"The biggest snake at the exhibit was a boa constrictor," Sal babbled on. It seemed to Dudley, who sat with half-open eyes picking at his lunch and listening to the moose girl's account, that she hadn't taken a breath for over five minutes. "Boa constrictors come from South America. A boa constrictor kills and eats small animals by wrapping around them and squeeeezing them to death." Mavis, who had heard Sal's description while walking behind Dudley's back, put her hand over her mouth and fled in disgust from the cafeteria.

"That's very nice, Sal," said Dudley in the least insincere tone he could manage.

"Some boa constrictors are thirteen feet long, and live in trees," Sal went on.

Dudley lay down his fork. "I'm not very hungry," he lied. "Thank you for telling us about the snakes, Sal."

As the rat boy stood up and carried his tray away from the table, Arthur and Adil, who had been sitting on either side of him, bunched closer together. "I wish to know more about the boa constrictors," said Adil in his thick Turkish accent.

Bored and annoyed, Dudley strolled down a hallway until he found George, who was having difficulty extricating his head from his locker. Wrapping his arms around the moose boy, he lifted him up, turned him sideways, and yanked him out.

"Thanks, Dudley," said George. "Every year my antlers get bigger, and I have to be more careful."

"Perhaps you would be kind enough to do a favor for me now," was Dudley's response.

George eyed him curiously.

"Your sister won't leave me alone," Dudley complained. "She follows me everywhere. And all she can talk about is snakes."

"She likes snakes," George informed him. "She knows about fifty different kinds of snakes. You should see her snake drawings."

"When I lived with my mother," Dudley recounted, "I was responsible for keeping snakes out of the garden. Whenever I saw one I clubbed it, and then my mother slit it open and used its guts for potion. When times were hard, we often dined on snake soup."

George shrugged. "Well, not everybody likes snakes."

"I do," said Dudley, licking his lips. "They're quite tasty when they're done just right. But that's not important. George, I wish for you to tell your sister that I don't want a girlfriend."

George chuckled. "Sal's not trying to be your girlfriend. She just likes you because you said she was beautiful."

Dudley thought for a moment, then became crestfallen. "Oh, dear, I've blundered again," he groaned. "I forgot I was a boy when I said that. If a girl had told her she was beautiful, she would have thought nothing of it."

"If you don't want Sal following you around," said George as he reached carefully into his locker for a history book, "I think you should tell her so yourself."

Dudley sighed. "I can't do that. I don't want to hurt her feelings."

"I don't want to hurt her feelings either," replied George.

"What I meant to say was," Dudley clarified, "I don't want to hurt her feelings and have to watch."

----

"Mama," intoned Baby Kate. "Mama, mama, mama."

"Very good," gushed Mrs. Read, who was bouncing the diapered girl on her knee. "You're a little talker."

In another corner of the kitchen sat Pal, beaming with pride. "Congratulations, Kate," he commended her. "Your first grownup word."

Kate looked over at Pal and giggled. "Woof, woof, woof," was all she could hear from the dog.

Pal sighed. "It's going to be lonely here. I can always hang out with the X-Pets, I suppose."

An hour had passed since the end of school. D.W. was playing in her room with Nadine, while in the living room, Arthur had invited Alan, Van, and Muffy, and the four were eagerly anticipating a promised surprise from Francine.

"Hey, Muffy, don't you ever get tired of studying?" Alan asked the girl, who was working out long division problems over a textbook in her lap.

"Seventeen," replied Muffy without looking up.

"I wonder what it'll be like if Muffy doesn't make it to fifth grade," mused Arthur.

"Don't talk that way," Van chided him. "We're all going to fifth grade together, or not at all. Right, Muffy?"

"Thirty-two."

The front door burst open and Francine stood in the doorway, throwing up her arms with dramatic flair. "Ladies and gentlemen," she announced, "I present to you the most singular phenomenon ever to light up the world of jazz, the amazing, the incredible...April 'Caterwaul' Murphy!"

Arthur, Muffy, Van, and Alan watched and listened in astonishment as April marched over the threshold, belting out a rendition of 'Tom Cat Blues' on her tenor saxophone.

Pal laid his paws over his head and howled in agony, while the kids grinned ecstatically and clapped along to April's tune. When she finished playing, Francine led them in a round of applause. "You can't imagine what I had to go through to book her here," she told them.

"Are you sure you're not Sue Ellen?" asked Alan, gazing at the twelve-year-old cat girl's features.

"You can test me for HIV if you want," April offered.

"April has agreed to join our quartet," Francine informed the group.

"It's about time," said Van with a smile.

"What are we waiting for?" said Alan, jumping to his feet. "I'll get my cello. Francine, get your drums."

As Alan hurried through the still-opened door, Muffy closed her math book and rose to follow him. "You guys go ahead and play. I need to study." On her way out, she stopped and examined April's attire with a critical eye. "About that dress..." she began, but ended with, "...oh, never mind."

Arthur watched the monkey girl depart in disbelief. "Wow, she's too busy to even give fashion advice."

"Must be space aliens or something," quipped Francine as she turned to leave. "I'll be right back with my drum kit."

April took a seat with the others as Francine exited. "I can play drums too," she told them, "but you already have a drummer."

Attracted by the noise, D.W. bounded down the stairway and into the living room, where she gasped at the sight of April. "Hotchie motchie!" the little girl exclaimed in wonder.

"You must be D.W.," April greeted her.

"How come you get to grow faster than the rest of us, Sue Ellen?" D.W. demanded to know.

"I'm not Sue Ellen," April insisted.

"Like (bleep) you're not!"

"Dora Winifred!" scolded Mrs. Read from the kitchen.

D.W. had crossed the line this time--her mother had placed Kate on the floor, and was approaching her with a stern expression that could only mean punishment. As she braced herself for what would surely come, the phone rang.

Saved by the bell, thought D.W. as Mrs. Read answered the call.

"April, it's for you."

The cat girl jumped up and took the receiver. "Hello?"

"April! Do you have the time reverser?" It was Augusta's voice.

"No, I left it in the desk," April replied.

"It's not there," said Augusta in a fearful tone. "I can't find it anywhere!"

TBC