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Monday, May 3, 2010

#18 REVENGE OF THE PINK GRANNY PANTIES (REVISED)

Dear Secret Agent,

Chuck Masters just wants to have a little fun.  Fun is not something his one-horse town of Harly, Oklahoma is famous for.  It is famous for basketball, and Chuck's the M.V.P. of the eighth grade team.  

Then Foster F. Finkman blows into town like an F5 tornado.  Chuck and his buds, Naz and Bryan, get sucked into Triple F's vortex of chaos.  The boys pull one prank too many and cause a substitute teacher to lose his cool and his job.  Chuck's conscience kicks in, and when he stands up to Finkman and bucks his next stunt, it's a declaration of all out war.  Finkman disses Chuck's single mom, provoking Chuck and posse to launch the "Revenge of the Pink Granny Panties" with a basket of over-sized undies as their arsenal. When Chuck's get-even scheme backfires, it costs him his spot on the team, the respect of the coach he looks to as a father, and his friends.  Now Chuck has to find a way to put down his pride and earn them back.

My publishing credits include Highlights for Children, Characters, Story Something and Chess Life for Kids.  Several of my boy stories have won awards, most notably:  "Valentine's Day Disaster," Highlights Author of the Month, February 2010, and "Quince Chaos," 2009 Highlights fiction contest winner.  I'm an active member of SCBWI.

Thank you for your time and consideration.  REVENGE OF THE PINK GRANNY PANTIES is complete at 27,000 words and ready for review upon request.

***

I walked into math class and scoped out the sub.  
         
Easy prey.  
         
What little life this guy had was about to get a whole lot worse.  
         
Mrs. Billet, our math teacher, had finally had her kid and was home changing diapers for a month.  We were on our second sub of the week, and Foster F. Finkman made it his job to upset subs.  
         
I was his partner in crime.  
         
Mr. Thompson was the victim of a bad brown toupee.  It reminded me of Grunt, my guinea pig.  This teacher wannabe was somewhere between thirty and fifty, had braces and smelled like he had roadkill in his grill.  I'd had him as a sub since kindergarten, and he hadn't changed a bit.  Except for the braces.

Toupee Thompson knew all of us at Harly Middle School by name.  It isn't a big school, since Harly, Oklahoma isn't a big town.  Okies say you can stand at one end of it and spit to the other.  So when he noticed Finkman was new, the sub flashed a silvery smile and squeaked, "What's your name, young man?"
 
Finkman stood and squeaked back, "Foster Florentine Finkman.  And I hope you don't mind me asking, but is that your real hair?"  

The class went crazy.  Thompson turned pink and started to stutter.  He had this foamy spit at the corners of his mouth.  "F-F-Finkman?  What kind of s-s-stupid m-m-made up name is that?"