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start the contest. How’s your back? Are you ready to start carrying me to class?”

    Wes and Beast pulled up a table. Belzer started to pile blueberry pies on top of it.
    â€œSherman, you know this isn’t fair,” I said. “You know I don’t stand a chance with Beast. Let me pick someone else for the contest.”
    Sherman shook his head. “No way,” he replied. “It’s Beast against Wes.”
    â€œI’m begging you,” I said, putting my hands together. “Let me eat pies instead of Beast.”
    Sherman frowned at me. “Forget it, slave. It’s Wes against Beast.” He waved the watch in my face. “If you’re a good slave, Bernie, maybe I’ll let you touch the watch for a few seconds.”
    Then he walked off, laughing.

    I chased after him. “Sherman, let’s call the contest off,” I said. “Come on, dude. Be fair.”
    He shook his head again. “Bernie, it was your idea, remember? Stop stalling. Let’s see some pie eating.”
    Okay. You heard me. I gave Sherman every chance, didn’t I?
    I was playing fair. I gave him a chance to back out. But now, the watch was mine, all MINE!
    I walked over to Beast. He sat behind the table, hunched over the largest blueberry pie. He looked a little weird—even for Beast! He was breathing hard, his eyes bulging. Drool was running down his chin.
    â€œTake it slow at first,” I whispered. “Don’t eattwenty pies in one gulp. Let Wes Updood think he has a chance.”
    I turned to the crowd. “Okay, listen everyone!” I shouted. “Let’s start the contest. One…two…three…

Chapter 16
T HE B IG B ARF- O FF
    Wes Updood raised the first pie to his mouth. Sherman and his Nyce House pals cheered him on. “Go, Wes! Go, Wes! You go, Wes! Eat pie! Eat pie! You’re the Nyce guy!”
    Wes opened his mouth wide and took a big bite.
    He made a loud noise as he swallowed. Then he pushed the pie to his face and chomped down hard on his second bite.
    What’s up with Beast ? I wondered.
    Beast stared at the pile of pies. He didn’t pick one up. He just stared.
    â€œBeast! Beast! Yo, Beast!” all of my Rotten House buddies cheered.
    But Beast ignored the cheers. He just sat there, gazing at the stack of pies.
    Wes made disgusting swallowing sounds as he finished his first pie.
    The Nyce House crowd was going wild.
    Wes grabbed the second pie on his pile. He jammed it into his face.
    He was two pies ahead of Beast! He was reaching for his third pie— and Beast just sat there !
    â€œTime out!” I shouted. “Time out!” My heart was doing flip-flops in my chest.
    I ran up to the table. I shook Beast by the shoulders. “Wake up! Wake up!” I cried. “The contest started! What are you doing? Start eating!”
    Beast grunted. “I…I have a problem, Bernie.”
    â€œA problem?” I said. “What kind of problem?”
    â€œI’m not hungry,” Beast said.
    â€œThat’s no problem,” I said. “Don’t stuff yourself. Just eat fifteen pies. That should be enough to win.”
    â€œYou don’t get me,” he said. “I’m not hungry. Sherman bet me I couldn’t eat fifty cheeseburgers atdinner. I won the bet. I ate fifty-four cheeseburgers. Now I’m feeling kinda stuffed.”

    â€œ Sherman bet you?” I cried. “Where is he? I’ll kill him! He’s a cheater! A total cheater!”
    Beast let out a huge burp that sent my glasses flying off my face. He had terrible cheeseburger breath.
    I felt a tap on my shoulder. Sherman stood beside me. “Is there a problem?” he asked.
    â€œUh…yes,” I said. “These pies are not the right size. They have an eight-inch diameter. The Pie-Eating Rule Book says that all pies must have a twelve -inchdiameter. We’ll have to hold the contest some other