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out of control!”
    â€œThey’re berserk! Totally berserk!”
    â€œThis school must be CLOSED— tonight !”

Chapter 20
THE UGLY DUCKLING
    â€œI—I—I—” My brain was still frozen.
    And then Mrs. Twinkler stepped forward. She was the only person who didn’t look horrified and shocked. She had a big smile on her face.
    She strode right up to the inspectors. “This is our annual school pageant!” she told them. “Didn’t Bernie do a fabulous job?”
    â€œP-pageant?” one inspector stammered. “This ugly mud fight? What kind of pageant is this ?”
    â€œIt’s the Battle of Rotten Town of 1650,” Mrs. Twinkler told him. She turned to HeadmasterUpchuck. “I knew Bernie was the right person to lead the pageant.”
    Upchuck put a big smile onto his little bald head. “Yes, yes!” he said. “I was the one who picked Bernie. Excellent job, Bernie.”
    He patted me on the shoulder. “Ha-ha. You inspectors weren’t fooled—were you? Did you really think my wonderful students were having a mud fight?”
    â€œIt…looked so real,” an inspector said. “Wonderful job. I guess.”
    My brain finally started chugging. “I did my best!” I told them. “But I can’t take all the credit. Mrs. Twinkler had the idea to stage it in Pooper’s Pond. A brilliant idea! I think she deserves a round of applause—don’t you?”
    The five inspectors clapped.
    â€œThe students all deserve applause,” Mrs. Twinkler said. “Have you ever seen a pageant that looked so real ?”
    â€œGuess we made a mistake,” an inspector said. “I’m very impressed. Best school pageant I ever saw. I think we’re all going to file an excellent report on this school.”
    Another inspector squinted at me. “But what is that wad of cash in Bernie’s hand?”
    I stared down at the money. “Oh, this?” I said. “Just a small gift from my cast and crew. They wanted to show me how much they appreciated all my hard work.”
    â€œBernie is so wonderful,” Mrs. Twinkler gushed. “Guess what he’s doing. He’s giving all that money to the Rotten School Theater Fund.” She grabbed the money from my hand.

    â€œThis will pay for our second-grade production of The Ugly Duckling .”
    The Ugly Duckling ?
    My money…my hard-earned money…
    Upchuck slapped me on the back. “Congratulations!” he cried. “Job well done!” He and the inspectors turned and walked away.
    I watched Mrs. Twinkler counting my money as she trotted off with it.
    I let out a long, sad sigh.
    â€œGuess the game is over,” Feenman said. I could see only his eyes. He had about three inches of mud all over his face. He looked much better with it.
    The other warriors climbed wearily out of the pond. Dudes were dripping mud, groaning and sighing. “I’m toast,” Sherman muttered. “Toast.”
    â€œI could sleep for a week,” Billy the Brain said, yawning.
    â€œEverything HURTS,” Beast declared wearily. He started licking mud off his arm.
    â€œWhat a battle. Thank goodness it’s over. We’re all totally wrecked.” Joe Sweety groaned.
    â€œWar is tough,” I said. “But remember, dudes—we’re all winners here! Thanks to us, our school is saved!”
    Groaning, aching, sighing, we started limping toward our dorms. But we all stopped when we heard the loud, shrill cry.
    Â 
    â€œWAAAAAA
    HOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
    Â 
    I saw Jennifer Ecch first. And then the rest of the girls. In capes and full armor! Waving shiny swords and battle-axes in front of them.
    â€œPrepare to surrender!” Jennifer screamed. “Prepare to surrender to the Dum Dum Daughters of the Doo-Wah-Diddy Dum Dum Diddy Princess!”
    â€œNo! Please! Please! Give us a break!”
    â€œWe surrender! We