It was Monday morning, two weeks into fourth grade. Mrs. Stiles looked paler and thinner than she had the previous week, as she lectured the kids during first period.

"Tomorrow we'll continue our look at the French Revolution," she announced. "Are there any questions before we dismiss?"

Binky raised his hand. "Mrs. Stiles, what's a Manichee?"

The teacher was a bit taken aback. "Have you been reading Candide, Binky?"

"I started it," replied the bulldog boy. "Didn't get very far."

"I'm impressed," said Mrs. Stiles. "Most kids don't read Candide until they get to college."

"I know what a Manichee is," said Buster. "It's one of those sea creatures that live off the coast of Florida. I saw some when I was touring with Los Viajeros."

"That's a manatee," said the teacher. "Manichees were members of a religion that existed in the middle ages. They believed that the world was full of evil and suffering."

"Another quick question," said Binky. "What's an auto-da-fe?"

The bell rang before Mrs. Stiles could answer. As the kids left their desks, she motioned to Francine. "Since you came in late, you can give me your essay now."

"You're reading books, Binky?" said Arthur as he met his friend in the hallway.

"Yeah, I am," said Binky gruffly. "You got a problem with that?"

"Uh, no."

Francine ran the fingers of her left hand over her arm cast as she walked toward the girls' room. Inside she encountered the glum-faced Sue Ellen, who spoke to her in an emotionless tone. "What did the X-ray show?"

"The bone's healing faster than they expected," Francine replied. "With luck, I can get the cast off in two weeks."

"I'm happy to hear that," said Sue Ellen, although she clearly wasn't happy at all.

"I'm not mad at you for what happened on Saturday night," Francine tried to console her friend. "I know you're going through tough times, and..."

"Just forget about it."

"Okay," said Francine, surprised at the girl's curtness.

"I don't know if your mom told you," Sue Ellen added, "but Carla's going to leave me at your place tonight."

"What for?"

The cat girl stared bitterly at the tiles on the floor. "She's going to seehim again."

The implication that the matchmaking scheme had succeeded delighted Francine to no end, but she could tell that Sue Ellen didn't share her joy.

Elsewhere, Binky found himself having to run in order to catch up with Van's wheelchair. "That machine of yours is too darn fast," he complained.

"Are you really reading a book about candy?" Van asked him.

"Not candy," Binky corrected the duck boy. "Candide. Although candy's a lot easier to digest."

"I like reading books," said Van. "There's not much else I can do, except play violin. I can't dance, or play sports..."

"Stop doing that," Binky interrupted him.

"Doing what?"

"You always complain about the things you can't do. You're like one of those Manichee

guys, always looking at the bad side of things. Why not talk about the things youcan do?"

"Yeah, I guess I should do that," Van mused. "Hey, I just found a composition for violin and clarinet. Maybe you can come to my place and we can play it together."

"That's a great idea," said Binky. "How about tonight?"

"Okay," said Van. "I'm sure everybody would be glad to meet you."

Meanwhile, Sue Ellen had finished her business in the girls' room and made her way to a corner of the playground, where she hailed two bored-looking, slovenly dressed kids. They were Molly and Rattles—the Tough Customers.

"I thought I'd find you here," she said.


True to his word, Binky took his clarinet and went to visit Van's house after school. The access ramp in front of the doorstep made hollow pounding noises as he walked on it. He rang the doorbell, and Mrs. Cooper greeted him. "You must be Binky. Come in."

Inside, Van and Dallin were watching TV, while Quinn and her father were talking about law at the dinner table. "Binky's here!" exclaimed Van when he noticed the boy's arrival.

"Wow, what a funny-looking kid," Dallin remarked.

After Binky had introduced himself to Quinn and Mr. Cooper, another family member waltzed out of her room to meet him—Odette, the swan girl. To their surprise, they realized that they already knew each other.

"Binky?"

"Odette?"

"You know my sister?" Van marveled.

"Y-your sister?" Binky stammered.

"Binky was in my ballet class," Odette explained. "I lost track of him after he was sent to juvie."

"Uh, yeah," Binky muttered stupidly. "What she said."

"I'd be careful of him if I were you," she warned Van before going into the study.

Binky shook his head in disbelief as he sat down next to Van's chair. "Odette can't be your sister," he claimed. "She's a swan. You're all ducks. What did you do, adopt her?"

"She was born, just like the others," said Mrs. Cooper. "Trust me. I was there."

Then Logan emerged from his room, dressed, as usual, in the latest grunge fashion. "Hey, Logan, this is Binky," Van introduced his friend.

"Hey, dude," said Logan.

"Check it out, dude," said Binky, examining the older boy's garments. "Totally cool threads, dude."

"Thanks, dude," said Logan.

"Did I say that right?" Binky asked him.

"Dude."

"That means yes," Van interpreted.

"So this is your friend Binky Barnes," said Mr. Cooper as he entered from the study.

"Yup," said Van.

"I've heard a lot about you," said the lawyer. "From the sound of it, you held the playground in the grip of terror."

"Yeah," Binky reflected. "Those were my better days."

"Make yourself at home, Binky," said Mr. Cooper. "Just don't clobber anything."

"I found that composition, Binky," said Van.

"Great!" said Binky. "Let's get started."

"Dude, is there, like, a part for electric guitar?" Logan asked.

"Sorry, dude," said Van as he and Binky retired to his bedroom.


At about the same time, Catherine Frensky was lounging on the couch with her nose in a college brochure. Elsewhere in the apartment, Mr. Frensky was practicing his golf swing, while Mrs. Frensky cleaned the kitchen. "Dad," asked Catherine, "do you have any idea how much money English majors make?"

"Well," said her father, "the joke I hear all the time is, "What did the engineering major say to the English major?"

"I don't know, what?"

"Can I super-size that for you?" Mr. Frensky chuckled.

"Maybe I'll just join the army," said Catherine in a resigned tone.

The doorbell rang, and Mrs. Frensky hurried to open it; in the hallway stood Sue Ellen, whose face was still an emotional blank. "Come in," she welcomed the girl.

Francine was idly staring at the ceiling from her bed when Sue Ellen walked into her bedroom. "Still unhappy, I see," she remarked.

Sue Ellen seated herself on Catherine's bed. "So, what do you want to do?"

Francine sat up and pulled a book from the shelf. "Have you read the new book by Beat's mom? It's called 'Bad Dragon, No Damsel'."

"I read it," Sue Ellen told her. "It's boring. Not enough violence."

"How about that Greek mythology paper?" asked Francine. "Have you started yet?"

"No."

"It's due Wednesday."

"I don't care."

This obviously wasn't the Sue Ellen she knew. "It's about your parents, isn't it?"

"Maybe, maybe not."

Francine sighed. "You can do whatever you want. I'll just sit here and read."

Apparently having decided upon TV watching, Sue Ellen wandered into the living room and took a seat next to Catherine. As she flipped channels, a Bill Nye-like science geek appeared on the screen, holding some vials.

"And as we all know, acids and bases neutralize each other..."

"Too educational," grumbled Sue Ellen, changing the channel.

Three crudely-animated little girls with huge eyes and no fingers were on the next channel. "Come on, girls!" shouted their leader. "Let's go kick some..."

"Too empowering," grumbled Sue Ellen, changing the channel.

A narrator guided viewers on a tour of the Taj Mahal on the next channel.

"Been there," grumbled Sue Ellen, changing the channel.

Tourists lined up to kiss the Blarney Stone on another channel.

"Done that," grumbled Sue Ellen, changing the channel.

The next channel featured a hostile confrontation between two cops and a suspect with a pixellated face. "Cool," she said eagerly. "Fighting."

When Catherine saw what Sue Ellen was watching, she said, "That show's off-limits."

"Then don't watch," was Sue Ellen's petulant response.

By this time Francine had floated into the living room, attracted by the sound of flipping channels. Glancing at the screen, she remarked, "This is too violent."

"It's not violent enough," Sue Ellen retorted. "Now shut up, or I'll give you a cast on your left arm to complete the symmetry."


"You da Van!"

"No, you da Van!"

"No, you da Van!"

The conversation between Van and Binky went nowhere, but they enjoyed themselves nonetheless.

"You ought to come over to my place," Binky suggested. "I'm sure my folks would love to meet you."

"Is your house accessible?" Van asked.

"Yeah, it's right next to the street, and there's a big driveway."

"I mean, can I get in with my wheelchair?"

Binky pondered for a moment. "Uh, well, there are steps leading to the door. We don't have a ramp like you have at your house."

It was morning, and Francine and Beat were discussing Sue Ellen's odd behavior while strolling down the hallway toward the girls' room.

"She didn't seem like herself at all," Francine related. "She was so sullen."

Then they entered the washroom, and were treated to an incredible shock. Someone had spray-painted the letters SULN on the mirror in large red letters.

"SULN?" Francine gasped. "Sue Ellen!"

"It's not possible!" exclaimed Beat.

"We'd better tell the principal," Francine recommended.

As the two girls left the washroom, they saw Arthur and Buster standing outside the boys' room. "What's going on?" asked Buster when he saw their looks of concern.

"Someone graffitied the girls' room," Francine told him.

"They got the boys' room too," said Arthur. "Big letters. SULN."

Francine and Beat stared at each other in wonderment.

Then Beat shook her head. "Sue Ellen would never do something like this. Someone must be trying to frame her."

"It's just like the time when somebody wrote Binky Rules all over the place," said Buster.

Francine hurried to the principal's office with Arthur, Buster, and Beat in tow. Upon arrival they received another surprise—Sue Ellen herself was sitting in front of Principal Haney's desk. In front of the principal stood a can of red spray paint.

"Can I help you kids?" asked Mr. Haney.

"She didn't do it!" Beat insisted. "She was framed!"

"That's funny," said the principal. "She just confessed."

Four jaws dropped in unison. Sue Ellen merely smirked at them.

"Why?" demanded Francine.

"Just marking my territory," said Sue Ellen flippantly.

"Three days detention," the principal passed his sentence. "And you'll clean the mirrors in both the girls' and boys' rooms until they shine. Starting at lunch hour today."

"Hurt me, Haney," Sue Ellen mocked him.

"Make that five days," said the principal. "Now get to class before I lose patience with you."

Arthur, Buster, Francine, and Beat watched Sue Ellen in astonishment as she strolled carelessly out of Mr. Haney's office. Staring at them with contempt, she said, "What are you staring at, you doofuses?"

Mrs. Stiles looked worse than ever, with pale skin and bloodshot eyes; she mumbled more than she spoke. "President Lincoln was enjoying an evening at the Ford Theatre when..."

Fern raised her hand. "Mrs. Stiles, I can't hear you very well. Can you please speak up?"

"Yes, Fern." The teacher struggled to speak louder as she taught them about the Lincoln assassination.

All the kids except for Fern left the room after the bell rang. "You look terrible," she told the teacher.

"It's a little more serious this year than in past years," said Mrs. Stiles weakly, "but I'll get over it."

"You should go home and get some rest," Fern insisted.

"Don't worry about me."

But Fern continued to worry about her as she left the classroom.

Meanwhile, Sue Ellen, Molly, and Rattles were conversing at their usual spot at the edge of the playground. "The girls' room AND the boy's room?" Molly marveled. "That must have taken some courage."

"You've definitely earned a place with us," said Rattles with satisfaction.

"Glad to hear it," said Sue Ellen

"Now it's time to go to the next level," said Rattles.

"What's that?"

"This is where your tae kwon do skills come in handy. Here's what you do. When it's time for lunch..."

"Wait a minute. I have to clean the mirrors during lunch."

Molly and Rattles glared at her.

"Or...I could do it some other time. Like never."

It was a pleasant, sunny day, so George decided to enjoy his lunch at one of the picnic tables near the playground. As he unwrapped a Danish pastry, Sue Ellen walked up and waved at him. "Hey, George."

"Oh, hi, Sue Ellen. How are you..."

Without warning, Sue Ellen snatched the pastry from George's hands. "Hey!" the moose boy protested.

Sue Ellen spoke with a condescending tone. "Oh, I'm sorry, were you going to eat this?"

"Yeah, that was the idea."

"Did you see my tae kwon do demonstration last week?"

"Yeah."

"Remember when I broke that brick in half with my hand?"

"Uh-huh."

"Now visualize yourself in place of that brick."

It was one of those occasions where George's vivid imagination proved to be a disadvantage. He started to tremble.

"So long, sucker," said Sue Ellen as she skipped away. Once she was out of sight, she took a bite from the pastry and tossed the rest into a trash can.

She chose Buster as her next target. "Hey, Buster, come here."

"Huh? What is it?"

"I've got something to show you." As Buster walked down the hallway in her direction, she pulled off one of her hairbands.

"Bend down a little," Sue Ellen instructed him as he drew close.

Arthur and Francine were sitting on a bench in the center court when they saw Buster running toward them. "Help! Help!" the rabbit boy cried frantically.

They jumped to their feet when they beheld that Buster's ears had been twisted together and secured in place with Sue Ellen's hairband.

"What the..." Arthur exclaimed. "What happened to you, Buster?"

"What?" his friend yelled. "I can't hear you!"

"You help him," Francine told Arthur. "You have two good hands."

As Arthur attempted to remove the hairband from Buster's ears, the boy whined and squirmed. "Calm down," he urged. "Don't get your ears in a knot."

Once the offending hairband had been loosened, Buster whipped his head around to allow his ears to regain their shape. "Sue Ellen's flipped out!" he warned his friends.

Arthur and Francine didn't even have time to disbelieve that the cat girl would do such a thing, when Sue Ellen herself walked up and grabbed the hairband from Arthur's fingers. "Thanks," she said flatly. "I was looking for that."

"What are you..." Francine began to say.

Ignoring her, Sue Ellen reached out and plucked Arthur's glasses from his face. "You should clean these more often," she said, and proceeded to thoroughly clean both sides of the lenses...with her tongue.

"Ewww!" groaned Arthur.

"Why are you acting like this?" Francine demanded.

Sue Ellen handed Arthur's moistened glasses to him. "If you have a problem with the way I'm acting, you can take it up with my parents. Oh, wait...they're not here! Too bad." Seeing Alan nearby with his hands full, she rushed toward him. "Can I help you carry that dinosaur skeleton?"

"Hey! Let go!"

"I don't believe it!" said Francine angrily. "I know she's had a hard time with her parents being gone and all, but...this is outrageous!"

"It's like she drank some kind of potion that turned her evil," remarked Buster.

Begin Buster fantasy sequence.

Sue Ellen, dressed in a white lab coat, stood in a laboratory surrounded by vials full of chemicals. The vial in her hand bubbled and boiled. "This formula will unlock the dark secrets of my mind, making me the most powerful being on Earth!" she gloated. "All in the interests of science, of course."

She poured the contents of the vial down her throat. Suddenly her eyes bulged out. Her hair stood on end. She opened her mouth and a stream of fire shot out. Finally, she collapsed in a faint. Upon regaining consciousness, she pulled herself up and looked at her reflection in a mirror.

"Nothing happened," she lamented. "Well, I can always sell it as a condiment in New Mexico."

Suddenly she started to giggle. Her giggling turned to laughter. Her laughter became more and more maniacal. Her eyes widened, and blood vessels appeared on their edges. "Puny humans!" she bellowed. "I'll destroy you all!"

End Buster fantasy sequence.

Arthur came up with another theory while wiping his glasses. "Maybe she was traveling in the South Pacific, and a witch doctor put a voodoo curse on her."

Begin Arthur fantasy sequence.

On a South Pacific island, a witch doctor was sprinkling ashes on a voodoo doll that resembled a certain orange-haired girl. Meanwhile, at Lakewood Elementary, Sue Ellen was walking down the hall when she suddenly stopped in her tracks. "Must...do...bad...things..." she droned as her eyes glazed over.

End Arthur fantasy sequence.

Moments later, Arthur, Buster, and Francine met with Mr. Haney to tell him the details of Sue Ellen's mischief. "She's been causing trouble all over the school," the principal related. "I've never seen anything like it. One day she's a model student, the next day she's an unholy terror."

"I think it has something to do with her parents being gone," Francine opinionated.

"It's a possibility," Mr. Haney mused. "Although from what I've heard, Miss Fuente is a very competent nanny. Mr. Ratburn speaks very highly of her."

Arthur, Buster, and Francine exchanged knowing smiles.

"Perhaps a long-distance call to Indonesia would be in order," said the principal.


"Mom, I'm home," mumbled Binky as he arrived at his house after school.

"Help yourself to some cookies, Binky Winkums," Mrs. Barnes welcomed him.

"I'm not hungry," said Binky, sitting next to his mother on the couch. "This has been the weirdest school day ever."

"What happened?"

"First, somebody wrote graffiti on the mirrors in the boys' and girls' rooms."

"Was it one of the Tough Customers?" asked Mrs. Barnes.

"No." Binky took a breath. "Believe it or not, it was Sue Ellen."

"I don't believe it," said his mother. "She's such a nice girl."

"Not anymore," said Binky fearfully. "She's gone totally bonkers. She's terrorizing the school, just like I did before. Do you know what she did to me? She told me to stand real still, then she untied my shoelaces and tied them together! I almost tripped and fell on my face!"

"Couldn't you have stopped her?"

"And get karate-chopped into next week? Mom, she can break bricks with her bare hands!"

"Does the principal know about this?" Mrs. Barnes wondered.

"Yeah," Binky answered. "But what's he gonna do? Detention? Suspension? If I were him, I'd just drop her in a crate and ship her to her parents."

Binky's mother started to chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

Oh, I was just thinking. Last year all the kids were afraid of you, and now..."

"Let's change the subject," said Binky hurriedly. "Is Dad around? I wanna use his power tools to build something."


Mrs. Stiles appeared quite ill on Wednesday morning, and seemed to grow progressively sicker as the day passed. "I'll now come around and pick up your reports on Greek mythology," she mumbled, then started to shuffle from one desk to another.

When she reached Sue Ellen's desk she stopped. "This is a blank sheet of paper with your name on it," she observed. "I can't accept this."

Sue Ellen grinned smugly. "You asked me to write a report on a Greek myth, Mrs. Stiles. I decided to take the logical next step. My report isn't about a myth, it IS a myth. It doesn't exist."

The teacher seemed to lack the strength to argue, but she managed to say, "Bring me a real report tomorrow, and I'll give you half credit."

As the final bell was about to ring, she informed the class, "Tomorrow I'll talk about some of the Greek philosophers, like Plato. And I don't mean the stuff that comes in the little cans."

As had become customary, all the kids except for Fern hurried out at the end of class. The poodle girl watched with concern as Mrs. Stiles sat down at her desk and moaned.

"What's wrong with you?" she demanded. "You look worse every day!"

"I'll be all right, Fern," the polar bear woman insisted. "Now run along."

"Not this time," said Fern doggedly. "You're sick. You need help. I'm not leaving this room until you promise me you'll get it."

A long moment passed between them as Mrs. Stiles gazed into Fern's pleading eyes.

"I can't say no to those puppy-dog eyes," she relented.

"Come on," Fern offered. "I'll walk you to your car."


After school, Arthur welcomed Buster, Francine, Muffy, Alan, and Beat into his house. Together they deliberated about how to deal with the Sue Ellen menace.

"What we need is an anti-Sue Ellen device," Arthur proposed.

Alan groaned. "Here we go again."

"Why isn't Binky here?" Muffy wondered. "He's the biggest and strongest."

"He said he had to build something," said Arthur.

"Maybe he's building an anti-Sue Ellen robot," suggested Buster.

Begin Buster fantasy sequence.

A large robot with spinning radar dishes on its head followed Buster as he walked down the school hallway. Suddenly the robot stopped in its tracks.

"Danger, Buster Baxter! Danger!" it warned.

Frightened, Buster yanked open a door in the robot's chest and concealed himself inside as Sue Ellen walked past with a menacing scowl on her face.

End Buster fantasy sequence.

"There's only one logical solution to this problem," Alan stated. "One of us must train to become a master of martial arts."

"Hmm," mused Muffy.

Begin Muffy fantasy sequence.

In a far-off monastery Muffy, dressed in Buddhist robes, and an aged Kung Fu master bowed to each other. "You have learned well, grasshopper," said the master, "but you must face one more test before you leave."

The master opened his palm, on which was laid a coin. "Remove the coin from my hand, and you will be free to go," he challenged Muffy.

In the blink of an eye, before the master knew what had happened, both the coin and Muffy were gone.

End Muffy fantasy sequence.

"But that would require years of training," Beat remarked.

"I might stand a chance against her, if I had the use of both arms," said Francine.

"Arthur, tell me about the night when Sue Ellen blew up at Mr. Ratburn," Beat requested.

"Well, Carla and Ratburn were talking," Arthur recounted, "and Ratburn talked about how he had told Sue Ellen's parents to leave her here, so that she could get good grades and develop socially. Something like that. And then Sue Ellen lost it."

"Why don't we just ship her to Indonesia, if she wants to be there so badly?" Muffy suggested.

"Yeah," said Arthur. "Staying here sure isn't helping her development."

When she heard Arthur's words, Beat developed an idea in her mind.


On Thursday morning, Alan approached the entrance to room 18 and saw a sign on the door. "Mrs. Stiles is sick today," he read. "Please go to room 22."

Then it struck him. Room 22 was Rodentia's classroom...

Horror gripped his brain as Bernard Herrmann's shower music from "Psycho" played in the background.

He recovered from the shock in time to see Fern walking up to him. "Would you mind feeling my forehead?" he asked her. "I think I may have a fever."

Fern laid a hand on Alan's forehead. "You feel fine to me."

"Darn," the boy grumbled.

Fern read the notice on the door as Alan walked away. I hope she's all right, she thought.

Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed that Rodentia Ratburn was entering the principal's office. Thinking she might learn about Mrs. Stiles' condition by listening in, she strolled quietly over to the office and lurked outside the door. Inside, Mr. Haney and Rodentia were having a serious conversation.

"She told me that the children shouldn't be made aware of her condition or whereabouts," said Rodentia. "Especially Fern Walters. Apparently the two of them were very close."

Fern's heart began to pound anxiously.

"How long will she be in the clinic?" asked Mr. Haney.

"Could be weeks, could be months. Depends on how long it takes to overcome her dependency on the drugs."

Drugs...?

"I hope her recovery goes well," said the principal. "But either way, I'm afraid she won't teach at this school again."

The sensation was not unlike a ton of bricks landing on top of Fern's head.

"A pity," lamented Rodentia. "She was doing well. If you'll excuse me now, I have a class to teach."

She desperately wanted to know more, but Fern couldn't take the chance of being discovered by Rodentia. She quickly turned to escape.

And saw Mr. Ratburn towering over her, hands on hips.

"Well, well," the rat man scolded her. "A spy." As his sister emerged from the principal's office, he said, "I trust you've met Fern."

"How much did she hear?" asked Rodentia, startled at having been overheard by a student.

"I heard you talking about Mrs. Stiles," Fern admitted nervously. "You said she's on drugs, and she won't teach here anymore."

"Come into the office," Rodentia invited her, although it sounded more like a command.

Once Fern had seated herself next to Rodentia, the rat woman warned her, "You mustn't tell the other children what you've heard."

"What kind of drugs?" asked Fern.

Mr. Haney spoke up. "All you need to know is that Mrs. Stiles has gone to a place where she can get help. She'll be all right."

Fern's tone became insistent. "What kind of drugs?" she repeated.

"Nigel, close the door," said the principal, and Mr. Ratburn did so after stepping into the office.

"Fern, do you know what benzodiazepines are?" asked Rodentia.

"No."

"They're a kind of prescription drug. They're used to treat anxiety, but improper use can lead to dependency, and sometimes serious illness. That's what happened to Mrs. Stiles."

"Where is she?" asked the worried Fern.

"In a place where she can get the help she needs," answered Mr. Haney.

"I know she's in a clinic somewhere," said Fern with determination. "If you won't tell me where she is, I'll find her myself."

The principal glanced over at Mr. Ratburn. "I wouldn't put it past her," said the teacher.

"Don't worry your little head over Mrs. Stiles," said Mr. Haney patronizingly. "She'll be

fine."

"Let's go, Fern," said Rodentia sweetly. "It's time for class."

In room 22, the kids from Mrs. Stiles' class were mixed with Rodentia's pupils, giving Francine a chance to catch up on old times with Jenna.

"How do you like Rodentia's class?" Francine asked her.

"We're having a great time," said Jenna. "Yesterday we learned how to say 'good morning' in eight different languages. What do you think of Mrs. Stiles?"

"She's sick today, but when she's not sick, she's usually babbling about French philosophers and Greek mythology."

"What about, er, you-know-who? Any idea why the sudden change?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Rodentia called the class to order in her usual sugary voice. "Today we have some special visitors-the kids from Mrs. Stiles' class. They're here because Mrs. Stiles isn't feeling well. Now, kids, what do you do when you're not feeling well?"

"Don't...tempt...me..." mumbled the nauseous-looking Alan.

"Oh, I know! I know!" said Buster. "Bed rest and lots of fluids!"

"Very good," said Rodentia. "What else?"

Jenna raised her hand. "Uh, take some cold medicine?"

"That's right." Sue Ellen put up her hand. "Over there, with the hair puffs."

"Boooorrrriiiing," the cat girl grumbled.

"Please don't disrupt the class," said Rodentia, straining to smile.

"Class?" said Sue Ellen with mock surprise. "I thought we were taping a kid's show."

It was the longest lesson ever.

"For next Monday," said Rodentia, "I would like you all to write a two-page essay entitled, 'If I Were a Superhero'. I'll be grading on spelling, punctuation, and above all, cool superpowers."

Even the ringing of the bell seemed to last five minutes. The relieved students hurried out of the classroom, anxious for a respite from the brain-melting tedium that was Rodentia Ratburn.

"I think my IQ just went down five points," Alan remarked to Binky. "Ask me some tough math questions, quick."

"I never really appreciated Mrs. Stiles until now," said Binky. "'If I Were a Superhero'? How hard can that be?"

"I have an easier time imagining myself as a supervillain," Alan admitted.

The grim-faced Sue Ellen marched through the center court, and fear came upon all who looked upon her—except for Beat, who was secretly tailing her.

She walked by Van, who turned in his wheelchair to follow her. "Why are you being so mean?" the duck boy asked.

"What's it to you?" said Sue Ellen gruffly.

"I think you're just rebelling because your parents are gone. There are worse things than being parentless for a while. I mean, look at me. I can't walk. Ever. Do you hear me whining about it?"

"All the time!" the girl snapped.

Van slowed down and watched as Sue Ellen walked ahead. "Bad example," he thought to himself.

With Beat in hidden pursuit, Sue Ellen made her way to the spot on the playground where she routinely met with Molly and Rattles. Both bullies were present.

"You're putting us all to shame," Molly chided the newest Tough Customer.

"We never dreamed of causing trouble on such a scale," Rattles remarked. "We may have to make you our leader."

"I'll consider it," said Sue Ellen cockily.

"No, you won't," said Beat, making herself visible to them. "It's time to put a stop to this nonsense."

Surprised at the British girl's boldness, the three toughs were momentarily taken aback.

Then Sue Ellen stepped forward and glowered at Beat. "Who's gonna stop me? You?"

"That's right," said Beat fearlessly.

"You name the time and place," said the cat girl menacingly.

"Tomorrow. First recess. Right here."

"You're on, sister," said Sue Ellen. "And don't expect me to go easy on you."

As Beat marched away, Rattles gave Sue Ellen a high-five. "This is just like the old days when we actually fought people," he enthused.

"She must have a death wish," Molly remarked. "She knows you're invincible."

Rumors of the impending battle spread quickly through the school, and many expressed hopes that Beat would find a way to put Sue Ellen in her place. During lunch, Arthur, Buster, Muffy, and Binky were discussing the situation.

"So, Binky, what's this top-secret thing you're building?" Arthur asked.

"I can't tell you," replied Binky. "It's top-secret."

"It's some kind of anti-Sue Ellen weapon, isn't it?" Buster imagined.

"No, it's something for Van," Binky told him. "And I finished it this morning."

"Mind if I join?" asked Beat, who stood near the table with her lunch tray.

The others gazed at her in awe as she sat down.

"Is it true?" asked Arthur. "Did you really challenge Sue Ellen to a fight?"

"It's true," Beat confirmed.

"Are you crazy?" Muffy protested. "She'll grind you into porridge!"

Beat spoke with an unconcerned tone. "I think I know what I'm doing."

"You don't have any special powers that we're not aware of, do you?" Buster inquired of her.

"I can call spirits from the vasty deep," said Beat mysteriously.

"Huh?"

"Shakespeare, you silly goose."

While they chatted, Sue Ellen approached their table. "By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes," said Muffy.

"Hi, Beat," said the cat girl with an icy glare.

"You're suddenly being friendly," Beat remarked.

Sue Ellen didn't mince words. "You know you don't have a chance. Spare yourself the humiliation and back out now."

"As they say in Spain," quipped Beat, "no way, Jose."

"It's your funeral." Sue Ellen whirled on her heel and strode away.

"I can see the fear in her eyes," Beat said quietly to the others.

"I didn't see any fear," said Buster.


After school, Van met Binky in front of the Barnes house. "You're really gonna love this," Binky told his friend. "Now close your eyes and keep them closed until I tell you to open them."

"Closing eyes...now," said Van.

A few moments passed, and Van heard some bumping and scraping.

"Open your eyes," Binky instructed him.

Van did so, and beheld a wonderful sight. The steps leading to the front door of Binky's house had been overlaid with a wooden access ramp. The duck boy smiled broadly.

"What are you waiting for?" asked Binky as he walked up and down the ramp. "It supports my weight. It'll support you and your chair."

Too excited and grateful to speak, Van drifted into a fantasy sequence. Before his eyes, Binky was transfigured into a white-haired Moses, waving his staff over the Red Sea and shouting, "LET MY PEOPLE GO!"

Gaining courage, he piloted his wheelchair up the ramp and into Binky's house.

"This is great!" he gushed. "It was so kind of you! If I could get out of my chair, I would hug you!"

"Remember what I told you," said Binky. "Think about the things you can do, not the things you can't."


The fateful hour arrived. Molly, Rattles, and the other Tough Customers stood on one side of the sandy arena, while Beat's friends and classmates stood on the other. Naturally, not one of them thought to contact the principal and stop the fight from taking place.

Francine was the first to see Beat approaching from the school building. "Here she comes!"

"You don't know what she'll do to you," Arthur warned Beat as she drew nearer. "Don't go through with it."

"I can't turn back now," said the rabbit-aardvark girl with resolve.

While Beat's friends either gave her moral support or tried to dissuade her, Sue Ellen appeared out of nowhere, barefoot and clad in a tae kwon do robe.

"Sue! Sue! Sue!" chanted the Tough Customers.

"Run for your life while you still can!" Muffy urged Beat.

"Oh, ye of little faith," was Beat's response.

In a moment, Beat and Sue Ellen faced each other. No one dared stand between them. No one dared make a sound.

"It's not too late to back out," said Sue Ellen threateningly.

Beat spoke loudly and clearly so that all the surrounding children could easily hear. "I know why you're behaving like this. It's all a charade."

"What do you mean?"

"Your parents left you here because they felt it would be good for your social development," Beat clarified. "You're trying to change their minds by pretending that your development is going in the wrong direction. You're no bully. It's just an act."

Beat's words elicited confused whispers among her friends and the Tough Customers. Sue Ellen stood motionless and steely-eyed, as if waiting for her foe to make a move.

"You are too a bully," Molly called to her. "Show her. Beat her up."

"You don't have it in you to hurt me," Beat claimed. "That's why you kept asking me to back out."

Seconds went by. The fire in Sue Ellen's eyes slowly burned out. Tears formed.

She sank to her knees and started to cry.

Loud groans swept through the Tough Customer mob.

"Man, what a wuss," Rattles complained. "I can't believe we were about to make her our leader."

"We?" said Molly.

"Why do you have to be so doggone smart, Beat?" Sue Ellen sobbed. "If not for you, it would've worked."

"Just doing my job as a friend," said Beat.

A cry went up from among the Tough Customers. "It's the principal, man!"

The crowd dispersed in all directions as Mr. Haney approached, clutching a lollipop in the fingers of one hand. He paid no heed to the kids who had thronged to witness the fight. Instead, his attention was focused on the weeping cat girl.

"Miss Armstrong, I'd like to have a word with you in my office."

Her tears started to dry as she made the walk to the principal's office. She was certain she would receive another punishment to add to her long list. However, when she arrived, she beheld a sight that shocked and amazed her.

Standing before her, wearing an Indonesian batik dress, was her mother.

"M-m-mom?"

"I flew 10,000 miles to hear your explanation," said Mrs. Armstrong sternly. "It had better be good."

"Where's Dad?" Sue Ellen asked.

"He's still in Jakarta."

Mr. Haney cleared his throat. "I'll leave the two of you alone," he offered, and quickly stepped out of the office.

Then Mrs. Armstrong sat down, and her daughter sat across from her.

"It was all a stupid idea I came up with," Sue Ellen admitted. "I thought I could change your minds about leaving me here by pretending to be bad. But Beat was too smart for me. She figured it out."

Mrs. Armstrong stared, as if expecting a torrent of either apologies or excuses.

"Why didn't you take me with you?" Sue Ellen demanded tearfully. "Why did you listen to that awful Mr. Ratburn?"

"Mr. Ratburn isn't awful," Mrs. Armstrong replied. "He's a very good teacher. He knows more about education than your father and I will ever know."

"But I miss you," the little girl mourned.

"We miss you too. It wasn't easy for us to leave you with Carla, but we felt it was the right thing to do. You see, up to now your father and I have been the only constants in your life. You've been uprooted again and again. You've never had a chance to stay in one place long enough to adjust to one culture, or make lasting friendships. That's not good for you. Your father can do it, but only because he knows so much about different cultures that he can blend in wherever he goes."

Sue Ellen didn't reply, but seemed to fall into deep thought.

"We're having dinner tonight at the Quetzalcoatl Inn with Carla and Mr. Ratburn," Mrs. Armstrong went on. "You'll get another chance to see what a great person Nigel is."

"I don't want to go," Sue Ellen grumbled.

"It's either that or sit at home and do nothing. You're grounded, after all."

The cat girl stared at the floor for a second, then let out an almost inaudible "okay".

"Great," said Mrs. Armstrong. "We'll talk more then. Now go to your class, and don't get into any more trouble, all right?"

"Okay." Sue Ellen managed a weak smile.

Arthur and Buster saw the pair as they emerged from Mr. Haney's office. "Look! It's Mrs. Armstrong!" Buster exclaimed.

"You flew all the way here?" Arthur marveled.

"Yes, I did," the cat woman replied. "But that's what I do-fly all over the world, putting out brush fires."

"Is Sue Ellen all right now?" Buster inquired.

"Of course she is. She won't trouble you any longer."

"What was wrong with her?"

"Oh, nothing. Just a minor case of alien possession."

"Aliens," mused Buster as he watched Mrs. Armstrong walk away. "I knew it all along."

"Why do ALL the grownups have to encourage him?" thought Arthur as he and Buster followed the sad-faced Sue Ellen to Rodentia's classroom.

TBC