Hypnotic Dunces

By Kate Jaimet

Follow the pranks and pratfalls of four madcap middle-graders in this third book in the acclaimed Dunces Anonymous series.When their arch-nemesis Stacey Hogarth threatens to take over the Drama Club, the Dunces — Josh, Magnolia, Wang and Wilmot — conspire to defeat her with the power of the Magnificent Marvello’s Hypnotic Medallion. But their plans go awry when Wang accidentally hypnotizes Wilmot’s grandfather into thinking he’s 12 years old. Can the Dunces solve their problems on a Junior Survival Weekend with Josh’s long-lost dad? Or will Stacey triumph at last? Laugh along to our heroes’ sidesplitting schemes in the latest Dunces adventure!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Jaimet
• Release date: Jan 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370176588

Kate Jaimet

Kate Jaimet spent 13 years as a daily news reporter before turning to fiction and freelance writing. Her Canadian bestseller Dunces Anonymous and its sequels Dunces Rock and Hypnotic Dunces have been nominated for many awards, and continue to delight children in Canada and abroad. Kate enjoys yoga, clever repartee, and eating pie for breakfast.

Book preview

Hypnotic Dunces

Kate Jaimet

Smashwords Edition

also in this series:

Dunces Anonymous

Dunces Rock

Copyright Kate Jaimet

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 1978040407

ISBN 13: 9781978040403

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: The Workertown Widget Welders

Chapter 2: The Magnificent Marvello’s Hypnotic Medallion

Chapter 3: Junior Survivors Club

Chapter 4: Hypnotizing Garland

Chapter 5: Good Gravy, Little Davey!

Chapter 6: Telling the Truth

Chapter 7: Good Old Raisins and Peanuts

Chapter 8: Date with a Fish

Chapter 9: Playing Hooky

Chapter 10: Billy the Bulldog

Chapter 11: Rehearsing Hamlet

Chapter 12: Happy Gardens Nursing Home

Chapter 13: Junior Survival Weekend

Chapter 14: secretgeek42

Chapter 15: The Fair Ophelia

Chapter 16: The Cry of the Loon

Chapter 17: The Race to the Finish

Chapter 18: The Show Must Go On

Epilogue

About the Author

Other Books in the Dunces Series

Chapter One

The Workertown Widget Welders

There was something fishy about Stacey Hogarth joining the Drama Club.

Stacey had never shown even the teeniest, tiniest bit of interest Drama. Yet there she was, sitting cross-legged in front of Magnolia on the worn-down carpet of the Drama room floor, casually brushing her long, brown hair.

What’s Stacey doing at Drama Club?

Magnolia nudged her friend Hannah Heidemann. Hannah was lying on her stomach, drawing a sparkly-eyed unicorn on the map of North America that was supposed to be her geography homework.

Dunno, Hannah shrugged.

Strange, said Magnolia. Very strange.

Magnolia looked around the room, searching for further clues to Stacey’s suspicious presence.

At one end of the room, Madame Karloff’s high director’s chair and matching side-table sat in front of a black curtain, which served as the backdrop to the performance of dramatic scenes. At the opposite end of the room, a door led to the school hallway. Between those two points, the normal members of the Drama Club were scattered around, waiting for Madame Karloff to appear and start the meeting. Well, ‘normal’ wasn’t quite an accurate description, Magnolia admitted, as she scanned the motley crew of theatrical wanna-bes.

Wilmot was leaning against a wall, wearing a retro-rock t-shirt and a black tuque, practicing chord changes on his guitar. In the centre of the room, Wang was balancing on his head, his legs flailing in the air while shades of purple flashed across his face. Hannah, who had finished the unicorn, was drawing curlicues in the centre of Lake Michigan. Beside her, Emmett Blackwell, dressed in a blue velour jumpsuit, was crouching up and down while snorting ‘hanph, hanph,’ as he performed his breathing exercises.

In other words, it looked like a pretty typical Drama Club meeting.

Which was a very odd place for Stacey Hogarth.

"What’s she doing here?" Magnolia insisted.

She probably saw me on TV, Emmett said. Girls always worship TV stars. Hanph! Hanph!

Get over yourself, Emmett.

Magnolia rolled her eyes.

It was only a donut commercial.

I loved that commercial!

Hannah tore herself from her drawing and cast a worshipful gaze at Emmett.

That part where your dad’s leaving for the war, and you share your last donut together? It’s so emotional! I don’t know how you bit into it without getting Boston cream filling all over your face! That would have totally happened to me.

It takes years of theatrical training, Emmett said. Hanph! Hanph!

Give me a break! Magnolia groaned.

Before Emmett’s ego could grow any bigger, the door opened and Madame Karloff swept in. She was dressed stylishly in high-heeled, faux-leopard-skin boots, a leopard-print mini-dress, black tights and a gold scarf. But beneath her makeup, her face was clouded by a secret sorrow.

"Mes chéris! sighed Madame Karloff. I have good news and I have bad news!"

She swooped dramatically into the director’s chair, and continued:

"The good news is that the Director of the National Theatre School has invited us to perform at a special, one-day Drama Showcase. Mes chéris, the Director is scouting talent for the School’s Young Company, and this may be your chance to win an invitation to her prestigious Summer Theatre Academy!"

The Summer Theatre Academy! Magnolia’s spine tingled.

Wilmot missed the chord change on his guitar.

Wang tumbled from his head and landed in a heap of gangly limbs on the carpet.

Hannah grabbed her lunch bag and breathed into it, to stop herself from hyperventilating.

Emmett pulled out his pocket mirror and checked his face for zits.

Only Stacey remained nonchalant, as she continued to brush her long, brown hair. ‘Nonchalant’ was a word that Madame Karloff had taught them during her short time as a French teacher. It meant ‘calm in the face of great excitement.’ But why was Stacey calm in the face of this great excitement? Magnolia wondered. It was almost as though she had known about it all along.

"Mes chéris! Mes chéris!" Madame Karloff waved her hand for attention.

"I said that I had good news and bad news. The bad news is: since the Parent Council is paying for the cost of the production, they have insisted upon choosing the play. Mes chéris! I begged them, I implored them, to let us stage a selection of scenes from Hamlet. Not only is it the greatest play ever written, but, since you are studying it in English class, it would be easy for you to learn the lines on short notice. But hélas! The Parent Council has decided that we will be performing this instead."

Madame Karloff reached into her faux-leopard-fur purse and drew out a script. She held it by the stapled corner, pinched gingerly between her thumb and forefinger, as though it were a rotting banana-peel.

This -- I regret to tell you -- is a politically relevant work of contemporary social realism.

"A what?" Hannah whispered.

Magnolia shrugged. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound like Shakespeare.

"Mes chéris! Sometimes actors must suffer for the sake of their Art! I have read this script, and I must tell you: prepare to suffer! But c’est la vie! Le show must go on! And now — oh, Mrs. Hogarth, there you are! Please, come in!"

Madame Karloff broke off and Magnolia turned to look at the classroom door, where Stacey’s mother stood, dressed in high heels and a navy-blue business suit. She was holding a clipboard, a pile of scripts, and a suit-bag draped over one arm.

As you may know, Mrs. Hogarth is the head of the Parent Council, Madame Karloff said as Stacey’s mom picked her way through the kids toward the front of the room.

"And I am delighted to let her tell you all about the Council’s choice of script. Madame Hogarth, s’il vous plait!"

Dismounting from her director’s chair, Madame Karloff released her thumb and forefinger and dropped the script on to the table, as though she were dropping the banana peel into a garbage bin. Stacey’s mother set her pile of scripts on the table and hung the suit-bag on the back of the director’s chair.

Good afternoon, boys and girls, she said in a business-like tone.

She paused, as though waiting for the kids to chant: Good afternoon, Mrs. Hogarth. When no one said anything, she flashed them a brisk smile and continued.

On behalf of the Parent’s Council, I’m very proud that you’ll be performing in the Drama Showcase. This is an important opportunity for some of you to win a spot in the prestigious Summer Theatre Academy.

She paused and threw a significant glance at her daughter Stacey.

You’ll be pleased to know that the Parent Council has chosen a challenging one-act play that we’re sure will make a strong impression! she continued. "It’s a politically relevant work of contemporary social realism called The Workertown Widget Welders."

"The what?" Hannah whispered.

Who cares? It’s a setup! Magnolia hissed back. Don’t you get it? Stacey’s mom rigged the whole thing!

The play, Stacey’s mom continued, is about a crusading lawyer who courageously fights to improve the working conditions at a local widget factory.

She turned to her daughter. Stacey, I think you would be brilliant in the role of the lawyer.

Okay, Stacey said. She gave a nonchalant toss of her long, brown hair.

I knew it! Magnolia burst out.

Hey, that’s not fair! Hannah protested. Don’t we have auditions?

I’m afraid we don’t have time for auditions, Stacey’s mom said. The Parent Council is paying for the cost of production, and it’s our prerogative to run this production as efficiently as possible.

What’s a prerogative? said Hannah.

Is that like a pierogi? said Wang.

I’m kinda hungry, said Wilmot.

Settle down, children.

Stacey’s mother rapped on the table.

We need to get this casting done. Now, who wants to play a widget welder?

Oh! Oh! Wang stuck his hand in the air. Can I be a swordfighter?

Unfortunately, there are no swordfighters. What’s your name?

Wang.

Well, Wang, there are no swordfighters. This is a tale of social justice in small-town North America. You can be the evil corporate lawyer.

I don’t want to be a corporate lawyer.

The pen is mightier than the sword, Wang!

Wang jabbed himself with a ballpoint pen.

No, it’s not, he said.

Stacey’s mother ignored him and jotted his name down on her clipboard.

Emmett’s hand shot up.

I’ll play the handsome romantic lead.

There is no handsome romantic lead. What’s your name?

Emmett Blackwell. I always play the handsome romantic lead.

You can play a widget welder, Emmett.

Stacey’s mom wrote his name down.

I don’t want to be a widget welder. I just got a manicure.

Emmett held up his hands. His fingernails shimmered with clear nail polish.

These people are downtrodden. They can’t afford manicures, said Stacey’s mom. You’ll have to get some nail-polish remover. Who’s next?

Hannah put up her hand.

Can I play the fair maiden in distress?

There is no — what’s your name?

Hannah.

"There is no fair maiden in distress, Anna. I told you, this is a politically relevant work of contemporary social realism. What part of ‘politically relevant work of contemporary social realism’ do you not understand?"

Ummm… all of it? said Hannah.

You can be the secretary.

I don’t want to be the secretary. I can’t even type.

That doesn’t matter. You’re an actor, aren’t you? So, act! Now, what about you?

Stacey’s mom turned to Magnolia.

There are two parts left. You can play the corporate boss, or a widget welder.

This is rigged! Magnolia protested.

Oh, a feisty one, said Stacey’s mother. That’s good. I’ll put you down as a widget welder.

I don’t want to be a widget welder!

Of course you don’t. You’re condemned to a life of blue-collar drudgery.

I don’t want to be condemned to a life of blue-collar drudgery!

Of course you don’t. Who would? You can rise up against injustice. You’ll be perfect.

Stacey’s mother wrote Magnolia’s name down.

But this isn’t fair…

Magnolia turned to Madame Karloff. But the drama teacher only sighed, as though overcome by a tragic but inevitable fate.

Right, you over there. Stacey’s mom pointed her pen at Wilmot. You can be the corporate boss.

But I’m a musician, protested Wilmot.

Not any more. Your soul has been squeezed dry by the corporate rat race.

But I don’t want a squeeze-dried soul.

Too bad. Someone’s got to be the corporate boss. She wrote Wilmot’s name down and placed her clipboard on the side-table.

"Now, before I go, I have another exciting announcement. Boys and girls, the Parent Council has been working extremely hard to find corporate sponsors for our extra-curricular activities. So I’m very pleased to announce that Executive Work Wear will provide all of the costumes for this production, from their new ‘Splash of Mustard’ collection!"

Executive Work Wear? Hannah said.

You might know them by their initials: EWW, said Stacey’s mom.

As in EWW, gross, whispered Magnolia.

Stacey’s mom unzipped the suit bag, revealing a scratchy-looking, yellow-and-brown chequered wool business suit.

Ewww, gross! Hannah exclaimed.

She slapped her hand over her mouth.

Oops. Sorry.

What’s the problem, Anna? said Stacey’s mom.

Hannah.

What’s the problem, Hannah?

The colour. It looks like diarrhea. No offense.

Don’t be silly, Anna.

Hannah.

Don’t be silly, Hannah. Mustard is the new Ketchup!

"The what?"

It’s the slogan at Executive Work Wear, Stacey’s mom explained. "It means, mustard is a must-have item this season."

It is?

Mustard says: I am strong! Mustard says: I am powerful! Mustard says: I am in command! said Stacey’s mom.

Mustard says: I want to barf, Magnolia muttered.

It may not be to your taste, Stacey’s mom said, as she zipped up the suit-bag.

"But Executive Work Wear is