Never Swipe a Bully's Bear

1.
Welcome to Time-Out

2.
Something You Should Know Before We Get Started

3.
Something Else You Should Know Before We Get Started

4.
Hamilton

5.
Your Epidermis Is Showing

6.
The Case of the Missing Pig

7.
Pig-Napper!

8.
Bobo

9.
Welcome to the Dirty Clothes Basket

10.
Plum

11.
A Very Unusual Football

12.
Your Proboscis Is Showing Too

13.
Good-Bye from Time-Out

About the Author

Copyright

About the Publisher

Welcome to the Official Roscoe Riley Time-out Corner.

It's nice to have some company.

Getting stuck in time-out can be awfully boring.

Thing is, I got in a teensy bit of trouble. Again.

Even though I really, truly didn't mean to.

You know, it's hard for a guy like me to keep track of so many rules.

So I've started keeping a list.

This time I broke rule number 214: Do not kidnap your classmate's teddy bear.

And hide him in the dirty clothes basket.

Who knew?

You've bear-napped before, right?

Oh.

Bunny-napped? Pig-napped? Kangaroo-napped?

Oh.

Well, looking back, I guess it
does
seem like a bad idea.

But maybe you'll understand better if I tell you the whole story….

You are never too old to love a stuffed animal.

I'll bet one of your favorite grown-ups has an old teddy bear hidden in a closet.

And I'll bet it has a silly name too.

Like Hugaboo. Or Mr. Tickletoes. Or Poopzilla.

Why do people always give their stuffed animals such crazy names?

Search me. I named my stuffed pig Hamilton.

He is way too cool to be called Poopzilla.

I don't care what you've heard.

Hamilton does NOT wear dresses.

I wouldn't be stuck here in time-out if I'd just listened to my big brother.

And believe me, I hardly ever say that.

It started the other day. I was packing Hamilton into my backpack.

So he could go to school with me. Just like always.

Max saw me. “No pigs allowed at school, Roscoe,” he said.

I ignored him.

Because number one, that isn't a rule. Unless the pig is the real kind.

And number two, when a little brother ignores a big brother, it drives the big brother crazy.

Max was eating Cheerios. He threw one at my head. “You're in first grade now,” he said. “And first graders do NOT take stuffed animals to school.”

I picked the Cheerio out of my hair.

Then I ate it.

That also drives big brothers crazy.

“Hamilton always comes with me,” I said.

Mom ran into the kitchen. “Has anyone seen Hazel's Cinderella toothbrush?”

Hazel is my little sister. She has a thing about princesses. Also mud.

“The point is, stuffed animals are for babies,” Max said.

“Max!” Mom said. “What are you talking about?”

“Roscoe's taking that stinkpot Bacon to school,” Max said.

“That isn't his name,” I said.

“Ham,” Max said.

“Ham-ILTON,” I said.

“It would be totally embarrassing if anyone sees you with that thing,” Max said. “I'd be humiliated!”

“You are in fourth grade,” Mom said. “Roscoe's in first. How is he going to humiliate you?”

Max shook his head. “I'm sorry, Mom,” he said, “but you know nothing about the real world. People will talk.”

“That pig is Roscoe's best friend,” Mom said. “And as long as it's okay with his teacher, he may take Bacon—I mean
Hamilton
—to school.”

“Besides, nobody knows he's there,” I pointed out. “'Cause he stays in my backpack. Only Emma and Gus know about him. And Ms. Diz.”

Ms. Diz is my teacher. And Emma and Gus are my best buddies.

Max made a pig-snort sound.

I snorted back. Twice.

Let me tell you, dealing with big brothers is an art.

“I'm bringing Hamilton,” I said. “And that's that.”

The thing is, I've had Hamilton forever.

My Great-aunt Hilda sent him to me on my first birthday.

She has a pig farm in North Carolina.

Great-aunt Hilda says pigs are very intelligent and lovable.

Sort of like snorting dogs.

I can't sleep without Hamilton.

When I was little, he kept away monsters and fire-breathing dragons.

When I got bigger, he kept away black widow spiders and grizzly bears.

He is my guard pig.

“Guys!” Dad called. “Hustle! It's almost time for the bus!”

Max ran to get his backpack. Mom ran to find Hazel's toothbrush.

I sat in the kitchen and stared at Hamilton.

I put him on the counter.

What if Max was right?

I was getting awfully old.

I mean, I had a loose tooth. That's WAY old.

Hamilton looked worried, like he might start to cry.

I could see this was very hard for him.

“Okay, buddy, you can come,” I said.

I smushed Hamilton into the very bottom of my backpack.

I left the zipper open a little. So he could breathe.

Max was crazy. Nobody would bug me about Hamilton.

Because nobody knew about him. Except Ms. Diz and Emma and Gus.

I peeked into my backpack.

“Hamilton,” I said. “You can come to school with me forever. Even when I'm a fourth grader.”

When I got to school, I went straight to the cubbies by our classroom.

While I hung up my backpack, I checked to make sure no one was nearby.

Good. The coast was clear.

I whispered to Hamilton through the zipper hole. “See you, buddy.”

I heard someone behind me. So I zipped up my backpack really quick.

My pal Gus ran up. His cubby is right next to mine.

Gus's cubby sign looks like this:

GUS CARR

My cubby sign looks like this:

ROSCOE RILEY

I have smaller letters on account of my name is longer.

We headed into the classroom. Emma ran over to join us.

Wyatt zoomed past us, pretending to be a jet.

“Hey, Gus,” he yelled. “Your epidermis is showing.”

Gus looked worried.

“
Epidermis
just means
skin
, Gus,” I told him. “That is the oldest joke on the planet.”

I know this because I have a big brother.

Max is useful for some things.

Wyatt zoomed back again.

“Hey, Roscoe,” he said, “your proboscis is showing.”

That was a new one. Even Max had never said it.

I checked for boogers. I checked my zipper. I checked every other embarrassing thing I could think of.

Emma made an I-don't-know-what-Wyatt's-talking-about face. And she knows lots of big words.

Wyatt laughed a loud, meanish laugh.

My dad says every classroom has a bully.

In Ms. Diz's class, his name is Wyatt.

Dad says when somebody like Wyatt teases you, a good answer is “So what?”

They never quite know what to say to that one.

This also works on little sisters and big brothers.

Feel free to borrow “So what?” anytime you need it.

“I see Roscoe's proboscis!” Wyatt yelled.

“So what?” I said.

Wyatt stopped zooming. He scrunched up his face.

“I'll bet you don't even know what that is,” he said at last.

“Do so,” I said.

“What is it then?” he said.

“Just zip it, Wyatt,” said Emma.

That's a fancy way of saying BE QUIET.

Emma has a way with words.

Suddenly I remembered that I'd zipped up poor Hamilton. How would he breathe without an air hole?

“I'll be right back,” I said.

I ran to the cubbies in the hall. No one was there.

I unzipped my backpack. So Hamilton could have some nice, fresh air.

I reached in to move him around. So he could be more comfortable.

“Now you look comfy,” I said.

“Who are you talking to, Riley?” someone asked.

I smushed Hamilton down and spun around.

Wyatt!

“Nobody,” I said. “I mean, I was just talking to myself.”

Wyatt took a step closer. “What's in there, anyway?”

I could feel my face getting red. I hate that.

It's like your epidermis is tattling on you.

“I saw something,” said Wyatt. “Is that a stuffed pig? Because stuffed animals are for loser babies.”

“It's not a stuffed animal!” I cried. “It's a…a lunch bag.”

“You talk to your lunch?” Wyatt asked.

“Only when it's bologna,” I said.

Which I thought was a pretty good answer.

I walked back into class.

Wyatt was shaking his head.

And staring at my backpack.