Funny Boy Takes on the Chit-Chatting Cheeses from Chattanooga Read Online Free PDF Page B

gigantic—cheese ball!”
    “That’s horrible!” Bob Foster groaned.
    “All’s fair in love and war,” commented Monterey Jack.
    “It’s gonna be Earth parmigiana!” Mozzarella cracked.
    “Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!” the other cheeses laughed.
    “When Earth is entirely covered by cheese,” Romano continued, “it will block off the rays of the sun. This will trigger massive global cooling. The temperature of your planet will drop lower and lower. It will be another Ice Age! Earth will become uninhabitable and all human life will cease to exist!”
    “Welcome to the Cheese Millennium!” Mozzarella cracked.
    “Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!” the other cheeses laughed.
    “Good plan, eh?” asked Mozzarella.
    “That’s the stupidest plan I ever heard in my life,” I told him honestly.
    “Who asked you, fake-nose boy?”
    “These cheeses are nuts,” Bob whispered to me. “You’d better have some good jokes this time, or we’re finished.”
    “What are your demands?” the President asked grimly.
    “Our demands are simple,” Fontina replied. “One, you must stop the manufacture, distribution, and sale of all cheese. Two, you must make the eating of cheese punishable by death. Three, you must turn the Smithsonian Institution into the National Museum of Cheese. And four, you must change the Pledge of Allegiance to read as follows: I pledge allegiance to the cheese, who rules the United States of America, and to the Fondue for which it stands, one Nation, individually wrapped, with curds and whey for all.”
    “That’s ridiculous!” the President snapped. “It’s out of the question.”
    “So you refuse to give in to our demands?”
    “I have listened to your silly demands,” the President warned. “Now you must listen to this. ”
    The President gave me a shove forward. I was now face-to-face with the largest cheese in the world.
    “Uh, yes,” I stammered. “My name is Funny Boy. And I will defeat you by using my advanced sense of humor.”
    “Your what ?”
    “Jokes, puns, quips, wisecracks,” the President answered. “After Funny Boy gets you laughing, you will see the folly of your ways and leave the good people of Earth alone.”
    “You must be joking,” Romano replied.
    “Of course I’m joking!” I agreed. “That’s why they call me Funny Boy.”
    “Go ahead,” the President urged. “Tell him one of those jokes of yours.”
    I happened to have just finished reading a book titled Milton Berle’s Private Joke File, which was filled with over ten thousand jokes for every occasion. I tried to recall a few of the better ones.
    “A father told his son that if he behaved, he could grow up to be just like Lincoln. The kid replied, ‘Who wants to be a tunnel?’”
    The cheeses just stared at me.
    “It’s not working!” the President whispered to me. “Try another one.”
    “I know a kid who was so dumb,” I quipped, “he didn’t know he was ten until he was twelve.”
    Nothing. Zip. Zero. Not even a smile.
    “You know,” I continued, “when I was little I was so skinny that I had to stand next to my brother to have a shadow.”
    “Your jokes are tiresome!” Mozzarella thundered. “Let the cheesing of America begin!”
    I glanced out the barn door. White flakes had started to fall from the sky.
    “Let’s get out of here!” the President shouted. “Run for your lives!”
    “Cheese it!” yelled Bob Foster.

    Cheesy trivia from Bob Foster: The first cheese factory in the United States was started by a man named Jesse Williams in Rome, New York, in 1851!

CHAPTER 10

    THINGS START GETTING REALLY SILLY HERE, AND WILL ONLY GET SILLIER. IF YOU HAVE ANY SENSE, YOU’LL TURN BACK AND GRAB ONE OF THOSE NEWBERY BOOKS THAT GROWN-UPS THINK YOU SHOULD BE READING INSTEAD OF THIS JUNK.
    By the time we got to the airport in Appleton, flakes of falling cheese were starting to stick to the ground. The wheels of the limousine were beginning to skid around the corners, and