Ms. Beard Is Weird! (2 page)

3
Act Normal

Mr. Klutz reminded us again to be on our best behavior. The morning bell rang, and we rushed up the steps and down the hall to our classroom. It was weird with those guys sticking cameras in our faces.

“How do I look?” Mr. Granite whispered to us as we walked down the hall. “I'm a little nervous. I've never been on TV before.”

“You look like a real TV star, Mr. Granite!” said Andrea.

What a brownnoser.

Finally, we got to class and took our seats. There were four cameras and cameramen and long sticks with microphones hanging all over the place. Ms. Beard sat on a chair in the back of the room. I guess she takes her chair with her everywhere, because it had her name on the back of it.

“Okay, just pretend I'm not here,” Ms. Beard told Mr. Granite. “Act like it's any other day at school. ACTION!”

“Uh . . . good morning, boys and girls,” said Mr. Granite. “Today we're going to . . . uh . . . talk about . . . uh . . . the Civil War. Turn to page . . . uh . . . twenty-three in your books. . . .”

We all turned to page twenty-three.

“The Civil War,” Mr. Granite continued, “um . . . uh . . . it wasn't very . . . um . . . civil at all. Ha-ha. Just a little joke there. Ummmm, I mean . . . can I do that over again, Ms. Beard? I messed up.”

Ms. Beard jumped up and put her arm around his shoulder.

“Granite, baby, you just gotta
relax
,” she said. “Just be yourself. Act normal. Okay? Let's try it again.”

Ms. Beard went back to her chair and yelled “ACTION!” again.

“The Civil War,” said Mr. Granite, “. . . uh . . . ummm, it reminds me of a story my grandmother told me. Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.”

Mr. Granite started telling a story about his grandmother. It went on forever. I thought I was gonna die. It's hard to sit still without fidgeting. But I kept my feet on the floor and my hands folded on my desk. I didn't want Mr. Granite to call on me, so I made sure not to look at him. That's the first rule of being a kid.

“Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah . . . ,” droned Mr. Granite.

Suddenly, Andrea raised her hand.

“Yes, Andrea?”

“Is it true that the Civil War started in 1861 when eleven Southern states decided to leave the United States and form their own country called the Confederate States of America?”

Ugh. I hate her.

“That's absolutely right!” said Mr. Granite, beaming at Andrea. “I can see you've been studying.”

“I always try my hardest,” Andrea said. Then she made a big smile right into the camera.

Why can't a truckload of cameras fall on her head?

“Beautiful! Cut!” said Ms. Beard. “Okay, guys. Let's move to the next class.”

The cameramen started picking up their equipment.

“When will we be on TV?” asked Andrea.

“Tonight, baby,” Ms. Beard replied.

“EEEEEEEEEEK! We're gonna be on TV
tonight
!”

Everybody was freaking out.

4
Reality Is Boring

My parents let me stay up late on Monday to watch
The Real Teachers of Ella Mentry School
. It was cool to see us all on TV, even if I had to look at Andrea's big face hogging the screen the whole time.

The first thing that happened on Tuesday morning was that Ms. Beard rushed into school with her megaphone and told us we had to take a meeting. I mean, have an assembly. I had to sit next to Little Miss Perfect again.

“I have some good news and some bad news,” Ms. Beard announced when everybody was seated. “The good news is that ten million people tuned in to see
The Real Teachers of Ella Mentry School
last night.”

“WOW,” we all said, which is “MOM” upside down.

“What's the bad news?” asked Mr. Klutz.

“The bad news is that nine million of them turned the show off after five minutes,” said Ms. Beard.

“What?” we all asked. “Why?”

“Because it was
boring
, that's why!” Ms. Beard told us. “Nobody wants to watch polite, well-behaved kids being taught by excellent teachers. They can see that at their
own
school.”

“I thought the show was supposed to be
real
,” said Mrs. Jafee. “Isn't that why they call it a
reality
show?”

“Let me tell you a little secret,” said Ms. Beard. “Reality is boring. People don't want to watch reality. They want to be
amazed
. We've got to show them something they've never seen before. We've got to blow their minds!”

“I thought you told us to act normal,” said Mr. Granite.

“Look,” said Ms. Beard. “Normal is boring. If you folks can't spice things up,
The Real Teachers of Ella Mentry School
is going to be canceled.”

“Canceled!?” Mr. Klutz looked all panicked. “Does that mean we won't get the money you promised?”

“That's right, Chickie Baby.”

“Stop calling me Chickie Baby!” said Mr. Klutz.

“If the show is canceled, there goes the music and art programs again,” moaned Ms. Hannah, our art teacher.

“There goes the water fountains,” moaned Mrs. Patty.

“There goes the toilet paper,” moaned Miss Lazar, our custodian.

“Hey, lighten up!” Ms. Beard said. “I know how we can make
The Real Teachers of Ella Mentry School
into a hit. I have a plan. Trust me. Show business is in my blood.”
³

“What's the plan?” Mr. Klutz asked. “We need to save the show.”

“People like winners and losers,” Ms. Beard said as she got out a large shopping bag. “So here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to divide a group of teachers into two teams. One team will wear hats with antlers on them. They will be called the Mooseketeers. The other team will wear these hot dog hats, and they will be the Hot Dog Heads.”

Ms. Beard pulled a bunch of hats out of her bag.

“I'm not wearing a silly hat,” announced Mr. Loring, our music teacher.

“Then you can't be on the show,” said Ms. Beard.

“Where's my silly hat?” asked Mr. Loring.

“Okay!” said Ms. Beard. “When I call your name, come up on the stage. The Mooseketeers are . . . Ms. Leakey, Ms. Hannah, Mr. Loring, Mr. Macky, Miss Holly, and Mrs. Yonkers. Come on down!”

We all cheered as the Mooseketeers ran up on the stage and high-fived each other.

“The Hot Dog Heads are . . . Mrs. Roopy, Miss Small, Mr. Docker, Mr. Granite, Ms. Coco, and Miss Laney. Come on down!”

The Hot Dog Heads fist-bumped each other as they ran up on the stage. They all put on their silly hats. The cameramen filmed everything.

“The Mooseketeers stink!” shouted Miss Laney.

“The Hot Dog Heads suck eggs!” shouted Miss Holly.

“I'm glad to see you teachers are getting into the spirit of the competition,” said Ms. Beard.

“It's not nice to call people names,” Andrea said to me. “They're not setting a good example for children.”

“Can you possibly be more boring?” I told Andrea.

Ms. Beard clapped her hands to get everyone's attention.

“Over the next few days,” she said, “the Mooseketeers and the Hot Dog Heads will compete in a series of events. A panel of judges will help decide who is the winner, and people at home will be able to vote too.”

That's when Little Miss Perfect got up to ask a question.

“Excuse me,” Andrea said, “but what does this have to do with education? Shouldn't we be learning things in school?”

“Booooooooo!”

“Sit down!”

Everybody was hooting at Andrea, even some of the teachers. Nah-nah-nah boo-boo on her. It was the greatest moment of my life.

“Don't worry,” Ms. Beard said. “You're going to be learning plenty. And here's the best part. One by one, the teachers will be eliminated until we're left with just one winner. That teacher will get the grand prize: a fabulous, all-expenses-paid vacation to anywhere in the world and a year's supply of pork sausages!”

“I
love
pork sausages!” said Ms. Leakey.

“That reminds me,” Ms. Beard said as she looked into one of the cameras. “Folks, do you like pork sausages? I sure do. And when I want a pork sausage, I reach for Porky's pork sausages. They're the best pork sausages in the world, made with the finest pork and no artificial ingredients. So when you want a pork sausage, reach for Porky's. Okay, let the games begin!”

5
Ella Mentry Idol

Mr. Klutz sent us to lunch so the teachers could get ready. When we got back to the all-purpose room, the stage was decorated with lots of lights and a big sign . . .

ELLA MENTRY IDOL!

Ms. Beard came out onstage, followed by the Mooseketeers and the Hot Dog Heads. We all yelled and screamed, but we quieted down when Mr. Klutz made a peace sign, which means “shut up.”

“Welcome to Ella Mentry Idol!” said Ms. Beard. “Today we're going to see how well these twelve teachers can sing! Sadly, one of them will be eliminated.”

“Awwwwwwwwww.”

“Each of the teachers will sing a song,” said Ms. Beard. “Then we'll open up the phone lines so viewers can vote for their favorite. The teacher who gets the fewest votes will be eliminated. Is everyone excited?”

“Yeah!” we all screamed.

“Now let's meet our judges!” said Ms. Beard.

She picked up a jar filled with slips of paper. She shook it up and then picked out three of them.

“Our judges will be . . . Ryan, Andrea, and A.J.! Come on down!”

“That's
me
!” Andrea shrieked, jumping up and down.

We went running up to the stage and sat at the table there.

“May I ask a question?” said Andrea. “What does a singing competition have to do with education?”

“I'm glad you asked that question, Andrea!” said Ms. Beard. “Each teacher is going to sing a song about the thing they teach. Let's start with your art teacher . . . Ms. Hannah!”

Everybody cheered when Ms. Hannah went over to the microphone with a guitar.

“In art,” she said, “sometimes we use tools to build sculptures. So I'd like to sing a song called ‘If I Had a Hammer.'”

Ugh! I knew that song. It's about a guy who wants a hammer. He sings that if he had a hammer, he would hammer a bunch of stuff all over the world. If that's not dumb, I don't know what is.

Ms. Hannah sang the hammer song; and when she was done, everybody clapped.

“Now let's see what our judges think,” said Ms. Beard. “Andrea, did you like Ms. Hannah's song?”

“I thought it was lovely,” said Andrea. “I give Mrs. Yonkers a ten.”

Andrea held up a Ping-Pong paddle with a
10
on it, and everybody cheered.

“A perfect score!” said Ms. Beard. “A.J., how do
you
rate Ms. Hannah?”

“I give her a three,” I said, holding up my paddle. “That song makes no sense at all. If she wants a hammer so badly, why doesn't she just go to a hardware store and buy one? Hammers don't cost that much.”

“The song isn't about hammers, dumbhead!” Andrea said, rolling her eyes. “It's about peace.”
⁴

“What do
you
think, Ryan?” asked Ms. Beard.

“I give Ms. Hannah a six,” said Ryan. “She said that if she had a hammer she would hammer in the morning. But I don't think she should hammer in the evening too. In the dark, she might hammer her thumb and hurt herself.”

“Good point, Ryan,” said Ms. Beard.

“Yeah, and hammering in the evening will disturb the neighbors,” I added. “People are trying to sleep at night. They don't want to hear a bunch of hammering.”

“Well said, A.J.!” said Ms. Beard. “That's nineteen points for Ms. Hannah.”

Everybody cheered.

After that, Miss Holly, our Spanish teacher, sang a song called “
La Bamba
.” Mr. Docker, our science teacher, sang a song called “She Blinded Me with Science.” Mrs. Roopy, our librarian, sang a song about the Dewey decimal system. Miss Laney, our speech teacher, sang a song about the rain in Spain falling mainly on the plain. It made no sense at all. Who cares where it rains? Mr. Loring, our music teacher, sang a song called “Brown Sugar.” That was weird. Why would anybody make a song about sugar?

After that came our computer teacher, Mrs. Yonkers.

“I'd like to sing a song about pork sausages,” she said. “I borrowed the tune of ‘Home on the Range.' It goes like this. . . .”

 

 

“Oh give me some pork

with a knife and a fork,

and potatoes that have been French fried.

It makes a great lunch,

and I'll eat a whole bunch

with a plateful of beans on the side.

Porky's pork sausages.

I'd rather eat them than play.

And when I am done,

I'll take one on a bun

To bring home and eat the next day.”

 

“What do you think, judges?” asked Ms. Beard.

“That was
wonderful
!” said Andrea, who thinks that everything grown-ups do is wonderful. “I give it a ten.”

“That was
terrible
!” I said. “Deaf people all over the world are grateful right now that they didn't have to hear that.”

“What did that have to do with computers?” asked Ryan.

After the twelve teachers had sung a song, the phone lines were opened up, and people all over America had the chance to vote for their favorite. We had to wait a long time while the votes were being counted. Finally, Ms. Beard came out to announce the results.

“The people have spoken,” she said. “Eleven of our teachers will move on to the next round. One of you must leave. But before I say who that teacher is, tell me, A.J., what do you think of pork sausages?”

“I give 'em a ten!” I said, holding up my paddle. “I love 'em!”

“You heard it here, folks!” said Ms. Beard. “The judges agree that pork sausages are
great
! Now it's time to reveal which of our teachers got the least votes and will have to leave. That teacher is . . . Mrs. Roopy.”

“Awwwwwwwwwww.”

Mrs. Roopy walked off the stage, her head hanging.

One teacher eliminated, ten to go.