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the volume on the television.
    “Turn that down,” Gordy said.
    “No can do. I’m watching
Double Take.
It’s important.”
    “I thought they took that off the air,” Sheila said.
    “It’s on Saturday mornings now,” I told her.
    “That show bites the big one,” Gordy said. “And this Freak-show’s got that Jeremy Jason Jerk’s face plastered all over his
     room. I’m tellin’ ya, there’s something wrong with this kid.” He thwacked my arm with the phone. “I said, turn it down!”
    I turned up the volume as loud as it would go. Gordy dropped the phone, dived over the back of the couch, and torpedoed me.
    “Hey, get off!” I yelled.
    “Leave him alone, Gordo,” Sheila said. “Jeez, don’t be such a drag.”
    “Yeah, Gordo!”
    He was strangling my wrist to get the remote control when I pulled his T-shirt sleeve and saw a flash of orange on his upper
     arm. In the middle of our struggle I got a better look and made out some sort of burning skull.
    “Is that - that’s not a tattoo, is it?” I said, surrendering the remote. “That better not be a real one, or Mom’ll kill you.”
    He pushed me away and tossed the remote to Sheila, who clicked the TV on mute and started channel surfing.
    “So what if it’s real?” Gordy said, picking up the phone. “It’s my body. I’m old enough to do what I want.”
    While he was dialing, I edged in a little closer to him, trying to make out the scabby letters under the skull.
    “Uh-huh,” he mumbled into the receiver, slicking back his greasy hair. “Partly cloudy… a high of sixty-seven… winds from the
     west-northwest gusting to - blah, blah, blah… humidity, thirty-nine percent. See, babe - no rain till tomorrow.”
    “That
was your important phone call?” I said, but he ignored me.
    “Come on,” he said to Sheila, “let’s rock ‘n’ roll.”
    “Hey,” I said, “what’s R-E-B-U-L stand for?”
    “Rebel,
you loser.”
    “You’re the loser,” I said.
“Rebel
is spelled with an
e,
not a
u.”
All of a sudden it hit me and I burst out laughing. “Omigod! You have to walk around for the rest of your life with a typo
     on your arm!”
    Gordy did an all-out attack on me, twisting my arm behind my back and yelling, “Take it back, take it back,” like it was my
     fault. Real mature.
    “Aw, leave the kid alone,” Sheila muttered.
“American Graffiti
is on. I love this movie.”
    When the pain outweighed the laughter, I “took it back” and curled up in the corner of the couch. I knew I didn’t have a snowball’s
     chance in h-e-double-hockey-sticks of getting back control of the TV set as long as Elvis and Priscilla were in the room.
     Luckily, it was the last twenty minutes of the movie.
    When it ended, Gordy pointed his finger at my face and warned, “You’d better keep your big mouth shut about the tattoo, see?
     ‘Cause I’ve got some juicy dirt on you too.” Then he grabbed his main squeeze and my box of doughnuts and bolted.
    I was stunned for a few seconds, wondering if Gordy really knew something - or if he was just being the usual Gordy. When
     I switched channels on the TV, the
Double Take
credits were already rolling.
    See ya next week, kids. Same time, same place—brand-new show!
    “New show?” I said back to the TV. “What about
Double Take?”
    You’ll slap yourself
silly
if you miss it when the
Maniac Muldoon
cartoon makes its hilarious debut on Laugh-Fest Saturday Morning!
    Wally called again. Our conversation started out just like the one before.
    “Arrrrgh!”

Chapter 5
Water Balloons
    Wally’s mom had me all worried for nothing. Monday morning, after the Pledge of Allegiance, Futterman announced that
The Castle of the Crooked Crowns
would be performed in a special assembly at one o’clock that Thursday - April Fools’ Day! We rehearsed like crazy for three
     days, and I knew my lines (and everyone else’s) backward and forward. But come Wednesday night I was so wound up, I must’ve
     slept