Really Stupid Stories for Really Smart Kids Read online

  Copyright © 2020 by Alan Katz

  Interior and cover illustrations copyright © 2020 by Gary Boller

  Cover copyright © 2020 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

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  Running Press Kids

  Hachette Book Group

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  @RP_Kids

  First Edition: October 2020

  Published by Running Press Kids, an imprint of Perseus Books, LLC, a subsidiary of Hachette Book Group, Inc. The Running Press Kids name and logo is a trademark of the Hachette Book Group.

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  Library of Congress Control Number: 2019954907

  ISBNs: 978-0-7624-9623-5 (hardcover), 978-0-7624-9622-8 (ebook)

  E3-20200826-JV-NF-ORI

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  The Stupid Message at the Beginning of the Book

  Andrew Answers

  Left to His Own Devices

  Becky Schmecky

  You Can’t be Cereal!

  This Land is His Land

  It Makes Scents

  Book It!

  Drop the Whole Thing

  See Here!

  The Bid, Bid Mistake

  Buy-Buy for Now

  Eating His Words

  The Game of Life

  A Portion of Caution

  What Do You Snow About That!

  It All “Ads” Up

  The Cantdecides

  Reggie Can’t Come Along

  Mr. Og

  A Sorry State of Affairs

  The Stupid Message at the End of the Book

  THE STUPID MESSAGE AT THE BEGINNING OF THE BOOK

  It’s a good thing you’re reading this book.

  Because if you don’t read this book all the way through to the end, your head might fall off.

  Which is exactly what happened to Vincent Newman.

  Vincent said, “No way. I’m not gonna read that book,” and then…

  PLOP!

  His head fell off and rolled into a field, where some dogs played soccer with it.

  The final score was Bulldogs 7, Mutts 5.

  Close game.

  Too bad Vincent didn’t really get to see it.

  When Jessica Phillips ignored this book, her ears turned into antlers.

  It was all pretty shocking, especially when her family started hanging their coats on Jessica.

  Miss Joy, one of the best librarians anywhere, recommended this book to Danny Valenti.

  But he turned it down.

  Within minutes, his rear end grew to the size of an elephant’s—which made it very hard for him to lie on his bed without his trunk hitting the ceiling.

  (Oh yes, he had also grown a trunk.)

  Rachel Brown thought about reading this book, but she decided she didn’t like its cover. Now that Rachel’s arms are 17 feet long, she realizes that it’s true—you can’t tell a book by its cover.

  Jordan Williams, who refuses to read any book, anywhere, anytime, passed up the chance to read this one and he now has a blooming shrub where he used to have hair.

  It’s pretty, and the birds like it, but it’s kinda itchy.

  A whole second grade class in Connecticut told their teacher they didn’t want to read this book, and now each kid is fruit-shaped.

  Billy, the banana in the second row, wishes he could be a pineapple.

  No one knows exactly why turning down this book has such a powerful effect on people.

  But it never fails.

  Avoid this book and you’ll face certain trouble.

  Ask Vincent…

  Or Jessica…

  Or Danny…

  They all wish they’d read this book.

  The good, good, good, good news is nothing that happened to any of them will happen to you.

  Your head won’t fall off. And you won’t grow strange or unusual body parts.

  You are 1,000,000,000% safe.

  Because you have been smart enough to read this book.

  Just be sure you read the whole book.

  To the very last word… on the very last page.

  Because nothing bad can happen to you if you read all the way through the whole book

  Seriously.

  THE END… FOR NOW

  ANDREW ANSWERS

  The whole thing started in Mrs. Wilson’s class…

  “Andrew, can you tell the class a word that starts with N?”

  “No.”

  “Andrew, I want you to tell us a word that starts with N.”

  “Never.”

  “Andrew, I am asking you for a word that starts with N.”

  “Nope.”

  “Andrew, think. There are so many words that start with N, and you only have to name one.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “Andrew, you know the letter N. So, if I ask you, ‘Can you name a word that starts with N?’ what is your answer?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Andrew, if you don’t name a word that starts with N, I am going to have to send you to the principal’s office. What do you say about that?”

  “Nasty.”

  So, Mrs. Wilson sent Andrew to see Miss Fox, the principal. Miss Fox was kind, and she tried to give Andrew another chance.

  “Andrew, maybe you don’t like the letter N. So, let’s try a different one,” she smiled. “Can you tell me a word that begins with W?”

  “Why?”

  “Andrew, take a deep breath and tell me a word that begins with W.”

  “When?”

  “Right now, young man. A word that begins with W.”

  “What?”

  Now, as you already know, Miss Fox was kind. And she hardly ever got mad—except for that one time when Shelby Jordan painted all the erasers black instead of cleaning them. But anyway, Miss Fox tried again.

  “Okay, Andrew, let’s try another letter. Can you tell me a word that starts with L?”

  “Later.”

  “Andrew, try again.”

  “Lunchtime.”

  “Andrew, tell me a word or I will call your parents. I want an L-word NOW!”

  “Loser.”

  That did it. Before long, Andrew’s mom and dad were in the principal’s office.

  It didn’t go much better there.

  “I…”

  “Impossible.”

  “T…”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “R…”

  “Ridiculous.”

  “C…”

  “Can’t.”

  “S…”

  “Sorry.”

  “Y…”

  “Yuck.”

  Before long, Andrew was sent to the school board.

  “May we have a word that starts with A?”

  “Absurd.”

  Andrew was sent to the mayor.

  “Andrew, I’d like y
ou to tell me a word that starts with G.”

  “Goodbye.”

  Andrew was sent to the governor.

  “Andrew, let’s end this foolishness. You can go right back to your classroom as soon as you tell me a word that starts with F.”

  “Foolishness.”

  So, Andrew was sent to the president.

  “Andrew, I’m a busy person. But your teacher, principal, parents, school board, mayor, and governor all thought it would be a good idea for us to chat. I know they’ve all asked you to say words that start with particular letters of the alphabet. But here in the Oval Office, you can speak for yourself. Tell me what’s on your mind, young man.”

  And Andrew said,

  “Anybody

  Big

  Can

  Do

  Everything

  For

  Generally

  Honest,

  Intelligent,

  Joking

  Kids.

  Listen,

  Mighty

  Nice

  Office!

  President

  Questioning

  Respectful

  Student

  Takes

  Unbelievable

  Vision.

  Wahoo!

  X-ray

  Your

  Zipper!”

  The president thought for a moment, took a deep breath…

  and awarded Andrew a full scholarship to the college of his choice. Starting that very day!

  When asked why, the president said, “What else could I do? The kid’s a genius!”

  THE END

  LEFT TO HIS OWN DEVICES

  “Daddy,” eight-year-old Ellen said. “Would you please drive me to Tracy’s house?”

  “One minute,” her father said, barely looking up from his handheld device. “I just have to send this text.”

  Ellen sat down to read a book. She didn’t mean to read the whole book while sitting there, but she had the time—because her dad didn’t send one text, he sent, and received, dozens.

  Ellen put the book down. She again asked: “Daddy, would you please drive me to Tracy’s house?”

  “One minute,” her father said, barely looking up from his tablet. “I just have to download these files.”

  Ellen sat down to read another book. She didn’t mean to read the whole book while sitting there, but she had the time—because her dad didn’t download one file, he downloaded, and sent, dozens.

  Ellen put the book down. She again asked: “Daddy, would you please drive me to Tracy’s house?”

  “One minute,” her father said, barely looking up from his laptop. “I just have to send this email.”

  Ellen sat down to read another book. She didn’t mean to read the whole book while sitting there, but she had the time—because her dad didn’t send one email, he sent dozens.

  Ellen put the book down. She again asked: “Daddy, would you please drive me to Tracy’s house?”

  “One minute,” her father said, barely looking up from his phone. “I just have to make a quick call.”

  Ellen sat down to read another book. She didn’t mean to read the whole book while sitting there, but she had the time—because her dad didn’t make one call, he made, and received, dozens.

  And they weren’t quick.

  Ellen put the book down. She again asked: “Daddy, would you please drive me to Tracy’s house?”

  “One minute,” her father said, barely looking up from his desktop. “I just have to order an item online.”

  Ellen sat down to read another book. She didn’t mean to read the whole book while sitting there, but she had the time—because her dad didn’t order one item, he ordered dozens.

  While her dad was online, Ellen went outside (she had run out of books).

  Sometime after, Ellen walked back into the house. Her dad smiled and said, “Okay, I’m finally all done. I’m ready to drive you to Tracy’s house.”

  “Never mind,” Ellen said. “I’m now twenty-three and I can drive myself.”

  THE END

  BECKY SCHMECKY

  Becky was a lovely little girl.

  But lately, her parents had noticed her acting, well, weird.

  See, she had started rhyming. A lot. For no reason.

  And her rhymes were kind of odd.

  Like when she told her dad that she loved it when he played the “flute schmute.”

  And when she asked her mother for a new “hat schmat.”

  “Perhaps we should take her to the doctor,” her dad said to her mom.

  “Doctor, schmoctor!” replied Becky.

  “Becky, dear… would you like to go to the mall?” her mom asked.

  “Mall, schmall!” replied Becky.

  “Let’s go to the bank,” dad said.

  “Bank, schmank!” replied Becky.

  “Let’s go to the store,” mom said.

  “Store, schmore!” replied Becky.

  “How about a trip to the library,” dad offered.

  “Library, schmibrary!” replied Becky.

  “Let’s go to the movies,” mom said.

  “Movies, schmovies!” replied Becky.

  “Let’s go to the park,” dad said.

  “Park, schmark!” replied Becky.

  Dad didn’t know what to do.

  Mom didn’t know what to do either.

  “Do you want to go to the restaurant schmesterant?” she asked.

  “Okay,” replied Becky.

  So, they did.

  And Becky had a double helping of her favorite meal.

  Chicken schmicken!

  THE END (SCHMEND)

  YOU CAN’T BE CEREAL!

  Five-year-old Rex got up by himself. He made his bed by himself. He brushed his teeth by himself. He got dressed by himself. He poured a bowl of Munchy Flakes and milk by himself. He ate it with a spoon by himself. He wiped up all of the Munchiness he’d spilled by himself. He put away the box of Munchy Flakes and the carton of milk by himself. He washed his bowl and spoon by himself. And then, proud of his accomplishments, he ran to his mom’s room. Today was the big day!

  “Mom, it’s here! It’s here! It’s finally Take Your Child to Work Day!”

  Mom looked at him and said, “Rex, uh, it’s only two o’clock in the morning. I don’t have to leave until eight.”

  Rex ran back to his room, got undressed, unruffled the blanket, hopped back into bed, and promptly fell asleep.

  When Rex next opened his eyes, the sun was shining into his room. “Good morning, morning!” he exclaimed, unaware that his greeting made absolutely no sense. And then, Rex made his bed by himself. He brushed his teeth by himself. He got dressed by himself. He poured a bowl of Munchy Flakes and milk by himself. He ate it with a spoon by himself. He wiped up all the Munchiness he’d spilled by himself. He put away the box of Munchy Flakes and the carton of milk by himself. He washed his bowl and spoon by himself. And then, proud of his accomplishments, he ran to his mom’s room. Today was the big day!

  “Mom, it’s here! It’s here! It’s finally Take Your Child to Work Day!”

  Mom looked at him and said, “Rex, uh, it’s only five o’clock in the morning. I don’t have to leave until eight.”

  Rex ran back to his room, got undressed, unruffled the blanket, hopped back into bed, and promptly fell asleep.

  When Rex next opened his eyes, he looked at his clock. He happily saw it was 7:00 in the morning. “It’s finally time!” he exclaimed. And then…

  Rex made his bed by himself. He brushed his teeth by himself. He got dressed by himself. He poured a bowl of Munchy Flakes and milk by himself. He ate it with a spoon by himself. He wiped up all the Munchiness he’d spilled by himself. He put away the box of Munchy Flakes and the carton of milk by himself. He washed his bowl and spoon by himself. And then, proud of his accomplishments, he ran to his mom’s room. Today was the big day!

  “Mom, it’s here! It’s here! It’s finally Take Your Child to Work Day!”
>
  Mom looked at him and said, “Okay, Rex, now it’s time. I’ll get ready and you go have breakfast.”

  “But mom…”

  “No buts, young man! A bowl of Munchy Flakes and milk! March!”

  Rex walked to the kitchen and poured himself a bowl of Munchy Flakes. He poured milk on it and slowly ate it all. He wiped up all the Munchiness he’d spilled by himself. He put away the box of Munchy Flakes and the carton of milk by himself. He washed his bowl and spoon by himself. And then, his dad came into the kitchen and said…

  “Good morning, champ. Today’s the big day, huh? Goin’ to work with mom! Fantastic!”

  “Yeah, Dad, can’t wait!” Rex said, even though he wasn’t exactly sure where his mom worked or what she did.

  “Sorry you can’t ever come with me to work, son,” Dad said. “But they have a strict ‘no kids allowed in the sewer’ law.”

  “I understand,” Rex said.

  “I know you’ll have a blast in mom’s office,” Dad offered. “But first, a hearty breakfast,” he added as he poured Rex a heaping bowl of cereal with milk.

  “But Dad…”

  “No buts, young man! A bowl of Munchy Flakes and milk! Perfect fuel for a busy workday!”

  “Daaad…”

  “Start eating!”

  So, Rex did. He ate the whole bowl. And he drank the extra-tall glass of milk dad thrust his way.

  Rex’s mom came downstairs and grabbed Rex’s hand to begin their big day.

  Now, knowing that Rex had eaten so many bowls of cereal, you might be thinking that the kid threw up all over his mom’s car on the way to work. Or you might be thinking he threw up all over his mom’s desk at work. Or you might be thinking he threw up all over her boss as they shook hands.

  But the truth is Rex didn’t do any of those things.

  What a relief, huh? Proud of Rex, huh? Not so fast.

  When Rex and his mom got to work, Rex said, “I have a biiiiig tummy ache!”

  His mom told him he was probably just excited, and it’d feel better once they settled in for the day’s activities.

  But Rex really didn’t feel well. And when his mom’s boss offered him a delightful bowl of Munchy Flakes, he yelled to her, “Munchy Flakes aren’t delightful! In fact, I hate them!”

  As it turned out, that wasn’t the best thing to yell at the president of the Munchy Flakes Corporation, and Rex and his mom got sent home.