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CHAPTER 1
THE 78-STORY TREEHOUSE
Hi, my name is Andy.
This is my friend Terry.
We live in a tree.
Well, when I say "tree," I mean treehouse. And when I say "treehouse," I don't just mean any old treehouse-I mean a 78-story treehouse! (It used to be a 65-story treehouse, but we've added another 13 stories.) So what are you waiting for? Come on up!
It's got a drive-through car wash (that you can drive through with the windows open and the roof down),
a combining machine,
a not-so-tight tightrope,
a 78-plate-spinning level,
a giant unhatched egg,
a courtroom with a robot judge called Edward Gavelhead,
a scribbletorium,
Andyland (a land full of Andy clones created in our cloning machine),
Terrytown (a crazy town full of Terry clones),
Jillville (a village full of Jills),
an ALL-BALL sports stadium (where you can play every ball sport in the whole world all at the same time),
an open-air movie theater with a super-giant screen,
and a high-security potato chip storage facility protected by 1,000 loaded mousetraps, 100 laser beams, a 10-ton weight, and one very angry duck.
As well as being our home, the treehouse is also where we make books together. I write the words, and Terry draws the pictures.
As you can see, we've been doing this for quite a while now.
Sure, things can get crazy when you live in a 78-story treehouse ...
But we always get our book written in the end ... somehow.
CHAPTER 2
TREEHOUSE: THE MOVIE
If you're like most of our readers, you're probably wondering if we're ever going to make a Treehouse movie. Well ... guess what? We're making one right now! We've got lights ...
cameras ...
chairs with our names on the backs ...
and a big-shot Hollywood movie director called Mr. Big Shot calling the shots....
"CUT!" yells Mr. Big Shot. "That's BORING!"
"But that's how I always start the book," I say.
"This is NOT a book," barks Mr. Big Shot through his megaphone. "It's a MOVIE!"
"Well, yes," I say, "I know that and you know that, but I was just explaining it to the readers...."
"Readers?" barks Mr. Big Shot. "I'm not interested in readers! I make MOVIES for movie fans who want ACTION, EXCITEMENT, and THRILLS, not talking! Who are you, anyway?"
"I'm Andy," I say. "I'm the narrator."
"Narrator?" says Mr. Big Shot. "We don't need a narrator."
"But I'm also one of the main characters."
"Hmmm," says Mr. Big Shot, frowning. "What about that other guy? The funny one with the curly hair. Where's he?" "Here he comes now," I say as Terry runs onto the set with his pants on fire.
"Get out of the way!" says Terry, running between me and Mr. Big Shot. He reaches the edge of the deck and leaps off.
"Did he just jump into the shark tank?!" says Mr. Big Shot. "Yep," I sigh. "That's Terry for you." We peer over the edge. "Are you all right?" shouts Mr. Big Shot.
"Much better now that my pants aren't on fire," says Terry.
"But you're in a tank full of man-eating sharks!" says Mr. Big Shot.
"Yikes," says Terry. "I meant to jump into the swimming pool!" Terry swims to the side of the tank and tries to climb out. He's fast, but one of the sharks is faster. It surges up behind him,
opens its enormous mouth,
and chomps down on Terry's freshly barbecued behind!
The electrocuted shark spits Terry out with such force that he flies up into the air and lands sprawled on the deck in front of us.
"That ... was ... electrifying!" says Mr. Big Shot. "Here, let me help you up."
He reaches down and grabs Terry's hand.
The electric shock sends Mr. Big Shot flying backward. He crashes into one of the camera operators and then falls to the ground.
"Sorry," says Terry. "I must still be electricorn-ified." "Electri-what-ified?" says Mr. Big Shot.
"Well," says Terry, "I used the combining machine to cross an electric eel
"with a unicorn
"to make an electricorn ...
"but then a bolt of lightning shot out of the electricorn's horn,
"hit the back of my pants,
"and set them on fire."
Mr. Big Shot roars with laughter.
"What's so funny?" says Terry.
"You are," says Mr. Big Shot. "You're a LAUGH RIOT!!! This will make a great opening sequence for the movie!"
"But I always do the opening sequence!" I say.
"In the book, yes," says Mr. Big Shot. "But this is NOT a book ... this is a movie! And Terry is going to be the star!"
"Me?" says Terry. "A movie star?"
"Him?" I say. "A movie star? But what about me?"
"I already told you," says Mr. Big Shot, "we don't need a narrator." He turns his attention back to Terry. "Is that electricorn still there?"
"Yes, I guess so," says Terry.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" says Mr. Big Shot. "Come on, everybody-except for Andy-let's go and film a reenactment!"
CHAPTER 3
SPIN, SPIN, SPIN
Fine.
So Mr. Big Shot doesn't want me in the movie.
I don't care.
It's not like I haven't got more important things to do. That giant unhatched egg, for instance-it's not going to hatch itself.
I'd better go and sit on it right now!
I don't mind.
This is important work.
Much more important than making some dumb movie.
Hang on.
That's a weird noise.
It sounds a bit like Jill and her intergalactic space-animal rescue service returning through the Earth's atmosphere.
It is Jill and her intergalactic space-animal rescue service!
"Hi, Andy," says Jill. "I just got back from the moon. I had to rescue some mice whose rocket crashed while they were on a cheese-seeking mission. It doesn't seem to matter how many times I tell them the moon is not made of cheese, they just don't listen."
"Yeah, well, I'm doing some pretty important work here, too," I say. "I'm helping this giant unhatched egg hatch."
"That's great!" says Jill. "I can't wait to see what comes out."
"Me neither," I say.
"Where's Terry?" says Jill.
"He's with a film crew. They're making a Treehouse movie."
"Wow!" says Jill. "How come you're not there?"
I sigh. "The big-shot Hollywood director Mr. Big Shot said he didn't need a narrator."
"Isn't it called a 'voice-over' when it's in a movie?"
"Yeah, well, whatever it's called, Mr. Big Shot didn't want it."
"That's too bad," says Jill. "Still, a movie-that's pretty exciting!"
"I guess so," I say, "if you like electricorns, that is."
"Electricorns?" says Jill.
"Yeah," I say. "Terry used the combining machine to combine an electric eel and a unicorn. They're filming a reenactment."
"This I've got to see!" says Jill. "Good luck hatching the giant unhatched egg, Andy."
"Thanks, Jill," I say, but she doesn't hear me. She's already gone.
Never mind. I'll show them.
A giant unhatched egg is more exciting than a stupid old electricorn any day. ... I mean, it could hatch any minute now ... just you wait. ...
Egg-hatching is great!
Egg-hatching is thrilling!
Egg-hatching is ...
Oh ... I must have dozed off ... That's the videophone. I'd better answer it. It's probably Mr. Big Nose.
"Hi, Mr. Big Nose," I say. "I guess you're calling about the book."
"Book?" says Mr. Big Nose. "No, I'm calling to find out how the movie is going."
"Well," I say, "I don't know if the movie is going to work out quite the way I'd hoped...."
"Are you kidding?" says Mr. Big Nose. "I've spent a fortune on Big Nose Books product placement. So you'd better make it work!"
"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with all this advertising," I say, but Mr. Big Nose has already hung up.
"Why are you still here?" says Mr. Big Shot, climbing up onto my level. "Haven't you got a home to go to?"
"The treehouse is my home," I say. "I live here."
"Well, just keep out of the way," says Mr. Big Shot. "We're about to film the scene where Terry painted a cat yellow and turned it into a catnary."
"But I was there!" I say. "I was in that story. I tried to stop him!"
"Well, we can't have that, can we?" says Mr. Big Shot. "I think moviegoers will love to see a flying cat, so if you could just keep off the set, that would be great."
"But ...," I say. "Terry! Tell him!"
Terry shrugs. "Sorry, Andy, but it's not really my decision. Mr. Big Shot is the director...."
They all head off up to the observation deck.
Fine.
Film the scene without me.
See if I care.
I've not only got to help this giant unhatched egg hatch, but I've also got 78 plates to spin!
Plates don't just keep spinning all by themselves, you know.
And plate-spinning is a lot of fun. Even more fun than giant unhatched egg-hatching.
Looks like I've arrived just in time-some of those plates are really wobbly. They're about to fall off their poles!
Well, I'll soon fix that ...
spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ...
spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ... spin ...
See what I mean?
Plate-spinning is better than making a dumb old movie any day. Uh-oh ...
I think I might have spun them a bit too hard....
"Help!" yells Terry. "The Martians are coming! Flying-saucer attack!"
"They're not flying saucers," says Jill. "They're plates!"
"CUT!" yells Mr. Big Shot. "NO PLATE-THROWING ON SET!"
"Sorry," I say.
"You should be more careful," says Jill. "One of those plates almost hit Silky!"
"It was an accident!" I say. "I just spun them a little bit too hard and they spun off their spinners!"
"Well, lucky for you we just finished that scene anyway," says Mr. Big Shot. "Now we're going to film a reenactment of the time the sharks ate Terry's underpants."
"But it's cruel to do that to the sharks again," I say. "They got really sick!"
"It's okay, Andy," says Jill. "It's just pretend. They're not real underpants. They're prop underpants, with fish paste. It's actually a treat for the sharks — and they're really excited about being in the movie."
"So if you could just run along now, Andy," says Mr. Big Shot, patting me on the head. "There's a good narrator."
"But you can't make the whole movie without me!" I say. "I was there. I was part of the story!"
"We're not making it without you," says Mr. Big Shot. "We've got Mel Gibbon to play you."
"Mel Gibson?" I say. "He's a bit old, isn't he?"
"Not Mel Gibson," says Mr. Big Shot. "Mel Gibbon. Look, here he comes now!"
"But he's a monkey!" I say.
"No, he's not," says Mr. Big Shot, "he's a gibbon. And he's also one of the hottest young primates working in film today. Plus, he works for peanuts — literally!"
"But I'll work for free!" I say. "And I'll make a more convincing Andy than some monkey. Watch this!"
"Hi, my name is Andy
... this is my friend Terry
... we live in a tree
... well, when I say 'tree' —"
"How many times do I have to tell you?" says Mr. Big Shot. "WE DON'T NEED A NARRATOR!"
"I'm not narrating," I say, "I'm acting like a narrator!"
"Sounds a lot like narrating to me," says Mr. Big Shot.
"And to me," says Terry.
"You're a good Andy, Andy," says Jill. "But I think Mel is better. He's more convincing."
"Yeah, and he's also funnier," says Terry.
"But you hate monkeys," I say.
"I know I do," says Terry. "But Mel's not a monkey-he's a gibbon."
"This is ridiculous," I say, shaking my head. "I don't believe it."
Mel comes over to me.
"Look," he says in a low voice, "I understand you're upset. If it's any comfort, I don't like it any more than you do. I was hoping to play Terry. But let's try to be professional about it, okay?"
"Professional?" I say. "The only thing professional about you is that you're a professional thief. You just stole my part in the movie."
"I didn't steal your part, I was cast," says Mel.
"Whatever!" I say, stomping off the set. "If anybody wants the real me, I'll be in the scribbletorium."
But nobody takes any notice, of course. They're all too busy making their dumb old movie.
CHAPTER 4
SCRIBBLE, SCRIBBLE, SCRIBBLE
I don't know about you, but I find that scribbling really helps take my mind off things. It's much more fun than making a movie.
And the best thing about scribbling is that it's so simple! All you need is something to scribble with ...
and a scribbletorium ...
and then you just scribble!
And scribble ...
and scribble ...
and scribble ...
and scribble ...
and scribble.
Uh-oh....
You know what I said about how scribbling is really simple? Well, I forgot to say that it can also be quite messy.
Especially if you scribble so much that the scribbletorium explodes and scribble goes all over the treehouse.
"CUT! CUT! CUT!" yells Mr. Big Shot. "WHO SCRIBBLED ALL OVER THE SET?"
"Not me," says Terry.
"Not me," says Mel.
"Not me," says Jill.
"I'm sorry, everybody," I say. "It was an accident."
Mel snorts. "Sure it was," he says. "You did it on purpose."
"Go eat a banana, Monkey-boy!" I shout at him.
Mel bursts into tears, and Terry and Jill rush to his side to comfort him.
"Andy!" says Jill. "You really need to calm down. I know you're upset, but being mean to a monkey-I mean, gibbon-well, that's inexcusable."
"I'm sorry I was mean to the monkey," I say, "but I didn't mean for the scribble to go everywhere. I just got carried away."
"I wish I could believe you, Andy," says Jill, "but I think you're being a bad sport ... and, worse, a bad friend. This is Terry's big break-can't you be happy for him?"
"I am happy for him," I say, "and I'm trying to be a good friend, but he's not being a good friend to me. He's too busy being a big-shot movie star. And then he'll probably just go off to Hollywood and leave me here all alone."
"I don't think Terry would do that," says Jill.
"Do what?" says Terry.
"Go off to Hollywood and leave Andy here all by himself." "Of course not!" says Terry. "You could come with me, Andy. I'll need somebody to carry my bags. You can be my butler!"
"BUTLER?!" I say.
"Quiet on the set!" says Mr. Big Shot.
"BUTLER?!" I say again, only louder this time. I can't believe he just suggested I could be his butler.
"I said 'quiet,' and I mean it!" shouts Mr. Big Shot.
"BUTLER?" I say again, even louder than before. "I DON'T WANNA BE YOUR DUMB BUTLER!"
"Right! That does it!" says Mr. Big Shot. "I've had enough of your plate-throwing, scribbling, and shouting. You are banned from the set!"
"The treehouse is not a 'set'!" I say. "It's my home. And not even a big bossy boots like you can ban me from my own home."
"Oh yes, I can," says Mr. Big Shot. "Watch this!"
He picks me up and boots me out of the tree.
CHAPTER 5
DAY OF THE LIVING PUDDLE
So here I am.
Kicked out of my own home.
Sitting in a puddle.
Yes, that's right. I landed in a puddle. And to make things worse, the puddle is getting bigger.
And bigger.
And bigger.
And bigger!
Uh-oh — this is no ordinary puddle. This is the sort of puddle that will just keep getting bigger and bigger and bigger and bigger until it empuddles the whole world....
But never fear ... as well as making books, Terry and I are the greatest puddle-fighting duo the world has ever known. We are every puddle's worst nightmare. Terry stomps them and then I suck them up with a straw. The Stomper and The Sucker ... (Come to think of it, our story would make a great movie!)
But this is no time to be thinking about movies. This is real life. I have to send out the secret puddle-fighting call and get the old team back together! "Stomper!" I yell.
"Stomper!"
"Stomper!"
"It's no use," says the puddle. "Nothing can stop me from empuddling your treehouse!"
"Oh, yeah?" I say, removing my T-shirt to reveal my secret puddle-fighting identity. "You just picked a fight with the wrong guy. I'm The Sucker!"
"You're a sucker all right," sneers the puddle. "A sucker for punishment!"
"No," I say, "not that sort of sucker."
I pull a supersize drinking straw from the quiver on my back and wave it menacingly at the puddle. "You'll never drink me alive!" says the puddle.
"That's what you think!" I say.
I put the straw up to my mouth and bend down.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "The 78-Story Treehouse"
by .
Copyright © 2016 Backyard Stories Ltd..
Excerpted by permission of Feiwel and Friends.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
