Mrs Goldfield woke up in her class, at her desk, with all her students studying hard. For a moment, she thought she’d fallen asleep while teaching again. But then she noticed her globe was smushed flat, and she knew something was wrong.
“What happened here?” she asked, standing up, “Why is my globe so flat, and why am I so hungry?”
None of the kids in the class had any idea what to say. They were hungry, too, but they’d learned long ago not to complain about it during school. Mrs Goldfield might make them eat chalk or something.
“And where is Wesley? And Gabby? How long have they been in that bathroom anyway?”
Just then, the door to the class opened, and in walked Wesley and Gabby. They were drenched, head to toe, with horrible, stinking toilet water, like they’d just climbed out of a sewage treatment plant. Gabby had a fish skeleton in her hair. Every time Wesley took a step, brown goo squirted out of his shoes.
“Oh my goodness!” shrieked Mrs Goldfield, “what happened?”
Gabby shrugged, sat in her seat with a squelching noise. It was disgusting, but at least she wasn’t a zombie anymore.
“Wesley had a little accident,” she said.
Everyone looked at Wesley, mouths hanging open in shock.
“What?” he said, “I warned you, didn’t I?”
Mrs Goldfield fainted.
“Oh,” Wesley added, “and I think the wall to the bathroom may have fallen down, too. But that wasn’t my fault. Honest.”
