Stink and the Incredible Super-Galactic Jawbreaker - Megan Mcdonald [3]
Suddenly, Stink had an idea. Not a puny little idea. A great big super-galactic idea.
If Stink could write one letter, he could write two . . . three . . . four! It would be just like homework. Mrs. D. said practice makes perfect. If he wrote more letters, he could get more free stuff. And if he got more free stuff, he’d be like a bazillionaire!
Stink took out his best writing-a-real-letter paper. At the top it said, FROM THE DESK OF STINK MOODY.
Stink started to write. He wrote and wrote and wrote. He used his best-ever A+ penmanship. He wrote until his hand felt like it was falling off. Three whole letters! Mrs. D. would give him a triple Golden Pen rubber stamp for extra, extra, extra credit.
Once he started, Stink could not stop writing letters. He wrote a letter to Webster (the friend, not the dictionary). He wrote a letter to his other best friend, Elizabeth, who liked to be called Sophie of the Elves. He even wrote a letter to his teacher, telling her how great he was at writing letters.
At school, when Mrs. Dempster put a sample letter on the board, full of mistakes, Stink found every single goof, including Deer Sirs and Yours Untruly.
“Stink, you really put your thinking cap on today!” said Mrs. D. “Now, who can tell me what the best part of writing a letter is?” she asked.
“When you’re done?” asked Webster.
“Cool stamps?” asked Sophie of the Elves.
“When somebody writes back!” said Mrs. D.
“Especially when they write back with like about a million jawbreakers,” said Stink.
“Speaking of a million, it’s time for math,” said Mrs. D.
Waiting sure was bor-ing. UN-amazing. Stink came home from school and checked the mailbox first thing every day. He did not get one puny letter. Not even a postcard! Not from the candy company that couldn’t spell cat. Not from the toy company with the microbot that wouldn’t listen. Not from the city park with no monkeys. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero.
“Maybe my letters got lost,” said Stink.
“Maybe they know you’re just trying to get free stuff,” said Judy.
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Maybe I forgot to put stamps on them,” said Stink.
“Maybe your letters were abducted by alien microbots,” said Judy.
“Hardee-har-har. So funny I forgot to laugh.”
Then one day it happened, all at once.
“When it rains, it pours,” Mom said.
Stink did not see any rain, but he did see a package. From the toy company. He tore open the box. Microbots! Monsters and spotted dogs and striped cats. Blue lions and pink mice and even a koala!
Stink read the card. “It says since my microbot didn’t work, try these!”
“No fair!” said Judy. “You have all the luck.”
“Knock on wood,” said Stink. Just then there was a knock on the (wood!) door. Judy ran to open it.
“Package,” said the delivery guy. “For a Mr. Stink Moody.”
“Nobody lives here with that name,” said Judy.
“Do too!” said Stink. He dropped his bots and ran to the door.
“Sign here,” said the guy.
“He can’t even write cursive!” said Judy.
“Can too!” said Stink, printing his name with curlicues to look like cursive.
Stink shook the box. “I wonder what it is. . . .”
“I wonder,” said Judy. “Could it be about one million Kool Katz bars?”
“It says here they spelled Katz with a K on purpose because they thought it would look kool. But they’re sending me free stuff for my trouble.”
Judy tried to open the box. “Hey, let me!” said Stink. His jaw dropped open. Tweezlers and Whizzles, Double Yum Bubblegum, Milk Dudes and Paychecks, Grunts and 6th Avenues, Almost Joys and Peanut Butter Yucks.
“RARE!” said Judy. “I’ve never seen so many candy bars.”
“And don’t forget the jar of chocolate-chip peanut butter, the mint green chocolate crossword puzzle, and the Kool Katz baseball cap!”
“Triple rare!” said Judy.
“And it’s F-R-E-E, free.” said Stink. “Free as a bird! And all mine!”
Judy was mint green with envy. She wished she’d gotten two tons of special-delivery, sign-in-cursive free candy and stuff. “Stink, you can’t just keep all this stuff. It’s like stealing or something.”
“Or something,” said Stink.