Zeke meeks vs the crummy.., p.1
Zeke Meeks vs the Crummy Class Play, page 1
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1:
Zeke Meeks: Superrich Superstar
CHAPTER 2:
Mr. McNutty vs Everyone Except Owen Leach
CHAPTER 3:
Zeke the Magnificent, Grouchy, Pouting Crankypants
CHAPTER 4:
What’s the Worst Play of All?
CHAPTER 5:
Do I Like the Play? Nay.
CHAPTER 6:
Why the Long Face?
CHAPTER 7:
No More Horsing Around
CHAPTER 8:
Hugely Unhelpful Help
CHAPTER 9:
Royal Barf
CHAPTER 10:
Prince Horse
About the Author
About the Illustrator
Discussion Questions
Big Words According to Zeke
Become a Star!
Copyright
Back Cover
“Something stinks,” my mom said when I came home from school. She leaned down, put her nose near me, and took a big sniff. Then she plugged her nose and said, “Bleck. Ick. Zeke, I think you stink.”
I shrugged. Then I took off my backpack and walked toward the couch. I wanted to see what my older sister, Alexa, was watching on TV.
“Don’t bring your stink near me,” Alexa said.
Mom sniffed my backpack. Then she said, “Bleck. Ick. I was wrong about the stink. It’s coming from your backpack. Zeke, you need to clean it.”
“I’ll clean it after this show,” I said. My favorite movie star, Jett Jackson, was showing off his house on TV.
“Jett Jackson is sooo cuuute!” Alexa exclaimed.
“Who cares what he looks like? Look at his amazing house,” I said. It had a giant swimming pool, a private movie theater, a huge TV, tons of video games, and a ping-pong table. I said, “If I had all that stuff, I’d sit home and play with it all day long.”
“No, you wouldn’t. I’d make you go to school, do your homework, and get your chores done,” Mom said.
I sighed.
“And I’d make you wait your turn for the TV,” Alexa said.
I sighed again.
“After Alexa’s turn, it’s my turn for the TV. I want to watch the Princess Sing-Along show,” my little sister, Mia, said.
I sighed again.
Mia screeched a Princess Sing-Along song: “Keep all your things nice and clean, la la la, or they’ll smell like a latrine, la la la.”
I sighed again. I couldn’t stand Princess Sing-Along. I asked Mia,
“A latrine is a bathroom. Like that.” Mia pointed to the TV. Jett Jackson was showing off his huge bathroom. It had the biggest bathtub I had ever seen.
“Jett Jackson must be very rich. How did he get so much money?” I asked.
“By acting, silly,” Alexa said.
“By acting silly?” I asked.
Alexa shook her head. “By acting. And you’re silly for asking that.”
Jett Jackson pointed to a picture hanging on his bathroom wall. He said, “Here’s a photo of me in third grade, starring in the class play. I got my first movie role after that. I’ve been acting ever since.”
“I wish I could star in a class play. Then I could act in movies and get rich,” I said.
Thinking about being rich got me thinking about buying things. “I would buy huge houses in Hawaii, New York, and Hong Kong. I’d collect fast cars, giant TVs, and thousands of video games,” I said.
“First you need to clean out your backpack. I can’t stand the stink,” Mom said.
I frowned. “Cleaning my backpack stinks.”
“Ezekiel Heathcliff Meeks, clean it!” Mom said.
I knew that when Mom used my full name, she was mad. So I hurried to clean my backpack.
I unzipped the front pocket and pulled out a plastic bag full of stinky, brown mush.
Mom plugged her nose and said, “Bleck. Ick. What’s that nasty thing?”
I shrugged, though I knew that nasty thing was a bag of rotten carrot sticks. My mom often packed carrot sticks in my lunch bag. But they were healthy, so I never ate them. I also found a moldy egg and a cheese stick that had turned green. I threw them all in the trash.
Next, I pulled out an old note from my teacher to my mom. It said:
I’d forgotten to give the note to my mom.
Finally, I took out a flyer from my backpack. It said:
Wow! Hooray! Yahoo! I held up the flyer and danced around the room. This was my big chance! I’d star in my third-grade play, just like Jett Jackson did. Then I’d star in movies and make millions of dollars and buy giant houses filled with everything I ever wanted.
I just needed to get a leading role in Snow White.
I was so excited about the class play that I got to school early the next morning. I told my classmates, “I can’t wait to be in the play!”
“Me too! Snow White has an awesome kiss at the end!” Buffy Maynard exclaimed.
“Ooh! The handsome prince kisses Snow White!” Nicole Finkle exclaimed.
Yuck, I thought.
“There’s also an evil queen in the play,” Grace Chang said. “Ba-ha-ha-ha!” She laughed evilly. She always laughed evilly. She did everything evilly. That’s because she was evil.
“Yeah. Ba-ha-ha-ha,” Emma G. laughed. Her attempt at an evil laugh sounded sweet and silly.
“Yeah. Ba-ha-ha-ha,” Emma J. laughed. She sounded sweet and silly too.
The best part for a boy was the prince. That part would start my career as a rich and famous movie star. I said, “I will play the prince.”
“I want to be the prince,” Owen Leach said.
“I want to be the prince,” Chandler Fitzgerald said.
“I want to be a farting pig or a vomiting giraffe,” Rudy Morse said.
“Are there farting pigs or vomiting giraffes in Snow White?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I sure hope so,” Rudy said.
Just as I was picturing the piles of money and huge video game collection I’d soon have, the morning bell rang.
I wanted to talk to my best guy friend Hector Cruz and my best girl friend Charlie Marple before class started. Charlie was a girl and a friend, but not a girlfriend. Yuck.
“Snow White is a good play. I want to be the evil queen or a bossy dwarf,” Charlie said.
Hector shrugged. “I don’t care what part I get. I just want to have fun.”
“I will be the prince,” I said.
“Zeke, why do you think you’ll get the part of the prince?” Charlie asked.
“Because I’m a future movie star. And movie stars are as rich as princes. Also, because I’m a great actor. Watch this.” I acted very princely. I held my head high, pressed my lips together, and crossed my arms.
“That’s really good. You look exactly like a tree,” Hector said.
“A tree? I think he looks like someone who has to go to the bathroom really badly,” Charlie said.
I kept my arms crossed. “After I become a rich and famous actor, you’ll be sorry you insulted me.”
Once everyone was in the classroom our teacher, Mr. McNutty, said, “It’s time to practice handwriting. Who would like to write the letter L on the board?”
Laurie Schneider raised her hand. She walked up to the whiteboard and wrote an L in cursive. Then she kept writing. She wrote, “Laurie Schneider should get the part of Snow White.”
“I should be Snow White,” Grace Chang said.
“I should be the prince,” I said.
“Class. Pay attention to the handwriting lesson,” Mr. McNutty said.
Chandler Fitzgerald raised his hand.
“Is this a question about handwriting?” Mr. McNutty asked.
“Yes. Will you hand me the part of the prince?” Chandler asked.
Mr. McNutty sighed. “You’re all too excited about the play to focus on schoolwork. So I’ll tell everyone what roles you have in the play. Then we’ll get back to the handwriting lesson. Hector, you will be the Magic Mirror.”
Hector smiled.
“Grace, you’ll play the Evil Queen,” Mr. McNutty said.
Grace glared at him evilly. “I should be Snow White. I must be Snow White. I cannot pretend to be the Evil Queen.”
“Yeah. Grace can’t pretend to be evil,” Emma G. said.
“Yeah. Grace can’t pretend to be evil,” Emma J. said.
Grace didn’t need to pretend to be evil. She was evil.
“I won’t change my mind about your roles in the play,” Mr. McNutty said. “Buffy and Nicole, you’ll be dwarfs.”
“But I want to be Snow White. She gets to kiss the prince,” Buffy said.
“I want to be Snow White. I love kissing,” Nicole said.
Mr. McNutty shook his head. “You will both be dwarfs.”
“Can my dwarf name be Kisser?” Buffy asked.
“Can my dwarf name be Kiss-A-Lot?” Nicole asked.
Mr. McNutty shook his head again. Then he said, “Zeke, I’ve carefully chosen your role.”
This was it — the start of my huge acting career. This would surely
Mr. McNutty said, “Zeke, you will be a dwarf.”
A dwarf? That wasn’t the prince. That was a dwarf. Mr. McNutty must have made a mistake. I raised my hand and asked, “You meant to say I’m the prince, right?”
“Wrong. You’re a dwarf,” he said.
I frowned. I crossed my arms. I groaned.
“You’re being very dramatic about this,” Mr. McNutty said.
“Yes! I’m very dramatic! That’s why I should be the star of the play. That’s what dramatic people do! And the star of the play is the prince, not a dwarf. I should be the prince.” I slapped my hand on my desk to make a point. Ow. That hurt.
Mr. McNutty said, “Zeke, the way you’re acting today—”
I cut him off. “Yes, I’m acting today. I should act every day. I’m great at acting. That’s why I should be the prince.”
“If you keep acting like this, you’ll stay inside during recess all week.” Mr. McNutty’s voice was stern. “As I was saying, you’re acting very grouchy today. So you’ll play the part of Grouchy Dwarf.”
Grouchy Dwarf! No! I felt so mad that my face got hot, like it was on fire.
Charlie leaned over and murmured, “Don’t worry about what part you get, Zeke. It’s no big deal.”
“Charlie, you will be Snow White,” Mr. McNutty said.
“Me? Snow White? No! She wears dresses. Yuck! And she gets kissed. Gross! I can’t be Snow White. No, no, no, no, no!” she cried.
“I thought it wasn’t a big deal,” I told her.
She glared at me.
Laurie glared at Charlie and said, “I want to be Snow White.”
Grace also glared at Charlie and also said, “I want to be Snow White.”
“Yeah. Grace wants to be Snow White,” Emma G. said.
“Yeah. Grace wants to be Snow White,” Emma J. said.
“I told you I’m not going to change my mind,” Mr. McNutty said. “Owen, you will play the prince.”
Owen Leach smiled. “Of course I will. I’m perfect for the part. I’m an awesome actor. And I’m very princely.”
I groaned again.
“Most of you seem unhappy. A few minutes ago, you all were excited about the play,” Mr. McNutty said.
“That was before you gave me a bad part. Things have gotten a lot worse,” Grace said.
“Yeah. A lot worse,” Emma G. said.
“Yeah. A lot worse,” Emma J. said.
“Yeah, worse,” I said.
“Yeah,” Laurie said.
“Worse,” Charlie said.
Owen Leach kept smiling. “I think everything is going great.”
Everyone glared at him.
Once my family found out I hadn’t gotten a starring role in the play, I knew they’d feel bad for me. My mom would probably make me cookies. My sisters would probably let me have the TV all week.
I walked in my front door after school, threw down my backpack, plopped on the couch, and let out a loud sigh.
“Don’t leave your backpack by the door. Someone could trip over it,” Mom told me.
“Don’t hog the couch. I want to sit on it too,” my little sister, Mia, told me.
“Don’t sigh so loudly. It’s annoying,” my big sister, Alexa, told me.
“Doesn’t anyone see how upset I am? Don’t you feel bad for me?” I asked.
Waggles, our dog, jumped on my lap. He looked very silly. My sisters had dressed him in a pink and purple skirt.
He licked my face. That was his way of showing me that he felt bad for me. Or maybe he wanted to taste my cheek.
“Doesn’t anyone besides Waggles care that I’m upset?” I asked.
Alexa and Mia shrugged.
“I care. I’m making you a special snack,” Mom said from the kitchen.
“Are you baking yummy cookies?” I asked.
“No. I’m cutting up healthy celery sticks.”
I sighed again.
“Why are you upset?” Mia asked me. “Did you have a potty accident like my friend Jack did in preschool today?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t have a potty accident.”
“Did you miss your mommy when you were at school? My friend Luke cried for his mommy today.”
“That’s not why I’m upset,” I said.
“Did you lose your special teddy bear that you carry around everywhere?” Mia asked.
“No. I don’t even own a teddy bear.”
“Are you upset because you don’t even own a teddy bear?” Mia asked.
“No.”
“I’ll guess why you’re upset. This is fun,” Alexa said.
“I don’t think it’s fun.” I stomped my foot.
Alexa rolled her eyes. “You look as gloomy as a sad baby clown. Either something horrible happened or you’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m not being ridiculous,” I said.
“Okay, I’ll guess horrible things. Did you break an arm or a leg?” Alexa asked.
“No.”
“An arm and a leg?” she asked.
“No.”
“Did you break two arms and two legs? Or two arms and one leg? Or one arm and two legs?” she asked.
“No.”
“Did you break a hand or foot? Or two hands and two feet? Or one hand and two feet? Or —”
“No. I’ll just tell you why I’m upset. I didn’t get the part I wanted in the class play,” I said.
“That’s it? You’re being so grouchy over that tiny thing?” Alexa asked.
“It isn’t tiny,” I said. “It’s big, huge, enormous! Mr. McNutty made a huge mistake, and there is nothing I can do about it!”
“You are very dramatic. Maybe you are a better actor than I thought,” Alexa said. I was not sure if she was serious or not.
Mom walked into the room with a plate of lame celery sticks. “What role did you get that made you so grouchy?” she asked.
I frowned and told her,
“That’s perfect for you,” Alexa said.
“It is. You’re grouchy. And you’re short like a dwarf,” Mia said.
“I wanted to be the prince. That’s the biggest boy part in Snow White,” I said.
“There’s a famous theater saying: ‘There are no small parts, only small actors,’” Mom said.
Huh? That theater saying didn’t make any sense. There were lots of small parts. For instance, Grouchy Dwarf was a small part. It was a very small part. It was so small, it would take a microscope to see it. Grouchy Dwarf was a much smaller part than the part of the prince. My mom was also wrong about there being only small actors. Plenty of actors were tall.
“I love Snow White. It’s so romantic.” Alexa clutched her heart. “It has a princess and a queen and pretty dresses and a big kissing scene. My class performed Peter Pan in third grade. It was full of pirates and swordfights and shouting. It was awful.”
“That sounds a lot better than Snow White,” I said.
“I can cheer you up,” Mia told me.
“By buying me a new video game?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Something better than that.”
“By telling me how I can get the role of the prince?”
Mia shook her head again. “Something better.”
“Are you going to do my chores all week?” I asked.
She shook her head again. “Something better. I’ll sing you a Princess Sing-Along song.” Before I could stop her, Mia sang a song from her favorite TV show. It was my least favorite TV show.
She sang in a screechy voice: “Things could be a whole lot worse, la la la. A witch could give you a curse, la la la. Next time you feel the need to pout, la la la, be glad your nose isn’t a snout, la la la.”
“Singing that song was not better than buying me a new video game, showing me how to get the part of the prince, or doing my chores for a week,” I said.
“I was only trying to help. How about this instead?”
