When school let out, the irrepressible Belnap girls requested permission to visit the boys they had chosen at their places of residence. The boys found it difficult to resist such friendly and attractive girls, and were swept along for the ride. Amy followed Buster to the condo where he lived with his mother and stepfather, Becky accompanied George and Salma to their house, and Cally rode the limo with Mickie and the pom boy Zeke, who was staying with the Chanels as a foster child.
"I like your ears," said Amy as she and Buster walked down the hall of the condominium complex. "You must have very good hearing."
"No better than any other rabbit," Buster replied.
When they reached the door, neither of them had trouble picking out the sound of a puppy's excited barking. A little yellow dog greeted them with yaps and licks as they entered.
"This is Amazon Puppy," Buster introduced his pet.
"She's so cute," Amy gushed, bending down and stroking the puppy's fur. "But why did you name her after a web site?"
"I named her after Amazon Bunny," Buster told her.
"Who's that?"
Amy's display of ignorance didn't trouble Buster, since Bunny League was generally considered to be a boy's cartoon.
"She's a superhero," he explained. "She comes from an island where there are no men."
"No men?" said Amy, looking somewhat startled. "It must be an awful place."
Meanwhile, on a nearby sidewalk, George's unease was growing with each flattering compliment Becky rained on him.
"You have the cutest little antlers," she said sweetly. "If I had antlers, I would paint them rainbow colors and hang bracelets on them."
George's third-grade sister Sal took full advantage of the opportunity. "George has a girlfriend, George has a girlfriend..." she chanted.
Noticing the moose boy's nervous expression, Becky asked, "What's the matter? Don't you like girls?"
"He only likes boys," Sal chimed in.
"Shut...up...Salma," George growled.
The third Belnap triplet, Cally, enjoyed the hospitality of the Chanels in the mansion that had once belonged to Muffy's family.
"Who do we have here?" inquired Mrs. Chanel when she saw Zeke enter with the cat girl.
"This is Cally," the pom boy replied. "She's a new girl in my class. I think she likes me."
"How lovely," said the rich aardvark woman. "I'll ask Nestor to get her something to eat."
As she hurried away to fetch her Spaniard servant, Cally began to wander around. "You've got a big house," she observed.
"Yeah," said Zeke bashfully, "but it's not mine."
"Where do you live?" Cally asked him.
"My real parents live in a small house with a garden."
He followed Cally as she toured the lavish mansion, impressed with the sights but apparently not overwhelmed.
"I'd rather live in a big house like this one," she remarked. "Wouldn't you?"
"No," said Zeke flatly. "I want to go back and live with my mom and dad."
Cally turned and grinned at him. "You sound lonely."
"I am lonely," he admitted sheepishly.
Without a word of warning, Cally leaned forward and planted a kiss on Zeke's fuzzy cheek. The pom boy backed away, astonished.
"I'm sorry," said the cat girl. "Did I frighten you?"
"M-my parents say I can't have a girlfriend until I'm sixteen," Zeke told her.
----
"Maybe I didn't care about winning before," said Arthur with determination, "but I care now. Mickie Chanel is going down."
Joining the angry young aardvark in his living room were his campaign manager, Beat Simon, and his sister D.W. Kate tried vainly to attract their attention by performing somersaults and standing on her head, all the time babbling, "Look, Arfur," and, "Look, Deeduboo."
Beat reported the results of her informal survey. "Seventy-six percent of respondents chose 'hysterical laughter'. Of the rest, seven percent chose 'indifferent', eight percent chose 'more likely to vote for Arthur Read', and nine percent chose 'less likely to vote for Arthur Read'. The last nine percent were all girls."
"Go, Arthur, go!" chanted D.W., pumping her fists.
"Cut that out, D.W.," Arthur complained.
"Fine," his sister grumbled. "I'll just sit here and be useless."
"As of yet, Mickie hasn't put up any posters promoting herself," said Beat analytically. "That's not surprising, since a girl in her position can afford other, more extravagant forms of..."
A blaring voice from a loudspeaker on the street interrupted them. Unable to hear it clearly, the three kids ran to the window for a better listening perspective.
A limousine with speakers attached to the top was crawling down the street. The passenger side was facing them, revealing that Mickie herself was in the vehicle, talking into a microphone. "Mickie Chanel for Lakewood student body president," she intoned, and her voice was magnified and broadcast throughout the neighborhood. "Remember that name. Mickie Chanel. Someday you'll see it in lights. Hi, Arthur. Mickie Chanel for Lakewood student body president..."
"As I was saying," continued Beat as she and the others stepped away from the window, "a girl in Mickie's position can afford extravagant forms of publicity."
"And this is only the first day of campaigning," Arthur reflected. "What other tricks does she have up her sleeve?"
In a fantasy sequence, he imagined that he was aroused from slumber by a bright light from his bedroom window. Opening the blinds, he discovered that a new celestial object had appeared in the night sky--an enormous glowing orb resembling Mickie's head, complete with orange braids.
He had to notify the rest of the family at once. "Mom! Dad!" he cried as he burst from his room.
No answer came. A light was flickering in the living room, so he bounded down the stairs. His parents, D.W., and Kate were staring at the TV screen, their eyes glazed.
An eerie girl's voice emanated from the television. "You will vote for Mickie Chanel," it droned.
"We will vote for Mickie Chanel," repeated D.W. and her parents.
"Weewee boat for meemee michelle," Kate gurgled.
Beat waved a hand in front of Arthur's face, snapping the boy from his reverie.
"It's obvious we can't outdo Mickie in the publicity arena," she counseled. "So we'll have to run an issues-based campaign. I suggest you challenge her to a debate."
"A debate? What's that?"
"A debate is like an argument. You've argued with your sister before, right?"
"Okay, now I'm following you."
"Go, Arthur, go!" D.W. cheered.
As they took seats on the couch again, Beat outlined her plan. "A debate is basically an argument to decide who's the better person for the job. In your case, the goal is to convince the audience that your reason for running is to make the lives of the students better by improving the school, while Mickie's reason for running is that she has an ego the size of Neptune."
Arthur nodded. "I think I can do that."
----
to be continued