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Mr. K left the office feeling as dignified as ever.

Dr. P leaned back in his chair, with his hands behind his head. He felt very satisfied. It’s not every day that he gets to help someone as important as Mr. K.

Dr. P’s tongue was sticking out.

His left eyebrow was raised. His right eye was shut tight. And it looked like he was trying to swallow a tennis ball.

15

The Unbreakables

It’s bad enough when two friends fight. It’s even worse when three friends pick on a fourth.

Joe and John were best friends.

“Shut up!” said Joe.

“You shut up!” said John.

Rondi and Allison were best friends.

“May I borrow a pencil?” asked Allison.

“Here, stick it up your nose!” said Rondi.

Maybe it was because they were worried and anxious about the Cloud of Doom looming above them. Maybe it was because their fingernails and toenails were growing too fast. For whatever reason, the longer everyone spent beneath the Cloud, the crabbier they got.

Maurecia, Joy, Deedee, and Ron were more than just best friends forever. Their friendship was so strong, they called themselves the “Unbreakables.”

Every morning, they met before school by the flagpole. They had a special four-handed handshake. Each would hold out one hand, and they’d lock thumbs to pinkies. Then they’d raise and lower their hands three times and shout, “Unbreakable!”

The lunch bell kaboinked four times, and the Unbreakables headed down the stairs together.

“I wonder what we’re having today,” Deedee said.

“Didn’t you count the kaboinks?” asked Maurecia.

“Spaghetti and feetballs,” said Joy.

“Ooh, I like those,” said Deedee.

“You would,” said Ron. “T

hey smell as bad as your feet.”

He held his nose.

“My feet don’t stink,” said Deedee.

Joy held her nose too, and said, “Not to you, but to everyone else!”

Maurecia and Ron laughed.

They entered the cafeteria. Deedee took a tray and pushed it to Miss Mush. The lunch teacher handed her a plate of spaghetti topped with a foot-shaped meat patty.

Deedee set the plate on her tray, next to her history book. She was careful not to spill any feetsauce. Her half-finished homework was folded inside the book. It was due after lunch.

She sat down with the others at one of the long tables. She cut off a piece of a feetball, swished it around in the sauce, and ate it.


Tags: Louis Sachar Wayside School Fiction