Super Troop by Bruce Hale

Super Troop by Bruce Hale

Author:Bruce Hale
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.


But Pierce skipped the guided tour. Instead, he led us through a small, tidy kitchen and into the backyard.

Or should I say, the toxic waste dump?

My jaw dropped. The place was a disaster area. Rusty, busted patio furniture and what looked like a defunct washing machine sprawled in agony among waist-high weeds, like fallen soldiers. Looking closer, I spotted an old truck tire, a deflated inflatable pool, and other random trash peeking out. A solitary dead tree presided over the whole mess.

“Rangers … halt!” barked Mr. Pierce.

We stopped. I can’t speak for Nacho, but my heart sank all the way to my socks. This was no minor punishment. This was a month’s worth of mess to clean up. Surely he didn’t expect us to handle it all.

“What, uh, what exactly do you want us to do?” I asked. When Pierce lifted an eyebrow, I added, “Sir.”

“As you can see, this yard is a fixer-upper,” said our troopmaster. “I only had time to fix up the front.”

“I guess,” said Nacho, forgetting the “sir.”

“You two dipsticks are going to make this area shipshape again.”

“But that’ll take forever!” I protested.

Mr. Pierce’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you planted pasta in my lawn.”

Yeah, like the state of his backyard had ever figured into our prank planning. I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, and I found your stink bombs,” said our troopmaster. “A little tip?”

“Sir?” said Nacho.

“If you set one of them off before the prank, it spoils the surprise.”

Oh, great. He didn’t even step on the other ones? So much for teaching him a lesson.

Mr. Pierce indicated a wheelbarrow, gardening tools, and two sets of gloves. “There’s your equipment.”

I gulped. “Where do we start?”

“First, haul all the bigger trash out to the curb for pickup,” he said. “Then pull the weeds—and make sure you remove all those roots. I don’t want them growing back. After you’re done with all that, we’ll talk about the tree.”

“Oh-kayyy …” said Nacho, clearly stunned by the amount of work ahead of us.

Mr. Pierce started back inside, then pivoted on his heel at the doorway. “I’ll be in my office. And remember: no lollygagging. I’ve got eyes in the back of my head.”

I didn’t doubt it for a second. He probably had a backyard spy camera too.

Nacho looked like his favorite dog had just run off to join the Iditarod. “This summer just keeps getting better and better.”

I rubbed my forehead. “I know. I’m actually beginning to think we might be better off toeing the line for a while.”

Nacho didn’t even object. He just gave the mother of all heavy sighs.

And with that, we put on the gloves and got down to work.



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