Stink and the Great Guinea Pig Express - Megan Mcdonald [7]
“Yeah, ’cause in this town they all like ham-sters,” Stink said.
Over bridges, across rivers, and through a dark tunnel they drove until Mrs. B. pulled up to a big fountain in the middle of Norfolk. They let Izzy, Scarlett O’Hairy, Harry, Captain Jack, Hopscotch, Piggy Wiggy, Wrinkles, Pumpkin, Mimi, and Mr. Nibbles wade in the fountain. Astro, too.
“Super-suds city!” screeched Webster. “Somebody must have put soap in the fountain.”
“Hey, let’s give the guinea pigs a bubble bath!” said Sophie.
Webster and Stink and Sophie washed and dried and fluffed the eleven guinea pigs.
“Get your squeaky-clean guinea pigs here,” they yelled, and ten more of the world’s cleanest guinea pigs left for new homes.
“Fifty-nine guinea pigs
rolling along . . .”
Another seventeen miles down the road, at last they hit Virginia Beach! A big green sign said:
“What’s Mt. Trashmore? Is it really a mountain?” asked Webster.
“Is it a park?” asked Sophie.
“Is it really made of trash?” Stink slid open the window and sniffed.
“Mt. Trashmore used to be a huge garbage dump,” said Mrs. B. “But then they covered it up with layers of soil, turning it into a kind of big hill or mountain. And now it’s a park.”
“Whoa,” said Stink. “A giant trash sandwich.”
At Mt. Trashmore, kids and families were fishing, feeding ducks, flying kites, skateboarding, and racing remote-controlled boats off the pier.
They found homes for fourteen guinea pigs at Mt. Trashmore alone.
Virginia Beach was pig heaven. Guinea pig heaven, that is. People went gaga for guinea pigs in this town.
At the Beatles Museum, they gave away John, Paul, George, and Ringo. At Ocean Breeze Water Park, they gave away zero. But they got to see a giant gorilla named Hugh Mongous. At the amusement park they gave away eight more. Plus, one lady adopted ten because she kept falling in love with one, and then another, and then another.
“Virginia Beach rocks,” Webster said.
“Operation Guinea Pig rocks!” said Stink.
“Time to get back to Squeals on Wheels,” said Mrs. Birdwistle. “Next stop, my friend Daisy’s house.”
But when they got to the camper, something was not right. The horn was honking. The radio was blasting. The windshield wipers were wiping.
Great balls of fur! Twenty-three guinea pigs were on the loose. Those hair balls were having one big piggy party. “Hurry, Mrs. B.! Guinea pigs are going bonkers in there!”
“Holey tamoley!” screeched Webster when he saw Mrs. B.’s coffee thermos knocked over. “The guinea pigs drank your coffee!”
Hyperdrive! The Guinea Pig Express had turned into the Guinea Pig Espresso. Guinea pigs were here, there, and everywhere, poking out of every box, bag, backpack, cupboard, and cubbyhole.
Guinea pigs ran races around the camper. Guinea pigs spun circles on the counters. Guinea pigs slipped and slid into the empty sink. Curly Sue went snooping in the closet!
All three kids chased after the squirming fur balls and put them back in their cages.
After they finished cleaning up the mess, Mrs. B. said, “Phew! Last stop — my friend Daisy’s house!”
On the way to the rescue, Astro poked his head out of Stink’s backpack. “This is it, boy,” said Stink, rubbing noses with his favorite fur ball. “I’m going to miss you, boy.”
Mrs. Birdwistle’s friend, Daisy, met them at the front door. “Aren’t they adorable?” she cooed.
“We have twenty-three left,” said Stink. “How many can you take?”
“Twenty-three’s fine.”
“Are you sure? Twenty-two is a much better number. Twenty-three just sounds like one too many.”
“I’m sure,” said Daisy. “Three more won’t be a problem at all.”
“I’m afraid these little guys are escape artists,” Mrs. B. told her.
“And they’re hyper on coffee!” said Webster.
“I have just the thing to wear them out,” Daisy said, and pointed to a play area on the floor.
“A mini amusement park!” said Sophie. There was a guinea pig Ferris wheel, a super slide, even a haunted house. Soon guinea pigs were tearing through tunnels, racing over rocks, hiding in hideouts.
“See? They’re getting tired out already,” said