Free The Teacher from Heck by R.L. Stine Page A

saluted him, and he saluted back.
    From down on the floor, I saw Sherman Oaks jump up from his seat in the front row. His parents pay extra so he can always sit in the front row. And they bought him a leopard-skin pillow to put on his chair so his butt doesn’t get tired. I told you Sherman is a spoiled, rich brat.
    Sherman walked up to Skruloose and pressed a few hundred-dollar bills into his hand. “Just a welcome present from me and my friends in Nyce House,” Sherman said.
    Sherman’s blue eyes twinkled. He handed Mr. Skruloose a shiny, silver pen. “That’s another gift for you. You can use it to write down my name. For when you make the Honor Roll list. It’s Sherman Oaks.”
    Mr. Skruloose crinkled up the hundred-dollar billsand shoved them into Sherman’s mouth. “Are you trying to bribe me, soldier?” he boomed.
    â€œMMMMPH-MMMMPH,” Sherman replied.
    â€œYou might want to write down my name,” Skruloose said. “My name is Mr. Skruloose. No one from my class ever makes the Honor Roll. I don’t believe in giving good grades.”
    Sherman swallowed the hundred-dollar bills with a loud gulp . “You—you can’t do this!” he sputtered. “I’m TOO RICH and too HANDSOME to be treated this way!”
    I think that made Skruloose angry. His eyes bulged out of his head, he gritted his teeth, and his face turned the color of a tomato. He waved his meaty fists in the air.
    Sherman took the hint. Shaking his head, he slunk back to his seat.
    â€œNINE…TEN!” I shouted. I climbed into my seat. Actually, I only did two push-ups—but no one was looking.
    Skruloose turned to the class. He loosened his school tie. Even his Adam’s apple had muscles!
    â€œListen up, soldiers. I’m just a farm boy,” he said.“I come from Heck, Indiana. I guess you could call me The Teacher from Heck.”

    A few kids snickered at that. I groaned.
    â€œBut you’d better not call me that,” Skruloose said. “I don’t allow jokes in my classroom. And here are a few other things that I don’t allow…”
    He pulled out a long list and started to read:
    â€œNo glancing from side to side. No burping. No yawning. No blinking.
    â€œNo pencil-tapping on desks. No eraser-chewing.
    â€œNo sneezing. Always breathe through both nostrils.
    â€œNever come almost late to class…”
    I shook my head. I suddenly knew how to spell Skruloose… N-U-T-S!
    No lie—he really was The Teacher from Heck!
    How did this HAPPEN to us?
    How did we lose Mrs. Heinie and get the toughest teacher in the world?
    Well…it started a few days ago. It was all because of the Water War.

Chapter 3
W HAT I S A L ETTUCE ?
    The Water War was on full blast. It was Rotten House against Nyce House in the wettest squirt-gun war in history. No one was safe. No one was dry !
    We all walked around school totally soaked. Water dripped down our faces. Our wet sneakers squeaked on the floors.
    Of course our teacher, Mrs. Heinie, didn’t have a clue.
    There are NO SQUIRT GUNS ALLOWED at the Rotten School.
    So how did we have a squirt-gun war?
    We had to be clever. And quick.
    Every time Mrs. Heinie turned her back in class, someone got hit full blast in the face.
    One day she was standing at the chalkboard making a list. “Now, who can tell me about the tomato?” she asked, squinting at us through her thick glasses. “Is the tomato a fruit or a vegetable?”
    â€œIt’s a planet!” Wes Updood called out. “It revolves around the third moon of Vesuvio!”
    Wes Updood is the coolest guy in school. But he’s on a planet of his own. Maybe he comes from the Tomato Planet. No one can understand a word he says.
    Mrs. Heinie shook her head. “Sorry, Wes, it’s not a planet,” she said. “Can anyone tell me about the tomato? Fruit or vegetable?”
    Billy the Brain raised his hand.