Free Bruno for Real by Caroline Adderson Page A

It’s the very last one.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œBOO!” Dad said.
    Bruno looked at Dad. “Why did you say that?”
    â€œI was trying to scare your hiccups away.”
    â€œThat wasn’t scary at all,” Bruno said. “
Hic
.”
    â€œWhat would scare you?” Dad asked.
    â€œNothing. I’m not scared of anything.”
    â€œMonsters?” Dad asked.
    â€œNo. But the hiccups would probably get scared if something jumped out at them in the dark.”
    So Dad went to hide while Bruno,
hic
, counted to ten. Then Bruno tiptoed out of his room. He crept down the dark, dark hall and into the dark, dark living room so they could scare the hiccups away.
    Dad jumped out from behind a chair. “BOO!”
    Bruno wasn’t scared. Neither were his—
    â€œ
Hic!
“
    â€œI give up,” Dad said. “Let’s both go back to bed. The hiccups will get bored and go away.”
    Bruno went to bed.
Hic
.
Hic
.
Hic
. It seemed that his hiccups wanted to talk. “It’s time to go to sleep,” Bruno told his hiccups. “Pipe down.”
    â€œ
Hic
.”
    Now Bruno got mad. He was so mad he got out of bed and went to his parents’ room to complain. He opened the door and looked in. Mom was sleeping. Dad was snoring. Bruno tiptoed over to the bed. He leaned over Dad.
    â€œ
Hic
.”
    Dad screamed!
    Mom screamed!
    Bruno screamed!
    That
did the trick.

Bruno the Bad
    One morning Bruno woke up bad. “I’m bad,” he told Mom at breakfast.
    â€œYou mean you’re in a bad mood,” she said.
    â€œNo. I’m just bad. Listen.”
    He cackled. “Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
    He growled. “Grrrr.”
    And he wrinkled his nose. This made a little horn of skin grow between his eyebrows.
    â€œStop,” Mom said. “You’re scaring me. I can see your horn.”
    â€œYou should be scared,” Bruno said. “Because I’m bad! I’m Bruno the Bad!”

    Mom poured Bruno a glass of orange juice. “I don’t want orange juice,” Bruno the Bad said. “I want a glass of blood.”
    She really looked scared then. Bruno guessed she was glad when it was time for him to go to school.
    He wasn’t very bad at school because he didn’t want to get in trouble. But at recess, on his way out to play, he stopped at the principal’s office. Bruno’s principal, Mrs. Foss, always left her door open. She looked up from her desk. “Can I help you, Bruno?”
    Being sent to the principal’s office was the very worst thing that could happen at school. Bruno put one foot in the door. Then he ran off. Mrs. Foss laughed.
    At lunch, Bruno found a gingerbread man in his lunch box. He thought of another bad thing. He could eat his cookie
before
he ate his sandwich.
    â€œAh-ha-ha-ha-ha!” he cackled.
    â€œNo!” the gingerbread man cried. “Don’t eat me! Don’t! Please!”
    Bruno said, “Ginger, this is the end of you!”
    Isabel was eating her lunch across the table from Bruno. She looked scared. “I’m telling!” she said. And she put up her hand and called out to the teacher, “Ms. Allen! Bruno’s talking to his cookie!”

    Everyone laughed!
    That night, Bruno told Mom how he had been to the principal’s office. He didn’t say that Mrs. Foss had laughed or that his class had laughed.
    â€œDid you do something wrong?” Mom asked.
    â€œI was bad,” Bruno told her.
    â€œI think Mrs. Foss would have phoned me,” Mom said.
    â€œI was bad all day,” he said. “I did something really, really bad. I did the worst thing I’ve ever done.”
    â€œWhat did you do?” she asked. Bruno could tell by her voice that she was afraid of finding out.
    â€œI ate the arms and legs off my gingerbread man
before
I ate his head.”
    â€œYou
are
terrible,” Mom said. She leaned over to kiss him good