Seeing Miss Ratburn on the other side of the principal's desk was nothing new to Buster, as the rat lady had filled the position during Mr. Haney's absence. "I'm trying to figure something out," she told the boy. "I asked Herbert to help me, but he's unusually tight-lipped, so I thought I'd turn to you."

"Sure, I'll help you," said Buster cockily, "but I charge by the hour."

"It'll only take a few minutes," Rodentia assured him.

"Could you make it a full hour?" said Buster. "I'm not very good at division."

Rodentia leaned forward, her pointy elbows resting on the desk. "How much did you see of the encounter between me and Richard Tulev?" she inquired.

"You mean Scrunchy?" said the rabbit boy. "He didn't look very well. Maybe he's allergic to rats, or something."

"No, I doubt my ethnicity has anything to do with it," said Miss Ratburn.

"Well, then," said Buster with a smirk, "maybe he just doesn't like you."

Please, anything but that, thought Rodentia. "I think there was more to it than simple lack of interest," she mused aloud. "It seemed like a physical reaction."

"Whatever," said Buster. "So why do you need my help?"

"I wondered," replied Rodentia, "if you could find out for me if he has any allergies to certain types of perfume or cosmetics, or if…if…"

"If what?" said Buster restlessly.

"There's one other possibility," said Rodentia, her tone solemn. "Maybe…maybe he suffered a traumatic incident as a child…an incident involving rats."

"Oh," said Buster knowingly. "You mean, like, catching the bubonic plague?"

"Right," said the rat woman. "So, will you do it for me?"

"No way," said Buster, his voice suggesting boredom.

Rodentia pulled open the wide drawer of the principal's desk, lifted out a tin of what appeared to be fudge, and set it down in front of the boy's nose. "Mmm," said Buster, sniffing the confection. "Pastrami praline."

"All the fudge you can eat, for a whole week," Rodentia promised.

"Did I say no way?" said Buster eagerly. "I meant to say yes way. If you make it two weeks, I'll throw in my soul."


"Let's see if I've got this straight," said Alan, addressing Fern behind the wooden-plank fence surrounding the school. "You're an anti-Fern from a parallel universe, and you came here to escape the Yordilian authorities."

"'Anti-Fern' makes me sound like a bad person," said the poodle girl. "Can't you say 'alterna-Fern', or 'Fern 2', or maybe 'Fernfern', instead?"

"If what you say is true, then you shouldn't be here," said Alan sternly. "The paradox of two Ferns occupying the same quantum reality could negate the principle of existence as we know it, wiping out the entire universe in the process."

Fern shrugged. "I haven't studied science fiction, so I wouldn't know."

"You should at least let Professor Frink examine your device," said Alan, his eyes focused on the metal cube in Fern's palm.

"Maybe later," said Fern. "My parents are in danger now. They could face torture, even execution."

"What about your parents in our dimension?" Alan pressed her. "Do they know that you're alive…I mean, that you're here?"

"No," was Fern's reply, "and I'd like to keep it that way. Otherwise, they'll get their hearts broken again when I return to my own dimension permanently."

She's right, thought Alan. Her presence here doesn't change the fact that Fern is gone.

"First things first, though," Fern went on. "The Peace Enforcers are looking for me, and they've got body heat sensors, so I'll need some warm bodies to accompany me when I go to rescue my parents."

"What about Frink?" Alan suggested. "With his high-tech gadgets…"

"Frink would be too conspicuous," said Fern. "Some kids, maybe. Kids wander around Elwood City unsupervised all the time, and nobody bats an eyelash."

"Kids, huh?" said Alan thoughtfully. "I'm a kid. But, aren't you afraid someone would notice that there are two of me?"

"Shouldn't be a problem," said Fern. "Ever since the Yordies took over, the other you almost never leaves his house except to go to school."

Alan gazed wistfully at the sky. It would be an interesting experience…just the thing to get my mind off of Raymond Mansch.

"Is anyone else you know itching for adventure?" Fern asked him. "Arthur? Francine? Floyd Walton?"

"I'll, uh, ask around," said Alan.


Who will sign up for Fern's Excellent Parallel Universe Adventure? Find out in the next chapter! (P.S. Write reviews!)