Stink Moody in Master of Disaster (Judy Moody and Friends) Read online

  out the window.

  “Did the house

  just shake? Is that

  a radioactive

  glow?”

  .

  42

  Just then, the lights went out. The

  basement went dark. Dark as an

  eclipse. Dark as a black hole.

  “This is it! Killer asteroid hits

  Earth and takes out power grid!”

  Stink threw on a pair of goggles,

  grabbed his light saber, and yelled,

  “Never fear! Asteroid Boy is here!”

  He pointed to the toaster, which was

  covered with magnets. “Judy, activate

  the Anti-Asteroid Magnetic-Repulsion

  Device!”

  “Stink, I think you’re the asteroid.

  You have too much stuff plugged in

  down here. You blew a fuse. Dad’s

  going to blow a fuse, too.”

  .

  44

  “But . . . we’re alive!” said Stink. He

  fell to his knees in relief. “We survived

  a giant ball of rock, metal, and dust

  crashing into Earth at sixty thousand

  miles per second.”

  Judy sniffed the air. “I don’t smell

  rotting coconuts. So I guess we didn’t

  get squashed like ants.”

  Stink ran outside. Judy ran after

  him.

  Stink peered up at the sky with his

  asteroid-proof X-ray-vision goggles.

  Stink peered up into the trees. Stink

  peered down at the grass.

  “I need proof,” said Stink. “Proof

  that I survived an asteroid hitting

  Earth faster than a speeding bullet.”

  .

  46

  “You’re proof, Stink. I’m proof. See?

  We’re not as flat as pancakes.”

  “Pancakes! That reminds me. I’m

  hungry.”

  “Surviving an asteroid attack will

  do that,” said Judy. “Let’s ask Mom if

  she’ll make us silver-dollar pancakes.”

  “When,” said Stink.

  “Huh?”

  “Not if. When

  . Ask Mom when she’s

  going to make us pancakes.”

  “Stink, you are the Master of

  Disaster!” said Judy. “If an asteroid

  ever hits Earth, I’m calling Asteroid

  Boy.”

  “Not if,” said Asteroid Boy, grinning

  ear to ear. “When.”

  .

  49

  CHA

  p

  TER

  3

  PLOP! A big fat envelope landed on

  the Moodys’ front step.

  “It’s for me!” said Stink.

  “It’s for me!” said Judy.

  “But it has my name on it,” said

  Stink.

  Judy stared at the big fat envelope.

  It was not her mail-order ants.

  Stink grabbed the envelope and

  Albert Einstink

  .

  50

  tore it open. “It’s from the way-official

  Name-That-Star Company.”

  “Name-the-What?”

  “Name-That-Star. I’m going to have

  a star named after me.”

  “Stink, there are a million, billion

  stars in the galaxy. I don’t think

  they’re going to name one for you.”

  “Yah-huh.” He held up the papers.

  “It’s all right here in my star-naming

  kit. There’s a way-official certificate.

  51

  And a real-and-actual

  photo of my very own

  star.”

  Way-official instructions.

  .

  52

  Judy studied the star photo. “Huh.

  What are you going to name it? Stink

  Star?” She cracked up.

  Stink’s jaw dropped. “Oh, no,” he

  moaned. “I never thought of that. The

  Stink Star is not a very good name for

  a star.”

  “Use your real name. Call it the

  James Star.”

  “James is not special enough for a

  star. There are three Jameses in my

  second-grade class!”

  Judy picked up her Grouchy pencil.

  “I’ll help you. You make a list of

  names, and I’ll make a list of names.

  Then you’ll have tons of names to

  choose from.”

  .

  Stink thought and thought. Stink

  chewed his pencil.

  Judy scribbled on her list. “Stella?

  Stellina? Starla?” she read.

  “No girl names,” said Stink.

  “Orion? Sirius? Hercules?”

  “Taken,” said Stink.

  “Balthazar?”

  “Balthazar Moody,” said Stink.

  “Maybe.”

  “Let’s hear some names on your

  list,” said Judy.

  “Batman? Superman? Plutoman?”

  “Superman Moody? No way. There’s

  kryptonite in outer space, you know.

  Your star would get clobbered.”

  “Spike? Dracula? Godzilla?” Stink

  asked.

  “Dracula Moody. I like it!” said

  Judy. “But it would starve up there.”

  .

  56

  Stink got out the Big Head Book

  of Baby Names. “Maybe I’ll find a

  name in here!” He opened to the A’s.

  “Abner, Achilles, Achoo,” Stink read.

  “Bless you,” said Judy.

  “No, that’s a name: Achoo!”

  “No way is somebody named

  Achoo,” said Judy.

  Stink frowned. “You’re right. My

  star can’t be named for a sneeze.”

  He flipped some pages. “Sheesh.

  There are ten hundred names in here.

  It will take light-years to find the right

  name.”

  “Close your eyes, open the book,

  and point,” said Judy.

  Stink closed his eyes. Stink opened

  the book. Stink pointed. “Lollipop,”

  57

  he read. “Ten thousand names and

  I point to the name of a big slobbery

  sucker?”

  .

  58

  Stink went to find Mom and Dad.

  He asked them how to choose a

  brand-new, not-sneezy, un-slobbery-

  sucker name to put on a star.

  “A name should say something

  about you,” said Mom.

  “Like Judy is moody? And Riley

  Rottenberger is
rotten?” asked Stink.

  “Sort of,” said Dad.

  “And like Stink is stinky?” said Judy.

  “Try thinking of something that

  makes you special,” said Dad. “Or

  someone you admire.”

  Stink’s face lit up. “I got it! Albert

  Einstink!”

  .

  60

  “Forget it, Stink Face,” said Judy.

  “Your brain is way too puny.”

  “How about my initials and my

  birthday: JEM-229.”

  “My brother, the robot,” said Judy.

  “How about a super-cool spy name,

  like Mosquito? Or Neptune Shadow?”

  “That’s it!” said Judy.

  “Really?”

  “N-O!” said Judy. “Let’s put all the

  names in a bowl, Stink. We’ll mix

  them up. Then close your eyes, reach

  in, and pull one out.”

  “Hey! You just gave me an idea,”

  said Stink. He scribbled in his

  notebook. “Ready for this?”

  .

  “Ready, Freddy!” said Judy.

  “Hercules-Balthazar-Superman-

  Dracula-Achoo-Lollipop-JEM-229-

  Mosquito-Albert-Einstink.”

  “You’re going to name your star

  Hercules-Balthazar-Superman-

  Dracula-Achoo-Lollipop-JEM-229-

  Mosquito-Albert-Einstink?”

  “Right.”

  .

  Judy picked up the way-official star

  packet. She read silently for about a

  hundred light-years. Then she said,

  “Stink, there are rules. First of all, a

  star name can’t be more than sixteen

  letters long. The name you picked is

  like sixteen million letters long. Plus

  some numbers!”

  “Yikes,” said Stink.

  “Second of all, a star name can

  only be one word. Your name is nine

  million words long.”

  “Double yikes,” said Stink. He

  scratched his head.

  .

  “I know!” he said. “How about if

  my star’s name is Hercules-Balthazar-

  Superman-Dracula-Achoo-Lollipop-

  JEM-229-Mosquito-Albert-Einstink, but

  you call it Stink for short?”

  “Perfect,” said Mom and Dad.

  “You think?” asked Stink.

  “If the Stink fits, wear it,” said Judy.

  .