Backwards Elementary

Introduction

WARNING:

This story has a lot of sdrawkcab words in it. And sdrawkcab forwards is backwards. You’ll get it soon. Some of these children are, well . . . sdrawkcab. Again, you’ll get it. Please don’t read any chapters about food if you’re planning to eat in the next 400 hours. Or if you ate in the last 400 hours. Actually, just to be safe, if you’re ever gonna eat again, don’t read any chapters about food. Except for gourmet. Gourmet’s good. Oh, and skip all the chapters that have to do with Butt. You’ll lose your sense of smell. No, you’ll only smell the worst stenches. Blech. Mrs. Han’s Closet of Mysteries? Some are good, and some are REALLY, REALLY, bad. And finally, never, ever, ever, EVER go in the basement. That’s where the AUTHOR’S hiding.

Meet Mrs. Han’s Class

Bob is a kid in Mrs. Han’s class. His classroom is sdrawkcab. It’s in the middle of Nowhere. He always walks there because his parents can’t seem to find it on their GPS. Bob is very tall, but he’s extremely short. Bob has been in Yrtnemele  Sdrawkcab for 2 years, so he’s already been turned sdrawkcab by their counselor, Seniel. Dr.    Seniel. Dr is the only teacher who has been turned sdrawkcab.

Hanming is a kid in Mrs. Han’s class. He’s her son. He’s been at Yrtnemele Sdrawkcab forever. Mrs. Han didn’t want him to be, but according to school rules, he had to be turned sdrawkcab. He’s very athletic, and he can’t even throw a ball. 

Felony is a kid in Mrs. Han’s class. She’s been at Yrtnemele Sdrawkcab for 3 years. She used to be a total teacher’s pet, and before her name was Brown-Noser. Now she robs banks and steals dignity. 

Destan is an adult in Mrs. Han’s class. He has been at Yrtnemele Sdrawkcab for 38 years.  He was turned sdrawkcab and now looks like a baby. He still has a mustache.

Jeanie is a kid in Mrs. Han’s class. She has been in Yrtnemele Sdrawkcab for 10 years. She used to be hate songs and snooty, purebred dogs. Now she has 467 dogs, all named Yankee Poodle. She used to have 468, but one disappeared.

Ted is a triplet in Mrs. Han’s class. He used to be a quadruplet in Mrs. Han’s class, but one turned into a robber of banks and dignity. He’s been at Yrtnemele Sdrawkcab for 8 years.

Fred is a triplet in Mrs. Han’s class. He used to be a quadruplet in Mrs. Han’s class, but one turned into a robber of banks and dignity. He’s been at Yrtnemele Sdrawkcab for 8 years.

Zed is a triplet in Mrs. Han’s class. She used to be a quadruplet in Mrs. Han’s class, but one of them, whose name didn’t sound at all like theirs, turned into a robber of banks and dignity. She’s been at Yrtnemele Sdrawkcab for 8 years.

Coo-Koo is a Coo-Koo Head in Mrs. Han’s class. He’s been at Yrtnemele Sdrawcab for 6 years. He was already sdrawkcab when he signed up for school, so he had been the same person. Everyone else in Mrs. Han’s class thought he used to be neat and orderly, but he never was. 

Butt is a smelly rat in Mrs. Han’s class. He’s been at Yrtnemele Sdrawckab for 18 years. He used to be a purebred, snooty dog named Yankee poodle. When Seniel. Dr turned him sdrawkcab, he tried to turn him back after Butt wrecked his office, but the counselor couldn’t possibly survive the extremely foul stench.

Wuss is the only normal kid in Mrs. Han’s class. Even though his name says otherwise. He’s been at Yrtnemele Sdrawkcab for 6 months. His real name is Greg, and he has overoverprotective parents. (That means double protective.) His mom and dad wouldn’t let Seniel. Dr turn him sdrawkcab, so the class settled to just calling him Wuss because he had overoverprotective parents. He actually loved taking risks and was really brave.

Mrs. Han is a teacher in Mrs. Han’s class. She’s worked at Yrtnemele Sdrawkcab for 41 years. As I mentioned earlier, none of the teachers other than Seniel. Dr have been turned sdrawkcab. Mrs. Han is really nice, patient, and a teensy bit weird, plus she doesn’t value her son, Hanming more or less than her other students.  

Aadi Mukherjee is the author of the Yrtnemele Sdrawkcab. He’s really a creepy stalker hiding in the basement of the school or Mrs. Han’s Closet of Mysteries,  taking notes of everything that happens.

Ted, Fred, and Zed’s Lucky Things

Everyone in Mrs. Han’s class was worried and scared. There was a deadly cobra roaming the school. But that’s not what they were worried about. Deadly cobras? BORING. 

They were worried about the fire drill. And they weren’t scared of the fire drill itself. They were scared of the time the fire drill was. Lunch recess. 

Lunch recess was the longest recess there was. And the fire drill was in the gym, where Principal Chop talked about stupid stuff like safety procedures and junk. Like, why would you even report to the field when the fire would just burn it? Did they want to get us killed? Zed, Ted, and Fred all thought. 

(Their brains are connected. Also, at that exact same moment, Felony thought, I’m pretty sure  they want to kill us, so I’ll take their money tonight.

So they decided to stop the fire drill, which was in 3 hours. During snack recess, which was only 15 minutes LONG, they visited the recess duty staff, Mr. Ben. 

He was really dumb. “Hey, kids,” he said. 

Hey, Mr. Ben,” they said in unison. Zed twirled her hair and fluttered her eyelashes. Mr. Ben blushed. 

What-what do you need, fellas?” Zed scowled. “And girl,” he added. Zed scowled harder. Mr. Ben looked scared. 

“We-we need you to stop the fire drill,” Ted interrupted quickly.  Mr. Ben scratched his forehead. 

“Dunno how,” he said. Fred whispered a plan in his ear. 

He nodded.  “But what in it for me?” he asked. Fred shrugged.  

“What do you want?” 

“A sixth finger on my right hand.”

“Say whaaa?”

“A sixth-“

“Yeah, yeah, I got it, but whaaaaa?”

“A si-” 

“OMG, shut up! But WHAAAAAA?” 

Mr. Ben didn’t say anything. 

Ted glanced at the gigantic grandfather clock hanging in the middle of Nowhere. 10:13.

Seven minutes left. 

“Everyone, empty your pockets,” he ordered, shuffling through his. Lunch money, lint, and a  small ball of tape. 

Fred had more lint, lunch money, a gooey, green,  unknown thingy, and a marker cap. Zed had even more lint, lunch money, a puny pebble, and an old monster finger from Halloween. 

“Perfect!” she exclaimed. “But it’s hollow, because you’re supposed to put it on your finger, not use it for a new one. Fred took out his marker cap and slid it in the slit in the finger. It fit flawlessly. 

“Now it’s not,” he said. “But quick question: why the heck do you have something from Halloween when it’s the MIDDLE OF MAY?!” 

Zed shrugged. “How are we going to get it on?” she wondered. 

“Aha! My tape ball!” Ted said. 3 more minutes left. He stuck it to Mr. Ben’s right hand. It stayed attached for about 7 seconds, then fell off. Ted sulked.

“Wait a second,” said Fred, “I have a gooey, green, unknown thingy!” “Are you okay with gooey, green, unknown thingies stuck to your hand?” he asked Mr. Ben. The staff nodded. One and a half minutes left until 4th period. After that, it was fire drill time. Fred jammed it onto the monster finger and attached it to Mr. Ben’s hand.  The recess duty staff gazed at his sixth finger. 

“Deal,” said Mr. Ben. Now I could tell you what the plan is, but then it wouldn’t be as fun, soooo . . . GNIR! GNIR! went the bell. 

“Time for 4th period,” said the triplets. 

“Wait!” said Mr. Ben. 

“What?”

“I want to give you this . . . TEMPORARILY.” He handed each of them a walkie-talkie. 

“COOL,” they said.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

In the middle of art, a.k.a. 4th period, Zed told Mr. Ben on the walkie-talkie, “Operation Fake-Giving-The-Classroom-A-Package-When-We-Are-Actually-Giving-You-Lunch-Money is a go. Working on the name. Over.” Soon there was a knock at the door. 

“Package for Mrs. Han’s classroom. For her Closet Of Mysteries,” Mr. Ben said.

Mrs. Han rushed to the door. 

“Ooh, I didn’t order anything,” she said excitedly. “Must be a surprise! But I don’t want to interrupt class.” She told everyone to look away, and quickly tossed it, wrapped, into the closet. Ted, Fred, and Zed sighed at the same time. What was really inside the package? Oh, it would definitely be a surprise.  Mr. Ben fake tripped and smoothly swiped their lunch money and hid it in his pocket. He walked out the door with a guilty smile on his face, but no one questioned it, luckily.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mr. Ben dropped the lunch money right next to Principal Fest’s office and cried out, “Ooh! A bunch of dollar bills shaped into an ‘F’ shape! Maybe someone whose name starts with an F should come and get it!” Now, Principal Fest only likes two things: Money and people with money. He didn’t really care about Yrtnemele Sdrawkcab that much, but he did care about being principal. Actually, let me rephrase that; he cared about the money from being principal. But he was eating lunch in the teachers’ lounge at the moment, which is where all the teachers go to party and watch romance movies. (Adults eat lunch really early for some reason; what’s up with that?) Mr. Ben talked into his walkie-talkie: “Emergency! Code purple! Principal can’t hear! Over!” Zed pulled her pebble out of her pocket. 

“Come up here, and think of something to say! Over.”  A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Mrs. Han opened the door and Mr. Ben came running in.

“YADHTRIB YPPAH!” He casually marched to Zed’s desk. Mr. Ben glanced around, doing a great job of looking confused. “I’m sorry, I thought this was Mr. Burrop’s class. It’s his birthday,” he whispered. Zed slid him the pebble, and he put it in his pocket. “Bye,” he said and quickly walked out of the room. The other kids were suspicious for a second, because Mr. Burrop’s class wasn’t even on this floor, plus their classroom number was 53, and his was 112, so there was no way they would even be close. But, then again, if they were at a school named Yrtnemele Sdrawkcab, in the middle of Nowhere, probably anything was possible. 

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Mr. Ben snuck right next to the teachers’ lounge. Luckily, there was an open window. He aimed and threw the stone right at Principal Fest’s head. He rushed back to his original spot, next to the principal’s office, quickly laid the dollar bills (a.k.a. Fred, Ted, and Zed’s lunch money) in place, and once again shouted, “Wow, a bunch of dollar bills, lying on the floor in an ‘F’ shape! I bet someone whose name starts with an ‘F’ should come and get it!” Now, back in the teachers’ lounge, Principal Fest had all senses heightened, looking for whoever had thrown that pebble. And he heard the call. The call for money. He scrambled to his office . . . 

Now, you remember Felony? See, she’s a bank robber. And she likes money. She likes it a LOT. So when she heard that, she slapped Mrs. Han across the FACE and dashed for the moola. 

Yrtnemele Sdrawkcab has a lot of floors. And even more classrooms. 2309 floors, 11,376 classrooms. 1,951 teachers who start with F. And they all came for the cash. (They have really good hearing.)  They included Mr. Frank, who knew karate, Mr. Fertass, who knew jiu jitsu, Mrs. Feleo, who was smart and deceiving, and Mr. Felix, who was just plain burly. Felony? Well, 99.999999% she was gonna be in the finale, probably with either Mrs. Feleo or Mr. Felix. 99.999% she was gonna get the money. 

Principal Fest growled at them. Literally growled. 

“Principal order.” he rumbled through gritted teeth, “get away . . . from the money.” 

“Oh yeah?” snarled Mr. Fertass.  “You’re not our principal.” “You only control the first 603 floors. Me, Mr. Felix, Mrs. Feleo, and Mr. Frank aren’t on any of those floors.” 

“Fine,” he said. “We’ll have to fight for it. Felony, you’re on the 367th floor. You stay out of this.” (It’s not like he knew everyone at the school. Felony had just been in his office so many times, it stuck in his brain.) 

Felony bared her teeth. Principal Fest shivered. “Fine. You’re in the battle. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Meanwhile, Zed, Ted, and Fred were still in Art class, waiting for the signal. “Ten more minutes until the fire drill,” said Mrs. Han. Ted was sweating buckets. Suddenly Fred felt this tug in his stomach. He knew what that meant. One of his siblings was in danger. But that was impossible. Ted and Zed were right next to him. Or were they? Just to make sure, he poked each of them with his pencil. Nope, solid as a giraffe going scuba diving. Still, he raised his hand. He had a distant sense that whoever it was, seemed to be next to the principal’s office.

“Mrs. Han?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“Sure, love.”

Fred zipped to the door. His siblings shot quizzical faces at him. He ignored them. He spotted the commotion at the principal’s office, and it was NOT what he expected. A bunch of teachers were lying on the floor, exhausted, and for some reason, all the ones he recognized names’ started with the letter ‘F’. He was even more surprised when he saw Felony wrestling with Mr. Felix, who the kids called “Muscle Man”. Even more sdrawkcab, Felony socked the poor guy in the stomach and made him wish he had never met her. It was like an arena. Only Mrs. Feleo, Felony, Mr. Frank, and surprisingly, Mr. Fest were still in the game. Mrs. Feleo was like a beautiful, dazzling, FEROCIOUS beast. She flirted with Mr. Frank for like, 3 seconds and then kicked him straight in the nuts. Ooh, that’s gotta hurt! “Help . . . me,” he squeaked. Mrs. Feleo moved on to Mr. Fest, but he was hardcore. Girls didn’t faze him, especially when it came to money. He was smart, so he faked being naive, and when Mrs. Feleo tried to do her signature move on him, he blocked her leg and slapped her across the face, Felony style! The audience froze. They never thought a man would hit a woman. But Mrs. Feleo recovered quickly and gave him a thumbs-up. “Well played, Fest. Well played.” 

Mr. Ben didn’t know what to do. He was in Principal Fest’s office, but pretty much everyone at the school knew that Fest wasn’t in his office, so they wouldn’t believe it was actually him speaking. So he created someone new. He turned on the intercom and announced, “Attention, students. This is Vice Principal . . . er, Bob speaking. Principal Fest is . . . uh . . . occupied, so I will be telling you that the fire drill will be moved to tomorrow, during 7th period. 

Back in the classroom, they were confused for a second. Vice Principal Erbob? Weird name. But then they cheered. They cheered and cheered. Especially because 7th period was How To Fake Being A Vice Principal With A Questionable Name class. BORING with a capital B!!

Felony and Fest were circling each other, looking at their prey. But when the principal heard about “Vice Principal Erbob”,  he totally blew up. “PAUSE! PAUSE! Call to principal duties!” he bellowed.  Mr. Ben heard him, and dashed down to the blacktop, taking the intercom with him. As soon as Principal Fest reached his office, he immediately grabbed hold of the place where the intercom usually was. His fingers closed around an eraser. “Attention, STUDENTS,” he said into the eraser.

Mr. Fyde wandered into the room. Ever since he had clonked his head against Mr. Felix’s rock-hard muscles he had started seeing things. 

So when he caught sight of the principal yelling into an eraser, he put his hand to his head and wailed, “MY GOOBNESS! I better see Seniel. Dr!”

Mr. Ben had done his job, and the fire drill was moved to the boringest period in the history of everything, and everyone was happy.

Except Ted, Fred and Zed. Why weren’t they happy? Everything was perfect, and Felony got her money. (Fest was mad for a bit, but then he realized that the only thing you could buy with that much money was an exclusive “Mystery Meatloaf” lunch.) The triplets were sad because all their LUCKY things, the finger(it’s plastic, okay?, the money, the gooey, unknown, green thingy, the pebble, the marker cap, even the tape ball. They were all gone. They decided to talk to Mrs. Han about it.

Of course they didn’t tell her about the part when they sabotaged the whole fire drill and started a school wide battle for six bucks.

“Well, you’re right, kids,” Mrs. Han said. “All of your stuff is gone. But . . .”

“What?” they asked in unison.

“Well, pocket lint can be useful too!”

Everyone smiled.

Hanming’s Try-outs

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