A Wedding for Wiglaf? Read Online Free PDF Page A

half an onion will draw the ear closer to the head.” She hung half an onion from a string on each of Wiglaf’s ears.
    “Now hold still while I work on your fingernails,” Lobelia said. “Rough hands are the sign of a peasant. Maybe you should wear gloves.”
    When she finished his nails, Lobelia began wrapping strands of Wiglaf’s hair around a red-hot curling iron.
    Wiglaf had faced two fire-breathing dragons. They had not killed him. But he thought Lobelia might. Certainly she was skilled at torture.
    It seemed to Wiglaf that his makeover took forever. But at last he found his way back to the dorm room. He had a nasty rash on his cheeks from the swamp clay. His lips burned a fiery red. Carrot-colored ringlets danced on his forehead.

    “Wiglaf!” Erica exclaimed when she saw him. “Have you caught the plague?”
    “I wish,” Wiglaf moaned. “Death by plague must be better than a makeover!” He flopped down on his cot. “And the worst is yet to come. Belcheena arrives tomorrow.”
    “We have to help him, Angus,” Erica said.
    “We do,” Angus agreed. “But how?”
    “How indeed.” Erica tapped her foot as she thought. “I do have one idea,” she said at last. “The Bag-o-Laughs Kit I ordered from Junior Jester Magazine. That should do the trick!”
    “Oh, I think I saw some of the stuff you got...like the flower that squirts water?” Angus said. “And the black gum that makes one’s teeth appear to be missing? And the hand buzzer? And the fake doggie poo?”
    “Yes!” Erica answered with a smile. “We shall give Belcheena a very special welcome indeed!”

Chapter 7
    O n Saturday morning, Wiglaf opened his eyes. He checked his ring. It was blue now. But surely it would soon turn orange. For this was the day Belcheena was coming!
    After breakfast, Wiglaf slowly made his way to Lobelia’s chamber. He had just raised his hand to knock on the door, when a bright light flashed before him.
    “Egad!” cried Wiglaf, jumping back.
    In the spot where the light had been, Zelnoc shimmered into being.
    “How do you like my new entrance?” the wizard asked. “I call it ‘The Flash.’ Beats the smoke, yes sir! I’m on a roll now, Waglop! I invented Bunnies-B-Gone. And poof! No more rabbits!”
    “That’s nice,” Wiglaf said. “Did you bring me the loathing stuff?”
    “Do bats have wings?” the wizard said. “Of course I did!” He reached up his sleeve and pulled out a bottle of bright red liquid.
    “Are you sure it will work?” Wiglaf asked.
    Zelnoc scowled down at Wiglaf. “Would I bring you something that didn’t work?”
    “Well...” Wiglaf didn’t know how to put it. Zelnoc’s spells had a way of turning out badly.
    Just then, Lobelia opened her door.
    “Hello, Wiglaf,” she said. Then she looked at Zelnoc. “A wizard!” she exclaimed. “But why are you dressed in that old robe?”
    Zelnoc frowned. “What’s wrong with it?”
    “That star pattern is so last year,” Lobelia said. “Wizards nowadays go in for comets, meteor showers, shooting stars. They want a powerful image. But come in, both of you.” She smiled. “I have a surprise for Wiglaf.”
    A surprise? Wiglaf had had more than enough of those. But he followed Zelnoc into Lobelia’s chamber. And there was Daisy.
    Wiglaf stared. His pig wore a pink silk cape. A crown of tiny rosebuds sat on her head.
    “Why are you dressed up?” Zelnoc asked.
    “Iglaf-way’s edding-way,” Daisy said.
    “Ah, yes. The wedding.” Zelnoc winked at Wiglaf. “That’s why I’m here, too, in a way.”
    Lobelia gasped. “Wiglaf, that’s brilliant!” she cried. “A wizard in your wedding!”
    “No, no, no,” Zelnoc said. “Wizard Rule #45 clearly states no wizards in weddings. Funerals, sometimes. But weddings? Never.”
    “Oh, rules were made to be broken,” Lobelia scoffed. She began circling Zelnoc. “I’ll trim your beard and find you a new robe. One that will make you look powerful, even if your powers aren’t