Beast from Beneath the Cafeteria! by Tony Abbott Page B

stuff like that.”
    â€œOh, cauliflower steak.” Mike made a face. “Interesting. Does your dad work there, too?”
    Liz spotted Holly Vickers’ dark wavy hair and headed for it. “My dad’s a paleontologist who digs up bones for museums. He works at the old dinosaur graveyard outside of town.”
    â€œCool!” said Mike, as they reached the table.
    Liz sat between Holly and her brother Sean and across the table from Jeff Ryan.
    â€œHey, guys,” said Mike. He set his tray down on the table next to Jeff and lifted his hand to Sean. “How’s it going?”
    Sean grinned and slapped Mike’s hand. “Excellent, since I saw you five minutes ago.”
    Jeff looked over at Mike’s tray. “Whoa! You actually ordered the hambooger!”
    â€œAnd he’s not eating it,” said Liz sternly. She pulled two shiny green apples out of her backpack and gave one to Mike.
    â€œThanks,” said Mike. “But apples don’t do it for me anymore. After being shrunk to the size of a nickel, I’m only interested in one thing—to eat and stay big.”
    â€œThat’s two things,” said Liz. “Which reminds me, I’m starting a list right now. I’m calling it—Stuff That Needs to Change.” She pulled a pad out of her backpack and started to write. “Number One. No More Weird Lunches.”
    â€œI totally agree,” said Sean, pulling a blue candy eyeball from his lunch bag and popping it in his mouth. His father, Todd Vickers, was a horror movie director. He had lots of movie props. Some of them were edible.
    â€œNumber Two,” said Liz. “No Horror Stuff.”
    â€œYou and Mr. Bell,” said Holly. “Mrs. Carbonese, too. They’re trying to ban scary books from school. That’s what the assembly is all about.”
    Sean turned to his sister. “But do they know Dad’s coming in to film some school scenes for his next horror movie?”
    â€œSean!” cried Holly. “It’s a surprise!”
    Liz curled her lip at her friends then looked at Mike. “Zoners? Yes, I think so.”
    Mike laughed. “You know, it’s all how you look at it. I don’t think this place is as weird as you guys think it is. I mean, show me weird!”
    Sean grinned. His teeth were blue.
    â€œOh, gross!” Then Liz put down her pen and stared out into the hall. “Uh … guys?”
    Everyone at the table turned to the door.
    It was Principal Bell.
    He was standing in the doorway. He was holding the American flag in his hands. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, like little rivers.
    â€œMike,” whispered Liz. “You wanted weird? Your wish has just been granted.”
    Mr. Bell staggered into the cafeteria, holding up the flag. “I … I … I … can’t …!”
    He pointed out the door and wept.
    There, in a little grassy circle in the center of the parking lot, stood the flagpole.
    Except that it wasn’t a flagpole anymore.
    It was a—flag pretzel! The long silver pole was twisted into a horrible knot.
    â€œWhoa!” muttered Jeff. “Who would do that?”
    â€œOh, my school!” sobbed Mr. Bell. Miss Lieberman came running from nowhere to comfort him. They stumbled back to the kitchen together.
    Liz snapped her fingers. “You know, guys, a lot of strange things have been going on here.”
    â€œThis is news ?” said Sean.
    â€œNo, listen. My mom heard from her lunch-lady friends that something’s getting into the food cellar under the kitchen.”
    â€œMaybe it’s mice?” said Mike. “We had mice in my old school.”
    â€œNo way,” said Liz. “I’m talking about big stuff. Huge school-size packs of hot dogs and—”
    â€œHog dogs, ” mumbled Jeff.
    â€œAnd bags of french fries,” Liz went on, “and hamburger meat, and big tubs of nacho cheese. But my mom