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“Louis put it in yesterday,” said Jenny.
Mrs. Jewls was still confused. There were three Erics in her class. She didn’t know which one Mr. Kidswatter meant.
Eric Fry was fat, but not short.
Eric Bacon was short, but not fat.
Eric Ovens was short and fat.
Mrs. Jewls chose the biggest Eric. “Eric Fry, Mr. Kidswatter wants to see you.”
Eric Fry trembled as he slowly stood up.
The other two Erics smiled.
The principal’s office was on the first floor. It’s not fair, Eric thought as he headed down to his doom. Anytime any Eric does something wrong, I’m the one who gets in trouble.
He stood in front of the principal’s door. His heart beat very fast. He took a couple of breaths, then knocked lightly.
“Enter!” boomed M
r. Kidswatter.
Eric turned the doorknob. He took one step inside, then stood with his back against the wall, as far away from Mr. Kidswatter as he could get.
Mr. Kidswatter sat behind an enormous desk. He wore mirrored sunglasses so Eric couldn’t tell where he was looking. “Sit down, Eric,” he said.
Eric moved to the small metal chair in front of the desk. A bare light bulb hung above his head.
Mr. Kidswatter cracked his knuckles. “We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way,” he said. “It’s your choice.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Eric. “I didn’t do anything.”
“So it’s the hard way, is it?” asked Mr. Kidswatter. “Very well. You’ll talk. One way or another, you’ll tell me everything I want to know.”
“But—”
Mr. Kidswatter pounded his fist on his desk. “When was the last time you sharpened your pencil?”
Eric tried to remember, but he was too nervous to think. “Um, wait, let me think,” he stammered. “We had a spelling test on Friday, but I borrowed—”
“Where were you yesterday afternoon, at a quarter past twelve?” asked Mr. Kidswatter.
“Yesterday?” asked Eric. “I was here, at Wayside School. I remember I ate lunch and then I played kickball.”
Mr. Kidswatter smiled. “Do you kick with your left foot?” he asked.
“No, I’m right-footed,” said Eric Fry.
“Hmph!” grumbled Mr. Kidswatter. “Have you ever gotten your hair cut at Charley’s Barber Shop?”
“Yes,” said Eric. “Two weeks ago.”
“Aha!” said Mr. Kidswatter. “So you admit it! Do you know what a Mugworm Griblick is?”
Eric Fry turned pale. “No, please!” he begged. “I didn’t do it! I’m innocent! You’ve got the wrong Eric. There are two other Erics in my class.”
Mr. Kidswatter scowled. “So that’s the way you’re going to play it, is it? Well, that’s fine with me. I’ve got all the time in the world.”
