Doctor Proctor's Fart Powder by Jo Nesbø, mike lowery

Flatu-Lisa.”
    â€œI know,” Lisa said. “He’s in jail.”
    Eva’s eyes got big. “In jail?”
    â€œYup. In the Dungeon of the Dead.”
    â€œMom!” Eva yelled over her shoulder. “Nilly’s in jail!”
    They heard someone rummage around, drop several things, fall, and maybe curse a little.
    â€œHaven’t you guys wondered why you haven’t seen him for twenty-four hours?” Lisa asked.
    Eva shrugged. “It’s not easy to spot something so tiny, so I don’t think it’s that strange if I don’t see him for a few days, you know? It’s kind of a nice break.”
    â€œWell anyway,” Lisa said, “prisoners in the Dungeon of the Dead are only allowed to receive visits from people in their immediate family, so I was wondering if you could give him this letter.” She held out an envelope.
    â€œWe’ll have to see,” Eva said, snatching the letter. “If we have time.”
    * * *
    NILLY AND DOCTOR Proctor were both lying on the floor of the cell, snoring and sleeping, when they were shaken awake by a member of the Royal Guard serving as a prison attendant in a black uniform and hat with a big, silly tassel on it.
    â€œHuh? We must have fallen asleep watching the rat,” Nilly said, rubbing his eyes.
    â€œVisitor for prisoner number 000002,” the guard said gruffly.
    â€œIs that me?” Nilly asked, still half-asleep. “Or is that him?”
    â€œIt’s you,” the guard said. “He’s prisoner number 000001.”
    Nilly looked around and said, “Where? Where?”
    â€œThat guy, right there,” the guard said, irritated, pointing at the professor, who was still snoring softly.
    â€œNo, not him!” Nilly shouted. “The rat! Did a rat run out the doorway when you came in?”
    â€œNot that I saw,” the guard said. “Look, do you want your visitor or not?”
    Nilly followed the guard through all the thick, but now open doors, down the corridor where the laser beams had been turned off, over the bridge, up the stairs, through the open door with the metal bars, and into the visiting room. And there was Eva, sitting in a chair chewing gum.
    â€œHi,” Nilly said, surprised, and smiled at his sister. “How nice that you wanted to come visit me.”
    â€œAs if,” Eva said. “I didn’t want to. Mom sent me. She didn’t feel like she was quite up to a prison visit herself. I brought you a letter. From that weird neighbor girl.”
    â€œLisa?” Nilly said, lighting up and taking the envelope. He could tell right away that it had been opened. “Well, what did she say?” he asked bitterly.
    â€œHow the heck should I know?” Eva asked innocently.
    Nilly read the letter silently and put it in his pocket.
    â€œWhat’s NASA?” Eva asked.
    â€œAnything else new?” Nilly asked.
    Eva snorted and stood up. “I’ve gotta go to school. Have a nice day in jail.”
    Once Nilly was safely back under lock and lock and lock and key with the professor, he passed him the letter. Doctor Proctor read aloud:
    Bad news. The Trane family is going to break into the professor’s cellar tonight, steal the fartonaut powder, patent it, and sell the invention to NASA. We have to do something. Lisa

    â€œThis is hopeless,” the professor blurted out. “They’re going to rob me! Steal my invention.”
    â€œLisa’s right,” Nilly said. “We have to do something. We have to get out of here.”
    â€œBut how?” the professor asked. “The rat is gone. We don’t know how it got out. ”
    â€œWell,” Nilly said, “give me the letter. We’ll flush it down the toilet so no one finds out that Lisa’s working with us. Otherwise they’ll put her in jail, too.”
    Nilly crumpled up the letter, tossed it into the toilet, and flushed. The toilet made a