Beware the Ninja Weenies by David Lubar Page A

interesting.” Kyle smiled at the man and walked out.
    I hurried to catch up with him on the sidewalk. “Doesn’t that guy make you angry? He’s a total fake.”
    â€œAnger is a waste of energy. Forget about him. It’s not worth worrying about.”
    I tried to forget about it, but the next day at school, all the ninja weenies kept sneaking up behind me and whispering, “See you tonight.”
    By lunchtime, I was ready to call home and tell my folks to forget about the party. “I give up,” I told Kyle.
    â€œHey, don’t be a quitter,” he said.
    I sat there and stared at my spaghetti. That’s what they had on Fridays. And it was actually pretty good for cafeteria food, as long as you remembered not to eat the sausage. But I wasn’t hungry.
    I stared to my left, at the table full of ninja weenies. Past them, an old lady was mopping the floor. That was weird. The custodians always wait until after lunch to start mopping. I didn’t recognize her, and I hadn’t seen her come in. I knew all the custodians. Maybe she’d just gotten hired. As I was watching her, she dropped the mop and pointed out the window.
    â€œFire!” she shouted.
    I raced over to the window with the rest of the kids. A pile of leaves along the curb was on fire. One of the regular custodians ran out with a fire extinguisher. He blasted the leaves with a jet of CO 2 , and the fire was history.
    As I walked back to my seat, I noticed the cleaning lady was moving away from Jimmy’s table. There was something familiar about her walk. It was smooth and silent. I watched as she slipped into the hall.
    â€œI’ll be right back,” I told Kyle.
    I stepped into the hallway just in time to see the lady slip something onto her hands and climb the wall—yeah, she went straight up the wall, clinging to it like a lizard. She pushed aside a ceiling tile and vanished like chimney smoke in a sudden breeze.
    â€œWhat in the world…”
    I thought back through everything that had happened in the cafeteria. A stranger. A disguise. A fire.
    â€œOh, no!” I raced back to the cafeteria and ran over to Jimmy’s table.
    He and his friends were about to wolf down their spaghetti.
    â€œHow dare you disturb us?” Isaac said. “Ninjas do not mix with common peasants during meals.”
    â€œWhat do you want?” Jimmy asked. “Speak quickly or suffer.”
    â€œNothing.” I took my seat and stared at my spaghetti. Next to me, Kyle was halfway finished with his. He didn’t seem worried. If my suspicion was correct, he knew a lot more than I did about what was going on. I picked up my fork and took a bite. It tasted fine. For the next two minutes, all I heard was normal cafeteria noises. Then a scream rose above the chatter.
    â€œAiiieee!”
    I spun to my left, expecting to find a ninja weenie leaping at me. But Jimmy wasn’t launching an attack. He was launching his lunch. And his breakfast.
    He wasn’t spewing alone. The rest of the ninja weenies were on their feet, too. Or their knees. Isaac was flat on the table, with his head hanging over the edge. Something had made them all sick—and only them. All around the cafeteria, I didn’t see anyone else throwing up. But I saw a lot of smiles. I think Jimmy had annoyed most of the kids in school.
    I put down my fork. The smell in the cafeteria had killed my appetite. I joined the rest of the kids and hustled outside, where the air was a lot fresher.
    â€œWow,” Kyle said. “I don’t think they’re going to any parties tonight. I wonder what happened to them?”
    â€œYou know what happened to them,” I said. “Your grandfather disguised himself as an old woman, created a distraction with a fire, and poisoned their food.”
    â€œAre you out of your mind?” Kyle jabbed a finger at my forehead. “That’s ridiculous.”
    â€œHe’s a