Laggan Lard Butts (5 page)

“Well, no,” Mr. McGregor reluctantly agreed.

“Then I don't think you should try to do that here. Besides, nobody is actually going to vote for Lard Butts—maybe three people will—so what is it going to hurt?”

Mr. McGregor didn't answer right away. That was probably a good thing.

“I gave my word and I will not break it. Let the best name win,” Mr. McGregor said.

“Thanks, sir,” Tanner gushed.

“Now you should get to class.”

Mr. McGregor walked off in one direction and we continued to move the opposite way.

“That was the bravest thing I ever saw in my whole life,” Tanner said.

“Not that brave.”

“You're like my hero,” Taylor agreed.

“Big deal. It doesn't mean anything. Now we just get to spend more time trying to get people to vote for something that has no chance of winning.”

“No chance?” Tanner demanded.

“Yes, no chance.”

“I don't believe my ears,” Taylor said. “Didn't you listen to the announcements today? A quitter never wins and a Lard Butt never quits. Go, Lard Butts!”

Mr. Davidson had basically suspended all classes in language arts. Instead of the usual grammar and novel study, we were working on our election campaigns. Every single person in the class was on one campaign or another.

Some of the things the other groups were coming up with were really good, really creative. Big beautiful banners and posters
lined the halls and the front entrance. One group had written a song. It wasn't a great song—it was called “The Lions Never Lie Down”—but still it was a song.

Mr. Davidson had also assigned each group to come up with a cheer. We hadn't finished ours. Actually we hadn't started it yet.

“Okay, I've got some ideas for the motto,” Tanner said. “Ready?”

“Breathless.”

“ The Laggan Lard Butts, feel the power.”

I giggled. “I'm not sure anything to do with feeling butts is such a good thing.”

“Good point. I hadn't thought about that. Okay, here's my second one. Laggan Lard Butts, smell the victory.”

This time both Taylor and I burst into laughter.

“What's so funny?” Tanner demanded.

“I think smelling butts is probably worse than feeling them,” I explained.

Tanner smiled. “I guess that suggestion sort of stinks, which is appropriate for Butts.
Okay, my last suggestion. The Laggan Lard Butts—Why not?”

“Why not?” I questioned.

“Yeah, don't you think it's catchy?”

“I think it's
something
,” I admitted.

“Look, Sam, everybody else has something cute. It's hard to come up with something catchy for Lard Butts—as you've pointed out with my last two suggestions—so this makes sense. Why not vote for it is a question people need to think through. We want them to think about this name as a possibility.”

“Getting them thinking could work against us. Anybody who thinks will know there are better choices.”

“Keep your voice down,” Taylor cautioned me. “We can't afford to have somebody overhear you putting down your own name.”

That made sense. “If you weren't voting for our name, what name would you vote for?” I asked.

“That's a hard one,” Tanner said.

“There are lots of good choices,” Taylor agreed.

“So which one is the best choice?” I asked.

“Maybe the Lions,” Tanner said. “Lions are tough, and they've done a great job with their campaign.”

“The Lynx might be my choice,” Taylor added. “You know it's a cat, but it's a small cat, just like we're a small school. And there are lynx around here.”

“There are?” I asked.

“Well, I don't know about
right
around here. I've never seen one, but they are native to this area.”

“If I was running that campaign I'd make sure people knew about that,” Tanner said. “What about you, Sam?”

“I think I would go with Laggan Dragons because it's different. Besides, a dragon is a mythical creature that doesn't exist and we have a nonexistent chance of winning that play-off game.”

Tanner stood up and put a hand on my shoulder. “Samuel,” he said, trying to sound very adult, “how many times must I remind you that a Lard Butt doesn't quit?”

“Wait, maybe that should be our motto!” Taylor exclaimed. “A Lard Butt doesn't quit!”

“I like it. Sammy?”

“Sure beats any of the other suggestions. Let's put that on our new posters. How are our new posters doing?” I asked.

“Do you want fast or do you want right?” Tanner asked.

“I'd settle for either. When will they be up?”

“I'll bring them tomorrow. You seem to be in a big rush, for somebody who doesn't think we have a chance.”

“I don't, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try.”

“You hear what the Leopards are doing?” Taylor asked.

“What?” I asked, although it would probably be better if I didn't know.

“You know how Sarah helps with the kindergartens at morning recess?” Taylor said.

“Yeah.”

“She's been down there telling them that
she's with the Leopard team and that they should all vote for the Leopards.”

“That doesn't surprise me.”

“She's even been giving them little Leopard stickers,” Tanner added.

“She can't do that.”

“She's already doing it.”

“No, she can't, she can't do that!” I exclaimed.

I jumped to my feet and the twins jumped up after me. I rushed over to Mr. Davidson.

“Mr. Davidson, one of the teams is cheating!” I said in a very loud voice.

He looked up from his desk. Suddenly the sound of people working faded. Nobody in the room was working anymore; they were all watching me.

“One of the teams is cheating,” I repeated.

“Those are pretty strong words. Please explain.”

“Isn't it illegal and anti-democratic to buy votes?” I asked.

“Of course. And you think one of the teams is buying votes?”

“Not think.
Know
.” I turned around and pointed directly at the Leopards' table. “The Leopards are giving stickers to the kindergartens!”

There were actually gasps from people. It felt like a court drama in the movies.

“Is this true, Sarah?” he asked.

“We're giving them stickers, but not in exchange for their votes.”

“Then why are you giving them leopard stickers?” I demanded.

“I'm giving them stickers so they'll vote for Leopards,” she said.

“So you admit it!”

“But I'm not buying their votes. I'm just trying to influence them to vote for Leopards.”

“I don't really see the difference and if I can't understand it I don't think those kindergarten kids can either.”

“You're probably not as smart as those little kids in kinder—”

“Mr. Davidson!” Tanner yelled out. “It sounds like she's going to put somebody down. It's bad enough they're trying to
buy votes. Now they have started insulting people.”

“But...but...”

“It's
Lard
Butt, not but, but,” Tanner said, cutting her off again.

“Well, Mr. Davidson, is Sarah allowed to give things to voters or not?” I asked.

He looked at me, then at Sarah, and back at me. He shook his head. “No giveaways.”

Tanner and Taylor began to cheer. So did more than half the class.

Maybe Lard Butts wasn't going to win. But at least we'd make it hard for the Leopards to succeed.

“Could Samuel, Taylor and Tanner please report to the office,” Mr. McGregor called out over the PA.

We looked at each other. The rest of the lunchroom stopped eating and looked at us too.

“But we haven't done anything wrong, have we?” Taylor asked.

“Nothing that anybody knows about,” Tanner added.

“He didn't sound angry,” Taylor said.

“He never sounds angry,” I said.

“What do you think he wants?”

“Only one way to find out. Come on.”

We gathered up the remains of our lunches. I always tried to act cool about being in the office, but I never had an appetite after a trip down there. Even after all the times I'd been sent to the office, it still bothered me. I tossed my lunch in the garbage can—basket!

We shuffled down the hall and into the office. The secretary was away at lunch. Behind the counter were two students, Katie and Sarah. I had to fight the urge to turn around and leave. I'd forgotten Sarah did this during lunch sometimes.

Sarah looked up from the desk and smiled at us—no smile wasn't the right word. She smirked. How could I ever have liked that girl? How could I ever have gone out with her? What an idiot I was!

“What a surprise, the three of you are in the office and in trouble,” she said sweetly.

“What a surprise, you're in the office being a suck-up,” I replied, equally as sweetly.

The smirk vanished and she turned red in the face. I always could make her turn red, either in embarrassment or frustration.

“That was really unfair, bringing up those stickers,” Sarah said.

“The only unfair thing was giving them away to begin with.”

“I wasn't doing anything wrong!” she protested.

“I guess that was why Mr. Davidson made you stop, because you were doing nothing wrong. Don't get mad at me for simply pointing out what you were doing.”

Before she could answer, Mr. McGregor poked his head out of his office. He gestured for us to come in. Taylor and Tanner went inside right away. I took a side trip, grabbed a chair and carried it into his office with me. They were already seated when I brought the chair in. I put it down beside Taylor—no, Tanner.

“Sam could you please close the door,” Mr. McGregor asked.

“Yeah, sure.” I turned around and closed it. This was not a good sign.

“I don't like my conversations to be overheard,” he explained.

I sat down. At that same instant Mr. McGregor got up from his seat, circled his desk and perched on its edge. This was different. Different made me nervous.

“So, boys, how is the campaign going?” he asked.

Was he snarling? No that was a smile.

I waited for one of the twins to answer. They were waiting for me. I guess it was best to go with experience. I had the most experience with office visits so it was up to me.

“It's going pretty good.”

“There were some great suggestions,” he said. “I have my personal favorite, although it's best that I don't tell anybody. I wouldn't want to influence the students by telling them which one I want to win.”

I was pretty sure Lard Butts wasn't on his shortlist.

“I'm more interested in how
your
campaign is going.” He gave that same snarly sort of smile. I felt like shuddering. I liked his serious yelling face much better.

“Okay, I guess.”

“Not as good as some of them,” Tanner chipped in, again trying to move the conversation in a different direction. That was smart.

“Some of the teams have fancy posters and banners and cheers,” he said.

“We don't even have a motto really,” Taylor said.

“Yeah, I think we're in last place,” Tanner said. Mr. McGregor's face seemed to loosen up a little. I'm sure that made him happy.

“I was wondering if you boys could do me a favor,” he said.

“Sure!” Tanner said.

“Of course,” Taylor agreed.

“Depends on the favor,” I said, and all three of them looked at me. The sound of escaping air came from Mr. McGregor.

“I wonder if you would consider—and this is strictly your choice, you are under no pressure whatsoever—allowing the name Lard Butt to be removed from the list?”

“It's not going to win,” I said.

“Hopefully not.”

I laughed. “So much for not telling us what name you want to win.”

“I didn't tell you what I want to win,” he said. “I'm telling you what name I
don't
want to win.”

“Don't worry, it won't win. Like I said, it's in third or fourth place at best.”

“It is now.” He paused. “You three have a great deal of influence with your peers.”

“We do?” I asked.

“Certainly. You're popular and play on all the teams. Winning your last game certainly didn't hurt. And even when you
occasionally
get into trouble it's not for doing anything hurtful toward another student.”

“Never.”

“Generally you're friends with, and friendly to, almost everybody,” he said.

“Almost everybody.” He'd probably heard me bickering with Sarah. There was something about her that brought out the worst in me. That smug little smile, always knowing the answers, how she always had her makeup done just perfectly, wore the right clothes and smelled so good and—

“So would you consider abandoning your campaign?” he asked.

Tanner and Taylor both looked over at me, as if it was my decision.

“I don't think we can do that,” I said. “A winner never quits and a quitter never wins, right?”

He nodded his head slowly. “I didn't think you'd agree, but I felt obligated to ask. Thanks for listening. Please go and finish your lunch.”

“Thanks.”

We all got up. We started to leave and I remembered I'd brought a chair into the office. I bumped past the twins to grab it.

“I really don't think it's going to win,” I said to Mr. McGregor.

“I think you might be right, but you could be wrong. Do you really want the teams to be called the Lard Butts?”

I shrugged.

“Keep that in mind as you continue your campaign.”

I looked down at the empty end of the court. There was only five minutes left until the start of the game, and the Traynor Tigers hadn't even come out for their warm-up. They hadn't been delayed in traffic. It was their home game, in their gym, at their school. I didn't think they were in their change room, desperately planning a way to beat us. All they had to do was walk out onto the court to do that.