Ms. Beard Is Weird!

going to see if they’re any good at mud wrestling!”
    â€œYay!” everybody went except for Andrea, who rolled her eyes and said it looked disgusting.
    The teachers were standing at the edge of the pool wearing bikinis. It was hilarious. Believe me, Mr. Docker does not look good in a bikini.
    â€œWhen I blow my whistle, all the teachers will jump into the pool,” said Ms. Beard. “The first four teachers who climb out will advance to the next round. The others will be eliminated. Is everybody ready?”
    â€œThis is gonna be cool!” I said to Michael.

    â€œWhat are we going to learn from this ?” asked Andrea. “It doesn’t sound very educational to me.”
    â€œOh, that’s where you’re wrong,” said Ms. Beard. “While the teachers are mud wrestling, they also have to recite multiplication tables! On your mark . . . get set . . . GO!”
    Ms. Beard blew her whistle. The teachers jumped into the pool. We all started yelling and screaming.
    As soon as Miss Small landed in the mud, she started to climb out of the pool, but Mr. Macky grabbed her before she reached the edge and threw her into the middle. She was completely covered in mud. Then Mr. Macky tried to climb out of the pool, but Miss Laney grabbed his leg, and he fell face-first into the mud. He made a big splat .
    â€œDon’t forget about your times tables!” shouted Ms. Beard.
    â€œOne times three is three,” yelled Ms. Leakey as she grabbed Ms. Coco and put her in a headlock.
    â€œTwo times three is six,” yelled Mr. Granite as he dived on top of Mrs. Yonkers.
    Mud was flying everywhere ! Every time one of the teachers tried to climb out of the pool, one of the other teachers would pull them back into the mud. It was getting hard to tell who was who, because all the teachers were brown and slimy and slippery.

    â€œThree times three is nine,” yelled Ms. Hannah as she got hit with a mud pie in the face.
    â€œFour times three is twelve,” yelled Miss Laney as she belly flopped into the muck.
    â€œWow, these teachers are great wrestlers!” shouted Ms. Beard. “And they really know their math!”
    Finally, Ms. Leakey and Mr. Macky teamed up to dunk Ms. Coco, and they managed to climb out of the pool together.
    â€œEat mud, you Hot Dog Heads!” shouted Mr. Macky. “The Mooseketeers rule the pool!”
    While they were celebrating, Mr. Granite and Miss Small climbed out of the other end of the pool together. Ms. Beard blew her whistle to signal that the game was over.
    â€œOkay!” she shouted. “The winners are Ms. Leakey and Mr. Macky of the Moosketeers, and Miss Small and Mr. Granite of the Hot Dog Heads. The other teachers are eliminated. Let’s give all our teacher wrestlers a big round of applause!”
    We all cheered and whistled and clapped in a circle. Mr. Docker, Ms. Coco, Miss Laney, Ms. Hannah, and Mrs. Yonkers slowly climbed out of the pool covered from head to toe with yucky mud. They looked like a bunch of chocolate Easter bunnies.

9
We’re Outta Here
    When we got to school the next day, Ms. Beard was all excited. She told us that every night, millions more people were tuning in to watch The Real Teachers of Ella Mentry School on TV. Everybody wanted to see who was going to be the winner.
    â€œThe ratings are through the roof!” she said.
    There were just four teachers left: Mr. Macky and Ms. Leakey of the Mooseketeers, and Miss Small and Mr. Granite of the Hot Dog Heads. After all that singing, dancing, and mud wrestling, they were worn-out, tired, and maybe even a little cranky.
    â€œOkay!” Ms. Beard announced to the camera. “Today our teachers are going to bake cakes. The teacher who bakes the best cake—”
    She didn’t get the chance to finish her sentence.
    â€œThat’s dumb!” yelled Miss Small. “I don’t want to bake a cake.”
    â€œMe neither,” said Mr. Macky.
    â€œI don’t know the first thing about baking a cake,” said Ms. Leakey.
    â€œThis is ridiculous,” said Mr. Granite. “What could baking cakes possibly have to do with education?”

    â€œNothing,” replied Ms. Beard. “But our research shows that people like to watch other people bake cakes on TV.”
    â€œWell, we’re not doing it!” announced Mr. Granite.
    â€œYeah!” said Miss Small. “If I have to bake a