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Locker Hero

Rachel Renée Russell




  WARNING:

  This journal contains

  wacky humor,

  thrilling action,

  nail-biting suspense,

  cool raps,

  and a mind-blowing cliffhanger!

  THANKS

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  THE MISADVENTURES OF MAX CRUMBLY

  (IMPORTANT STUFF YOU NEED TO KNOW IN THE EVENT OF MY MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE)

  1. My Secret Life as a Superhero Zero

  2. If There’s a Dead Body inside My Locker, It’s Probably ME!

  3. How Darth Vader Became My Father

  4. Somebody Get Me a Diaper! Quick!

  5. Why I Stuck My Toes in My Sister’s Bowl of Popcorn

  6. Yes, Bat Kid Is My Little Brother!

  7. Sippin’ Prune Juice from a Red Plastic Cup

  8. Just Call Me Barf!

  9. How I Accidentally Busted My Pants, Bashed My Knee, and Bruised My Ego

  10. Grandma Chokes on Her Dentures and Dies! (Again.)

  11. Warning!! Beware of the Freaky Locker Vampire!

  12. Setup for a Lockdown?

  13. HELP!! I Think I’m Gonna Throw Up!

  14. The King of Clean Rocks?!

  15. Rantings of a Locker Lunatic

  16. Who Says a Zombie Can’t Rap?!

  17. Just Kickin’ It!

  18. I Enter the Deep, Dark Bowels of . . . Where Am I?!

  19. Lord of the Labyrinth

  20. Do They Really Serve Mighty Meat Monster Pizza in Prison?

  21. If I Make It Home Alive, My Dad Is Going to Kill Me!

  22. How “Cinderella” Lost a Glass Slipper Sneaker

  23. Attack of the Killer Toilet!

  24. Out of Luck, Covered in Muck, and Drenched in Stench

  25. Why There Was a Boy in the Girls’ Locker Room

  26. Worst. Ringtone. Ever!!

  27. A Few Fries Short of a Happy Meal?! Really?!

  28. How I Discovered the Sticky Note of Doom

  29. The Mortifying Misadventure of Max Crumbly!! (Sorry, Dudes! My Bad!)

  Acknowledgments

  About Rachel Renée Russell

  To the original Max Crumbly, my nephew Preston, a superhero with a magnetic smile, ready to save the day with his signature karate chop and his trusty sidekick, Chase the Dog

  1. MY SECRET LIFE AS A SUPERHERO ZERO

  If I had SUPERPOWERS, life in middle school wouldn’t be quite so CRUDDY.

  Hey, I’d NEVER miss the stupid bus again, because I’d just FLY to school! . . .

  AWESOME, right? That would pretty much make ME the COOLEST kid at my school!

  But I’ll let you in on a secret. Getting bombed by an angry bird is NOT cool. It’s just . . . NASTY!!

  TV, comic books, and movies make all this superhero stuff look SO easy. But it ISN’T! So don’t believe the HYPE.

  You CAN’T get superpowers by hanging out in a laboratory, mixing up colorful, glowing liquids that you simply DRINK. . . .

  ME, MIXING UP A YUMMY SUPERPOWER SMOOTHIE

  HOW do I know it doesn’t work? . . .

  “OOPS!”

  Let me put it this way. . . .

  Even if I DID have superpowers, the very first person I’d need to rescue is . . .

  MYSELF!

  WHY?

  Because a guy at school pulled a lousy PRANK on me.

  And, unfortunately, I might be DEAD by the time you read this!

  Yes, I said “DEAD.”

  Okay, I’ll admit that he didn’t MEAN to kill me.

  But still . . . !!

  So if you’re the type who gets FREAKED OUT over this kind of stuff (or comic book cliffhangers), you probably shouldn’t read my journal. . . .

  Um . . . excuse me, but are you STILL reading?!

  Okay, fine! Go right ahead.

  Just don’t say I didn’t warn you!

  2. IF THERE’S A DEAD BODY INSIDE MY LOCKER, IT’S PROBABLY ME!

  It all started as a normal, boring, CRUMMY day in my abnormally boring, CRUMMY life.

  My morning was a disaster because I overslept. Then it went straight downhill from there.

  I completely lost track of time at breakfast while reading a really old comic book that my father found in the attic a few days ago.

  He said his dad had given it to him as a birthday gift when he was a kid.

  He warned me to be super careful with it and not take it out of the house because it was a collectible and probably worth a few hundred dollars.

  My dad was pretty serious about it because he’d already scheduled an appointment to get it appraised at the local comic book store.

  However, since I was running late for school, I decided to sneak take the comic book with me and finish reading it during lunch.

  Like, what could happen to it at school?!

  Anyway, as I rushed to the bus stop, the zipper broke on my backpack and all my stuff fell out, including Dad’s comic book.

  I was like, Oh, CRUD!! My dad is going to STRANGLE ME if I damage his comic book!

  I grabbed the comic book and was desperately trying to pick up everything else when the bus pulled up, screeched to a halt, waited all of three seconds, and then zoomed off again.

  Without me!

  Hey, I ran after that thing like it was a $100 bill blowing in the wind!

  “STOP!! STOP!! STOOOOP!”

  I yelled.

  But it didn’t.

  Which meant I missed the bus, was forced to walk to school, and arrived twenty minutes late.

  Next I got chewed out by the office secretary. She gave me a tardy slip and then threatened an after-school detention because I had interrupted her while she was eating a jelly doughnut.

  And just when I thought things couldn’t possibly get ANY worse, they did.

  When I stopped by my locker to get my books, suddenly everything went DARK.

  That’s when I realized I was TRAPPED in my worst . . .

  NIGHTMARE!

  I knew attending a new middle school was going to be tough, but this is INSANE.

  My life STINKS!

  I know you’re probably thinking, Dude, just chill! Everybody has a BAD day at school.

  Stop whining and GET OVER IT!

  For real?

  Are you serious?

  Like, HOW am I supposed to get over THIS?! . . .

  Doug Thurston, better known as “Thug” Thurston, just STUFFED ME INSIDE MY LOCKER!! AGAIN! And it’s only the second week of school.

  Are we having FUN yet? I’ve been crammed inside here for what seems like forever!!

  And, unfortunately, I don’t have my cell phone to call for help! I was in such a big rush this morning, I left it sitting right on the table after breakfast.

  My legs are so numb, I could probably saw off my big toe with my metal ruler and not feel a thing. And did I mention that I just had an asthma attack? If I didn’t always have my inhaler with me at school, I’d probably already be dead by now!

  I'm definitely going to be dead by lunchtime due to suffocation from limited oxygen and the stench of the funky gym clothes in the locker next door.

  Which is ironic when you think about it, because I should have died DURING lunch the first time I ate the SEWER SLUDGE they try to pass off as food in the cafeteria!

  And if all of THIS isn’t enough TORTURE, I have to PEE! REALLY bad!

  I need to fig
ure out how I’m going to get out of this stupid locker.

  Luckily, I have my flashlight key chain with me. Otherwise it would be pitch-black in here.

  The ONLY reason I’m writing all of this in my journal is because I’m worried that one day Thug Thurston will stuff me in my locker and I’ll NEVER get out.

  So I came up with an ingenious plan.

  When the authorities arrive to investigate my mysterious disappearance, the FIRST thing they’re going to find inside my locker (after my DECOMPOSED BODY!) is this journal! . . .

  ME, AFTER I’M FOUND INSIDE MY LOCKER WITH MY JOURNAL!

  I’m calling it THE MISADVENTURES OF MAX CRUMBLY, and it’s basically a highly detailed record of all the CRAP I’ve had to deal with! my experiences here at this school.

  Since there’s a chance I WON’T make it out of my locker alive, I’ve provided enough evidence in these pages to send Thug Thurston away to PRISON!

  For LIFE!

  Or at least land his butt in after-school detention every day until he graduates or drops out of school, whichever comes first!

  Hey, I’m NOT trying to save the world or be a hero or anything like that, so don’t get it twisted.

  But if I can prevent what happened to ME from happening to YOU or another kid, then every second I spend suffering inside my locker will be worth it.

  3. HOW DARTH VADER BECAME MY FATHER

  I know some of you are probably thinking . . .

  Is this guy for real? Is he actually writing all of this from INSIDE his LOCKER?

  I totally understand and appreciate your skepticism.

  I’M having a REALLY hard time believing all of this is actually happening to me TOO! I guess I should start by introducing myself.

  My name is Maxwell Crumbly, and I’m an eighth grader at South Ridge Middle School.

  But most of the kids at my school just call me Barf, after I threw up my oatmeal in PE class Max.

  And YES! I did all these drawings myself.

  Here’s what I look like right now. . . .

  Actually, that is probably NOT the best drawing of me. So let me try this again.

  Okay, here’s one that’s a lot better. . . .

  SELF-PORTRAIT OF ME (MAX CRUMBLY)

  I have to admit, I’m still trying to adjust to this whole public school thing.

  When I was younger, I had severe asthma and panic attacks, and one of the triggers was stress.

  So for medical reasons my parents made the decision eight years ago to have me homeschooled by my GRANDMOTHER.

  But that’s not even the SCARIEST part. She’s a retired KINDERGARTEN teacher!!

  All the naptimes, sippy cups, and storybooks I endured in seventh grade were just . . . WRONG!

  If I have to eat another animal cracker, I swear I’m gonna puke an entire ZOO!

  Sorry, but there’s only so much humiliation a kid can take.

  So I secretly made plans to call Child Protective Services and report my grandma for CHILD ABUSE!

  It was probably the happiest day of my life when my parents FINALLY agreed to let me attend South Ridge Middle School.

  Since I’m a lot older now and on new medication, my doctor said I should be just fine.

  The only complication is that if my parents find out I’m having any problem WHATSOEVER at my new school that could be stressful for me, I’m gonna be stuck with Grandma, sippy cups, and naptimes until high school graduation! they’re going to snatch me out of this school so fast it’ll make my head spin.

  So I really need to fix this Thug Thurston problem. And FAST!!!

  But it’s kind of complicated because he’s as big as an ox and kind of smells like one too.

  I sit right behind him in math class, and some days it’s hard for me to breathe. So I just plug my nose and mutter to myself. . . .

  ME, TRYING NOT TO BREATHE THUG’S TOXIC BODY ODOR FUMES

  Do you remember me mentioning that I have an inhaler? It provides a strong dose of medicine to help me breathe.

  Well, that thing is totally USELESS against Thug!

  I scrounged around our garage until I found my dad’s gas mask (his hobby is painting cars). And now I wear it to class for “medical reasons” whenever Thug’s STINK is abnormally PUNGENT. . . .

  The weird thing is that Thug is really friendly to me on the days that I wear it.

  WHY?

  Because he actually thinks I’m DARTH VADER’S SON! I swear. I am NOT lying to you.

  He told me that when he grows up he wants to go to college to become a Dark Sith Lord just like my DAD. And he said he’s already saved up $3.94 toward buying a black cape, a mask, and a red lightsaber.

  Definitely some CRAZY stuff, right? But it makes sense when you consider the fact that Thug has flunked eighth grade, like, THREE times!

  I almost fell out of my chair when he invited Darth Vader’s son ME over to his house for pizza and video games.

  But I decided NOT to go, because at some point I was going to have to take off my mask to eat a few slices of pizza.

  And when Thug FINALLY figured out I really WASN’T Darth Vader’s son, he was going to beat my face into a pulp.

  If I could stand to wear that mask the entire school day, I bet Thug and I could become BEST BUDS! . . .

  THUG AND ME, HANGING OUT!

  Since we’re on the subject of best buds, I can count the number of friends I have on one hand with just one finger.

  A few weeks ago I met this guy at the store Pets-N-Stuff, but he goes to Westchester Country Day Middle School. I was there buying dog food with my grandma’s crazy Yorkie, Creampuff, when the little furball started yip-yapping viciously (I say that with sarcasm) and jumped out of my arms to “attack” this guy who was walking by.

  “Whoa! Easy there, killer!” he laughed. Then he dug into his pocket, pulled out a doggy treat, knelt down, and held it out. “I’m your friend! See?”

  Creampuff stopped barking, and after sniffing the stranger’s hand, he happily accepted the treat, wagged his tail, and then licked the guy’s face.

  “Dude! He’s nicer to you than he is to me, and I’ve been feeding him and picking up his poop for five years!” I exclaimed.

  “Yeah, Yorkies are a little high-strung. But they’re friendly once they warm up to you,” he explained.

  “So, you’re like the Dog Whisperer. How did you learn to be so good with dogs?” I asked.

  “Actually, I spend WAY too much time with them,” he laughed. “I volunteer at Fuzzy Friends Animal Rescue Center.”

  “I’m no dog trainer, but I can give Creampuff a bath without drowning him!” I joked. “Does Fuzzy Friends need a dog washer?”

  That’s how Brandon and I became good friends. He’s pretty cool, and we hang out at Fuzzy Friends once a week, taking care of the dogs there.

  And, unlike Thug, Brandon isn’t hanging around me just because he thinks my dad is Darth Vader.

  What can I say? Some people drink at the fountain of knowledge, while others (like Thug) just GARGLE and SPIT!

  4. SOMEBODY GET ME A DIAPER! QUICK!

  Dang! I have to PEE really, really bad!

  I know! You’re probably thinking, DUDE! THAT’S WAY TOO MUCH INFORMATION!

  But for some reason I always have to go to the bathroom whenever I get really nervous or freaked out about something.

  My bladder problem has completely WRECKED my life on more than one occasion.

  Like when I ALMOST came in first place in the 100-meter dash at our school’s Field Day last week.

  I’m not gonna lie. Getting recruited as a running back for the football team and hanging out with the popular kids would have completely changed my life.

  But, unfortunately, right at the end of the race I suddenly had to take a little . . . um, DETOUR. . . .

  Or the time back in fifth grade when I was about to win the state spelling bee championship. . . .

  My little problem even ruined my rep with the ladies as a PARTY ANIMAL!! . . .
/>   YEP! I got myself UNINVITED to the ONLY party I’d ever been invited to in my ENTIRE life.

  Pretty PATHETIC! Right?!

  But my mom is a nurse, and she tells me not to worry about my socially dysfunctional bladder.

  She says my reaction is perfectly normal and just part of the automatic fight-or-flight response that both humans and animals have to protect themselves.

  They sometimes dump their bladders (and even their bowels) so they can be lighter to either FIGHT their enemies or RUN away from them.

  Which got me thinking about MY situation. Maybe if I had just used my natural fight-or-flight instinct, I wouldn’t be STUCK inside my locker.

  I mean, what if things had gone down a lot differently? You know, like THIS. . . .

  I bet Thug would be so freaked out and scared of me that he’d NEVER bother me again!!

  And he’d even stop bullying other kids, because he’d be afraid that I’d find out about it and pee on him again! KICK HIS BUTT like last time!

  I’d be a HERO at South Ridge Middle School, and everyone would want to be my friend and hang out with me.

  How SWEET would THAT be?!!

  Yeah, right. WHO am I kidding?!

  I’d probably just be known at school as the WEIRD new kid who PEED on Thug Thurston!

  Now THAT would really help my STREET CRED.

  NOT!

  5. WHY I STUCK MY TOES IN MY SISTER’S BOWL OF POPCORN

  I have a huge collection of superhero comic books, and I actually write and draw my own.

  I’m NOT going to LIE to you. I take all of this stuff VERY seriously.

  I’ve done a ton of research on what it would take to become a real superhero, and it’s extremely complicated and pretty intense.

  Like, for example, the whole superpower thing.