Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → Newport Adventures! Volume 1: MegaGreen

Letter From The Author(Yes, this is fake. Do I look like a fourth grader to you?),
Hi. My name's Rob Parker and I'm writing these stories, entitled Newport Adventures! It all started because my new fourth grade teacher, Mr. McClaren told me I had to write a story a month for the rest of fourth grade. He said that any extra story submissions would get me a free Jolly Rancher. So here is my first story. Some of my stories are true, some are false. I'm not saying which is which.

MegaGreen August 24,2008

Carter, Keith, Dean, and Rob were standing in front of the bus stop.
âAw, this is awful. How come we have to go back to school?â complained Rob
âYeah. Iâve heard that on peoplesâ first day in fourth grade, they get their heads shoved into the toilet,â added Keith.
Dean rolled his eyes. âCome on, guys. It canât possibly be that bad,â he reasoned.
ââAnd that was coming from the guy wearing the white tank top that says âStop The Fightâ. I mean, come on! And canât be that bad? Dude, we had to walk a fiftieth of a block farther to get to the bus stop, just because thereâs a new bus and a new bus route!â exclaimed Carter
âOkay, first of all Carter, my mom made me wear this, and second of all youâre the one who didnât even bother to brush his hair this morning,â Dean replied. Indeed, Carterâs brown hair alone was messy: Deanâs black hair was neatly combed, Robâs sandy hair was brushed, and Keithâs blond hair was slicked back. Carter opened his mouth to retort, but then, the yellow school bus pulled up.
Rob gulped, âI donât want to get my head shoved in a toilet,â he said, as they boarded.
âLook, even if the other kids do want to try, itâs not happening. The teachers are gonna totally bust them,â Dean calmed down Rob, as Rob and Carter took the seat to the right, Dean and Keith took the seat to the left.
âDangit! We got the seat next to the heater. Itâs way too hot for this,â grumbled Carter.
Rob sighed, âWe got the heater seat every day last year, Carter. Well, except for in winter, then we never get it. We might as well get used to it,â he said
âH-hey,guys,â said Leo, who was in their grade. He sat down next to Dean and Keith.
âDude, not cool. Youâre totally squishing me,â said Keith.
âYeah. Leo, what the heck are you doing in that huge blue jacket? Itâs scorching out here: way too hot for that kind of clothes,â inquired Rob, who was wearing sandals, a t-shirt, and shorts. The other boys, who were wearing similar clothes, nodded.
âOh, um, well, I k-kinda have a c-condition. I n-need to stay warm,â explained Leo. Carter, Rob, Keith, and Dean stared.
âI think that you can be plenty warm in late summer without wearing that, Leo,â said Rob. Leo shrugged.
âMy m-mom made me wear it,â said Leo.
âAnd the snow boots? And arenât those pants the type that have the electric heating system inside them?â Dean asked incredulously. Leo nodded
âI d-donât want to get r-really sick,â he said, attempting to wring his hands: a very common Leo habit. His efforts were impeded due to the fact that the jacket he was wearing was very thick, stiff, and hard to move in.
âJeez, man, your mom is paranoid,â said Carter. Just then, the bus driver gave a screech:
âSIT DOWN AND BE QUIET!â she bellowed. The boys covered their ears, and Leo fell right out of his seat.
âGET IN YOUR SEAT!â she screamed at him. Leo tried to get up and sit back down, but his huge clothes prevented him. He couldnât move his arms or legs very well at all, and therefore couldnât get back up.
âHelp me guys!â he cried desperately.
âSTAY IN YOUR SEATS! WEâRE ON THE MOVE!â roared the bus driver. Carter, Dean, Keith, and Rob looked at Leo, then at the bus driver. They looked at each other, then nodded.
âDude, youâre totally on your own,â said Keith. Leo started crying as he rolled down the aisle to the back, his large clothes making him round.
âWHOA! Dude, Leoâs going to the back!â exclaimed Rob, craning his neck to get a look.
âWow! Thatâs where all the fifth graders and sixth graders sit! Theyâre huge!â yelled Keith
âYeah! Wow, I never thought Leo had it in him! Heâs braver than we gave him credit for!â agreed Carter.
âItâs involuntary, guys! Come on, heâs completely helpless: he wouldnât go down there if he had any choice,â said an exasperated Dean.
âYouâre just jealous, Dean,â said an enraptured Keith. By now, the entire front of the bus: all the fourth graders were watching Leo roll around the bus.
âLook at him go! The sixth and fifth graders are kicking him all over the bus!â said a wide-eyed Stane. Indeed the sixth and fifth graders were basically just kicking him away from their seat when he rolled next to them. Apparently, their legs were so long they touched the ground when they sat on the seats, and didnât like it when they got squished.
âNote to self,â Rob hissed quietly to himself, writing down his words in a black and white notebook titled: âFourth Grade Notesâ. âNever sit next to a fifth or sixth grader, or you will get kicked awayâ¦literally.â
âAww, look. One of the sixth graders saved him,â said Carter.
âAww,â said all the fourth graders, as the tall kid picked up Leo by the collar of his jacket, and dropped him in the seat next to Keith and Dean.
âDarn. It was just starting to get interesting,â sighed Rob, as he turned to face the front of the bus.
âGuys. He was being kicked all over the place! How is it bad that heâs being saved?â said a flabbergasted Dean
âDo you really need to ask? Schoolâs so boring that anything slightly interesting is good. And Leo getting his butt kicked definitely qualifies as interesting,â Coin told Dean.
âYeah, man. This is the fourth grade: probably going to be even more boring than third grade, and thatâs saying something,â said Keith. Dean drew a breath, as if to say something to the contrary, but then decided not to. He just gaped at them.

As Dean, Keith, Carter, and Rob walked off the bus to school, Leo caught up with them.
âH-hey, guys,â said Leo, who had a black eye already blooming.
âHi, Leo,â said Rob
âWh-why didnât you help me?â Leo asked
âEasy. We didnât want to get in trouble for standing up,â responded Keith
âOkay. Well, I might never speak to you again, but thatâs about as good as you can hope forâ¦just donât let it happen again,â answered Leo.
âWhat? Aww, I wanted to do it tomorrow too,â Carter complained. Rob elbowed him in the ribs.
âOuch. What was that for?â Carter asked, rubbing his ribs.
âHe forgave us! Donât push your luck,â Rob retorted.
âButâ¦Robâ¦I didnât even get to video it! You know you want five thousand dollars from Americaâs Funniest Home Videos,â Carter countered, sounding shocked
âYou donât even have a video camera, Carter,â said Rob
âIn about five seconds I will,â said Carter, pointing to a man and woman just outside the fence of the school. The woman wore a thick coat that said âI heart This Townâ, and blue jeans. The man had sunglasses, a jacket that said âThis Is The Placeâ, black cargosâ¦and had a shiny black video camera in his right hand, which looked brand new.
âOff-season tourists,â Carter explained. âIâll give you guys a treat: you can watch a real master at work.â Rob snorted in derisive laughter, then, when Carterâs head whipped around, he adopted an expression appropriate to a funeral and became silent. Carter turned back around, and emptied his huge pockets. He had a small green paintball pistol, a rubber mask, a flashlight, and a lollypop. He tilted his head from side to side, as if considering.
âOkay, now hereâs your crash-course tutorial. There are two of them; one man and one woman. The womanâs weakness is probably the rubber mask, which will freak her out, and the lollypop, which is a prop for me to look like a cute kid. The guyâs weakness is the gunâ¦and the lady. If I can get her away, the guy follows. Flashlightâs just a handy little tool.â
âThereâs just one problem, Carter. The lollypop wonât really work with you wearing a black t-shirt that says âTo Find And Destroyâ,â Keith pointed out.
Carter sighed, âThatâs a good point,â he said. âAnd since you brought that up, Iâll show you how that sort of situation is handled by a professional such as myself.â He turned on the flashlight and shone it in his eyes until they watered. Then, he slumped his shoulders and walked slowly towards the fence, keeping his face down. If Dean, Keith, Leo, and Rob hadnât known better, they would have thought he was a sad little kid. He walked up to the tourists and said something. The guy shook his head. Carter immediately started fake crying into his hands. The lady looked sad, and the man looked pretty surprised. Carter kept crying and finally the guy shook his head again. Carter scowled, but then reverted to his previous sad expression that it was hard to tell if it hadnât just been a trick of the light. Then, his eyes rolled up and he blacked out. The guy jumped, and the lady immediately pulled out her cell phone. After dialing, apparently fruitlessly(she probably doesnât get service in a town apparently far away), she ran towards the car. The guy dropped the camera and raced after her. The car left. Carterâs eyes slotted open marginally, then he sat up, dusted himself off, and picked up the camera. He strutted over to the others.
âWhat did you do?â demanded Keith
âIâm not telling,â Carter said, pocketing the camera and the lollypop.
âCome on Carter,â pleaded Keith.
âNope,â Carter said. Keith frowned, as they kept walking.
âOkay, guys. Hereâs class,â said Rob.
âDid you know thereâs a new business in town? MegaGreen. Itâs good pay, and there are open positions for children for it: I think I might get a job there,â said Dean
âA job? Dean, are you insane?â demanded Carter, as they sat down
âCarter, you have a job,â retorted Dean, âAnd I really donât see whatâs so wrong about being responsible.â
âWhatâs wrong with being responsible? Excuse me? Dude, weâre nine years old! We have no responsibility! I mean, seriously! And if you are referring to my tourist hunting job, there is no responsibility for it, because first of all, Iâm my own boss, and second of all, I have hated tourists since I was three, and Iâve been hunting tourists since then. I mean, itâs like a part of life for me, not a job. Itâs my duty, what I was put on Earth to do,â said Carter. Dean was about to say something back, but then the teacher started his lesson.
âHello classâ¦â

A couple hours later, an exhausted Dean, Carter, Rob, and Keith half-walked, half-dragged their feet across the hall to lunch.
âI didnât think it was possible to get your body worn out by using your brain,â said Rob
âYeah,â groaned Keith
âDefinitely,â gasped Carter
âCarter, you didnât even do your work,â said Dean
âWell, annoying the teacher is just as draining as actually doing my schoolwork, and much more fulfilling,â snapped Carter. They all definitely perked up when they saw the lunch menu, though.
âTATER TOTS!â they screamed, and raced through the hall to the serving counter. Their favorite teacher, whom they called Chef, who actually wasnât a teacher, but a cook, was behind the counter, wearing a white chefâs hat, white t shirt, black pants, and a once-white apron stained by several sauces.
âHello,â he said pleasantly, adjusting his chefâs hat so the top part was leaning towards the left.
âWe want tater tots!â exclaimed Carter.
âOh, Iâm sorry children, but the fifth and sixth graders ate all the tater tots,â said Chef
âWHAT?â exclaimed Rob
â The fifth and sixth graders eat first: The sixth graders then the fifth graders then the fourth graders. Thatâs how it is,â Chef told them
âBut, Chefâ¦we donât get our tots!â screamed Carter.
âI know, I know. But the fifth and sixth graders have much harder work to do, you see? They need lunch sooner,â explained Chef.
âWhat could possibly be harder than fourth grade? Chef, weâre learning how to multiply!â exclaimed Keith
âI know, children. But there are several things harder than fourth grade: namely, fifth grade and sixth grade,â said Chef patiently.
âButâ¦butâ¦â said an astonished Dean, âHow could anything be harder than multiplication? I mean, what the heck could they be learning in there?â
âMore importantly, why do they get all the tots?â demanded Carter.
âMulti-digit multiplication, equivalent fractions, long division, and thatâs just the math. They learn how to spell things like denominator and legislature. And they also read books in the same category asâ¦sayâ¦Ruby Holler. For science, they learn about the properties of matter, occasionally the Periodic Table of Elements, and even the difference between chemical and physical reactions,â Chef told Dean. Deanâs jaw went slack.
âSoâ¦we donât get any tots?â asked a dejected Rob. Chef nodded, then, seeing how sad he was, said
âBut, I have asparagus, water, and liver!â he said, trying to cheer them up. It had the opposite effect. They slumped down at their table.
âHow did the fifth and sixth graders do it?â asked Keith, âItâs so hard.â Then, a tall kid wearing sunglasses, black pants, black boots, and a black trench coat walked up to their table.
â Hello,â said the kid, in a gravelly voice.
âDude,â hissed Carter, âItâs a fifth-grader!â
âIâm the Agent of Masks. You having trouble with your schoolwork?â asked the fifth-grader. The Agent of Masks glanced at their untouched lunches and added, âBad lunches?â They all nodded vigorously.
âWant some help?â Agent asked. They stared at the Agent of Masks.
âYouâre serious?â asked a shocked Rob
âFor a price. Cold, hard cash only, and I have a no return policy,â said the Agent.
âSure! How much?â asked Dean eagerly
âWait,â said Carter. He narrowed his eyes at the Agent. âSo, letâs see that food youâre offering us. And, what sort of help with schoolwork do you mean?â The Agent nodded approvingly.
âOkay. I like dealing with clients who have two brain cells to rub together: canât con em, but at least they donât annoy meâ Agent said. The fifth-grader placed a chocolate on the table, then a can of Coca-Cola, then a few slices of pizza, then some pistachios, then a strawberry. âPrime deal, forty bucks, mini peeps,â he said.
âPeeps?â said Dean inquisitively.
âPeople, Dean,â said an annoyed Agent. âNow, are you taking the deal or what?â
âWe would,â said Keith, âBut we donât have forty dollars,â
âAnd how did you know my name?â ordered Dean
âNo cash, no deal. Sorry peeps, but if you canât pay for it, you donât get it. This ainât a charity organization,â said the Agent, grabbing the food off the table. They stared at the tall kid walk away as the lunch recess bell rang.
âWhoâs bringing forty bucks tomorrow?â asked Carter.

"Mom, I can't believe I have to take medicine. I mean, look at the side effects on this thing: Toothaches, stomachaches, headaches, cramps, vomiting, and temporary personality change!" exclaimed Dean, at his house. His father tapped his fingers on the mahogany table from behind his paper while his mom sighed.
"Dean Franklin Jolinn, you are taking that medicine," she said. And that was that.

A day later, Dean raced towards the bus stop. Carter, Keith, and Rob were already there, and the bus was pulling up.
âDude! What happened to you?â asked Rob, staring at Dean.
âIâ¦got the job at MegaGreen,â said Dean, panting.
âDude, youâre all green. You look like a Martian,â Carter chortled.
âShut up, Carter. Besides, I brought the forty bucks for lunch, which more than compensates,â retorted Dean, then he said, âCheck it out! Leoâs rolling around the back of the bus again, and wearing that ridiculous snowsuit! WHOO!â he bellowed. Rob, Carter, and Keith exchanged a look.
âDoes he seemâ¦different to you?â asked Carter.

After school, Rob walked to Carterâs house. Along the way, he met Coin and Keith.
âHey guys. Whatâs up?â he asked.
âWe got a call from Carter. He said we need to get over to his house ASAP,â said Coin, then added âHey, isnât that Leo?â
Leo walked up.
âHey, I g-got a call f-from Carter,â he said to Coin, pointedly ignoring Keith and Rob.
âMe too,â said Rob.
âAh, gentlemen. I have some serious news,â said Carter.
âWhat is it this time Carter?â asked Keith
âThe employees of MegaGreen,â said Carter
âWhat about them?â asked Rob
âWell, theyâre being turned into zombies. Itâs a company that produces a green dye: some employees handle yellow material, some handle blue, others handle green, and for some reason, some handle purple. Now, I have learned something: it turns the employees into zombies. The ones who handle green turn into Martian zombies, the ones who handle yellow turn into Winnie the Pooh zombies, the ones who handle blue turn into Smurfs, and the ones who handle purpleâ¦â
âWhat is it, Carter?â asked Coin
âThis news is too evil for young children, I must warn you,â Carter said
âOkay, Iâm c-covering my e-ears,â said Leo, plugging his ears.
âTheyâ¦turn intoâ¦Barneys,â said Carter dramatically. Coin screamed.
âActualâ¦carbon copies of Barny?â asked a distraught Rob
âIâm afraid so. And I have more bad news: Dean is now a Martian zombie,â said Cartman
âWe must stop this cult immediately!â exclaimed Keith
âYes!â Coin agreed fervently
âC-can I unplug m-my ears now?â asked Leo


âOkay, Carter, weâre here. Why did you want to come to school to stop the cult, anyway? Think the teaches will help?â Keith laughed at his own joke
âNo. But Iâm too lazy to get rid of the cult myself. I managed to nick forty bucks,â said Carter
âFrom who? And who is gonna stop this thing, if not us?â asked Coin
âI stole from you. And to answer your other questionâ¦â said Carter to a now irate Coin. Carter walked up to the Agent of Masks with Coin, Leo, Keith, and Rob right behind him.
âHello,â Carter said
âYo,â said the Agent
âYou still up for service?â Carter queried
âI do almost everything,â replied the Agent
âThen hereâs the skinny. We want you to stop all operations at MegaGreen,â said Carter
âOkay. Whatâs in it for me?â Age asked
âForty bucks,â answered Carter confidently
âNope,â the Agent declined
âFine, then,â Carter turned to the other fourth-graders. âWhat do you got?â he asked them. They emptied their pockets.
âTen bucks here from mowing the Millersâ lawn,â called Coin
âI have twenty dollars from my grampa, but Iâm only giving in ten,â said Keith
âCome on, Keith. You need to donate everything you have for this, itâs very important,â said Carter
âFine,â said Keith, giving Carter a twenty dollar bill
âAll of it, Keith. Everyone here knows your grampa is loaded, and you happened to brag last week he gave you two hundred dollars. Now hand it over,â said Carter. A very reluctant Keith handed a few fifties to Carter, who turned back to the Agent.
âOkay, is two hundred ten dollars enough?â he asked
âSure,â said the Agent, taking the cash, then added: âMegaGreen will be out of business by sundown.â

The next day, Carter paid a visit to Agent
âOkay, did you hit MegaGreen?â he asked
âSure did. Itâs long gone,â Age, replied
âIf I may ask, what did you do?â inquired Carter
âIf I told you that, you wouldnât need to hire me any more, would you? Not a good idea for me,â replied Agent, then added, âBut you seem trustworthy. Just make sure to hire me again. I told them that MegaRed was in town now.â

The next day, Carter returned to the Agent of Masks.
"Age! You said you shut down MegaGreen! Dean is still green!"
he bellowed
"Well, yeah. I shut down the op, but once you're infected, you need a special soap. The dye is permanent otherwise," said Age.
Carter swore.
"Well, then... I'll have to take care of this myself."

"Welcome again, gents," Carter said to the crowd of fourth graders who had amassed at his house again.
"What is it now Carter?" demanded Rob.
"Dean and all MegaGreen employees are still green. We must kill them," Carter said.
"KILL THEM?" roared Lily. "Let's see... that sounds like a good idea. Let me check what I'm doing in the next 50 years, with time off for good behavior!" she added sarcastically.
"Lily's right Carter. There has to be another way," said Chip.
"Fine, fine. The soap cure required sells for 20000 American dollars per bar, and it takes five bars per person," Carter said. He swore when his paintball gun fell out of his pocket and was discharged, hitting him in the stomach, ruining his shirt. Carter bent double in pain.
"Hey! That's it!" said Leo.
"What?" grunted Carter sarcastically "Would you like to shoot me again?"


The next day, at the bus stop, Dean scowled at Carter.
"You will pay, Carter. Believe me, you will pay," he said. Carter grinned. Dean's skin was back to its normal color: he had been shot by skin-colored paintballs until there wasn't a single patch of green left.