Free Funny Boy Versus the Bubble-Brained Barbers from the Big Bang by Dan Gutman Page B

little umbrellas on top of them. Safe for Weedwackers and miniature golf. Safe for fortune cookies and Reddi-Wip.

    All of these wonderful things would be gone if I let alien nitwits like the Backstreet Boys destroy our way of life. That’s why I do it.
    Shortly after the Backstreet Boys broke up, I had another, never-before-revealed encounter with an alien force that was even more evil and more sinister than the airsick alien from Andromeda.
    Wanna hear about it? Read on, if you dare.

CHAPTER 2

    THE NIGHT EARTH WAS ATTACKED BY A GIANT PIECE OF FRUIT, OR SO I THOUGHT
    It was a steaming hot Monday at the end of August. My week began like any other. I was patrolling the streets of San Antonio searching for evildoers so I could rid the world of them. Suddenly, I spotted a large yellow truck driving slowly down the street.
    There was a driver behind the wheel of the truck, and two other grubby-looking guys hanging off the back. I snuck behind a bush and watched them. I was fascinated.
    The truck stopped in front of a house and the two grubby-looking guys jumped off the back. They grabbed these big cans in front of the house and threw the contents of the cans into a large opening in the back of the truck.
    I mean, they just took the stuff without even asking anyone if they could! After they finished taking all the stuff from that house, the truck rolled forward, and they took all the stuff in front of the next house.
    I was outraged! These guys were just stealing people’s personal property, in broad daylight! They didn’t seem to care if they would be caught or anything.
    I wasn’t about to stand for that. This was a job for Funny Boy.
    “Halt, evildoers!” I shouted, leaping from my hiding place and placing my fist on the hood of the truck.
    “What’s the problem, sonny boy?” the driver asked.
    “Not sonny boy,” I replied. “The name is Funny Boy, defender of all that is good and opponent of evil and badness.”
    “Whatever,” the driver mumbled. “Can you get out of the way? We’ve got work to do.”
    “So do I,” I announced. “You’re all under arrest.”
    “Oh yeah?” the driver asked. “On what charge?”

    “Robbery,” I replied. “You can’t just drive down the street and take a person’s personal property without asking their permission. That’s against the law.”
    “Kid, it’s just garbage!”
    “That’s your opinion,” I shot back.
    “You don’t understand. We’re the garbagemen.”
    “Look, I’ll give you creeps two choices,” I said. “You can either go to jail on your own, or I will tell you jokes until you cease your illegal activity.”
    “Tell us a joke, kid,” one of the grubby guys said, coming around to the front of the truck.
    “Okay. Why shouldn’t you play cards in the jungle?”
    “Why?”
    “Because there are too many cheetahs.”
    The three men looked at each other. Then they looked at me.
    “So you want more, eh?” I said. “Now I will tell you a joke so funny that you will wet your pants. Ready? What did the digital watch say to its mother?”
    “What?”
    “Look, Ma. No hands!”
    The three men looked at each other. Then they looked at me.
    “We’d rather go to jail than listen to any more jokes,” the driver said.
    “I knew you’d see it my way,” I said, satisfied. “Go quietly and you won’t be punished so severely for your crimes.”
    Because they had agreed to turn themselves in, I allowed them to drive to jail on their own. But before they left, I gave them a stern warning.
    “If I ever catch you criminals driving around taking people’s things again, you’re going to be in big trouble,” I said, pointing my finger at them. “Next time, no more Mr. Nice Guy.”
    “We’ll be good,” they said as they drove away. I heard their laughter echoing down the street, so I knew the power of my jokes had defeated them.
    I was feeling pretty good after that incident with three criminals in the yellow truck. I had done a good thing. I