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Pickle: The (Formerly) Anonymous Prank Club of Fountain Point Middle School

Pickle: The (Formerly) Anonymous Prank Club of Fountain Point Middle School

4.5 28
by Kim Baker

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Ben: who began it all by sneaking in one night and filling homeroom with ball-pit balls.
Frank: who figured out that an official club, say a pickle-making club, could receive funding from the PTA.
Oliver: Who once convinced half of the class that his real parents had found him and he was going to



Ben: who began it all by sneaking in one night and filling homeroom with ball-pit balls.
Frank: who figured out that an official club, say a pickle-making club, could receive funding from the PTA.
Oliver: Who once convinced half of the class that his real parents had found him and he was going to live in a submarine.
Bean: Who wasn't exactly invited, but her parents own a costume shop, which comes in handy if you want to dress up like a giant squirrel and try to scare people at the zoo.

TOGETHER, they are an unstoppable prank-pulling force, and Fountain Point Middle School will never be the same.

Latino Interest.

Editorial Reviews

School Library Journal
Gr 4–6—Ben Diaz has a secret. His after-school pickle-making club is just a cover for the group's real purpose: pulling pranks. Ben also has a problem. His best friend wants to join, but Hector can't keep a secret, and Hector's grandmother is the stern principal of the boys' middle school. When a prank releases thousands of crickets at a school fair, the principal suspends all extracurricular activities until the culprits turn themselves in. The club members organize a protest to reclaim students' rights, as Ben says, "to be responsible for our choices. We can't if she won't let us." The resolution will satisfy even if it's a bit idealized, just as the novel's kid-empowerment theme will resonate with young readers, but it does not help them to consider that their choices-like pranks-can have unintended consequences. Ben's first-person narration feels authentic. What feels forced is the device of the protagonist warning readers in chapter one to continue with the story "only if you think you can handle it." The club members all have backstories that make them distinct characters; the adults get less attention. Probert's finely detailed, expressive illustrations depict the club's racially diverse makeup. Baker's debut novel shows promise and offers an enjoyable read.M. Kozikowski, Sachem Public Library, Holbrook, NY
Publishers Weekly
Baker’s debut is a lighthearted romp with cross-gender appeal. When good- natured sixth-grader Ben Diaz stumbles on the chance to pull a perfect, anonymous prank at school (the balls from a pizzeria’s ball pit are involved), the satisfaction—and his schoolmates’ reaction—inspire him to seek out bigger opportunities. He recruits two classmates for his “secret prank task team”; they are soon joined by two more, creating a multicultural and personable crew of mischief-makers. Together they go undercover as the most boring official school club they can think of, the League of Pickle Makers. Soon the school fountain is overflowing with soap bubbles, and kids in soaked clothing are emerging from the restrooms (where the sinks have been wrapped in plastic), thanks to Ben’s Prank and Trick Association (the other P.T.A.), which must also keep up its pickle-making cover for an upcoming Pioneer Fair. Fair warning: the practical jokes are troublesome and annoying to authority figures but harmless and hilarious to kids, and thus may prove inspirational to like-minded readers. Ages 8–12. Agent: Sara Crowe, Harvey Klinger Inc. (Sept.)
From the Publisher

“Pickle is fun and hilarious! The pranks pulled off are so fantastically fun that it's almost dangerous to let kids read it.” —Chris Rylander, Sid Fleischman Humor Award Winner and author of The Fourth Stall series

“A book that I simply cannot keep on my library shelves . . . kids eat this book up with a spoon.” —Elizabeth Bird, Fuse #8, New York Public Library

“Reading Pickle makes me want to fill an entire school waist-deep with bean dip; stage an impromptu zombie attach during lunchtime; wear a cowbow hat while driving a herd of house cats through the halls. . . . Whatever it moves you to do, you'll find Pickle to be inspired fun.” —Matthew Holm, co-creator of Babymouse and Squish

“Baker writes with a light and lively hand, depicting a realistic urban setting peopled with engaging characters from various ethnic backgrounds.” —The Horn Book

“Sure to please anyone with a puckish sense of humor or a hankering for innocent prank ideas.” —Kirkus Reviews

“Even though this is a fast-paced, humorous story, it tackles the true meanings of friendship. . . . Pair this with James Preller's Justin Fisher books or Jeff Kinney's Diary of a Wimpy Kid series.” —Booklist

“Probert's finely detailed, expressive illustrations depict the club's racially diverse makeup. Baker's debut novel shows promise and offers an enjoyable read.” —School Library Journal

Sid Fleischman Humor Award Winner and author of Th Chris Rylander

Pickle is fun and hilarious! The pranks pulled off are so fantastically fun that it's almost dangerous to let kids read it.
Children's Literature - Bonita Herold
When Ben reads about free balls from the local ball pit, he decides to spice up sixth grade with some fun. As the one-and-only mastermind behind the secret, stinky ball caper, he is proud that he can pull it off without any finger-pointing. He envisions even bigger and better pranks but realizes he can't do them alone. So Ben sets about identifying a posse of fun-loving kids who can keep secrets. It can't include his best friend Hector because the principal, Mrs. Lebonsky, is his definitely-non-fun-loving grandmother—and Hector has a proven track record of not being able to keep secrets from her. She would label the entire group troublemakers and put them in detention forever. When Ben discovers that clubs are not only sanctioned but given start-up money, the League of Pickle Makers is born. Boys and girls are sure to enjoy this peek into a prank-playing, friend-making, us-against-the-principal world of learning how to get along in middle school. Reviewer: Bonita Herold
Kirkus Reviews
Would you want to join the League of Pickle Makers? Sixth-grader Ben Diaz is not a troublemaker. (His best friend Hector's grandmother is the persnickety principal of Fountain Point Middle School; troublemaking is inadvisable.) Ben does think harmless pranks enhance the school experience, though. So when he sees an ad for thousands of free ball-pit balls, he responds and fills his homeroom. It's so much fun he starts a club of pranksters (by invitation only). The Prank and Trick Association (P.T.A.) masquerades as the League of Pickle Makers ('cause who would want to study veggie brining after school?). Several pranks later, the school's abuzz, and the principal is cheesed off. Success! However, the exclusivity of the club jeopardizes Ben's friendship with Hector, whose grandmother can get him to confess to anything. And then a rogue prank threatens to expose them all. Baker's debut, with genial black-and-white illustrations by Probert, is a gently sarcastic, multicultural tale. The characters and conflicts are stock but no less entertaining for it. (The associated website with passwords and chat boards was not seen, but it sounds like a promising addition.) Sure to please anyone with a puckish sense of humor or a hankering for innocent prank ideas. (Fiction. 9-12)

Product Details

Roaring Brook Press
Publication date:
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Sales rank:
700L (what's this?)
File size:
4 MB
Age Range:
8 - 12 Years

Read an Excerpt


The (Formerly) Anonymous Prank Club of Fountain Point Middle School

By Kim Baker, Tim Probert

Roaring Brook Press

Copyright © 2012 Kim Baker
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-59643-858-3


Top Secret

Can I trust you? I mean, to tell you this story I need to know that you can keep a couple of secrets. I'm already in a whole lot of trouble, and it's not just me. But I want to tell you everything that happened. Everything. I'll assume that you can keep the important stuff secret and not pass this book on to anyone older than twenty. I've been paying attention, and I'm pretty sure that's when a person's sense of humor starts leaking out. If somebody is that old, this isn't their kind of story, anyway.

I'm talking about the League of Pickle Makers. Can you think of a club a person would be less curious about? That's the point. Five of us meet on Thursdays, after school in the science lab. You'd expect somebody would think it was fishy that a group of kids are excited enough about making pickles to meet every week. On meeting days we take turns making a show out of carrying around some vinegar or a sack of cucumbers. We even have a website. Check it out — www.picklesforever.com. Click on the "Fizzy Pickle Soup" recipe, and then click on the word "simmer" down at the bottom. The password is "cheese."

Now you know we're not really an organization of picklers. Honestly, I don't even like pickles that much. Only a few people know how it all started. Us — and if you think you can handle it — you.


The Balls

One day after school, I looked through the online classifieds while I waited for my best friend, Hector, to get back from shoe shopping with his grandma. Finn Romo had told Hector and me that he found a practically new skate ramp in the free classifieds the week before. Someone just gave it away. I didn't believe him, so I walked over to his house to check it out. It wasn't that big, but it still took up the whole yard. The plywood wasn't even scuffed. Hector and I live in the same apartment building. We don't have a yard, so a ramp wouldn't work, but I wanted to see what other stuff people were just giving away. There were some cool things. Somebody was trying to get rid of a ferret named Bill, and someone else was giving away a unicycle with a sparkly red seat. I thought about emailing them, but something else caught my eye. Pete's Pizza, the local pizza place with all the games and stuff, had a post for free ball-pit balls for anyone who would come pick them up. The post said the balls were free "as is." I dropped a blue raspberry slushy in the ball pit at Pete's when I was five, and I know Katie McLeod's little brother puked in there at his birthday party, so I had a pretty good idea what "as is" meant. Still, free!

Hector had been flaking out a lot lately, so there was only a fifty/fifty chance he'd even want to hang out when he got back to our building. I called the pizza parlor. The guy who answered said the balls would go to the first person who came and got them. So I grabbed a couple of black trash bags and ran down to Pete's Pizza like my butt was on fire.

For future reference, there are more than two bags of balls in a ball pit. A lot more. It smelled funky, but I still took a few bag-filling breaks to jump around and do some belly flops. Pete asked me how long I was going to take, so I filled up the second bag, ran home, and stashed them in my bedroom. I grabbed a box of garbage bags on my way out and made six more trips. I'm not going to lie: the closer I got to the bottom, the dirtier the balls got. I found a purple earring, two different sets of keys, three half- eaten lollipops, more than a few pizza crusts, and a copy of A Cricket in Times Square with a ripped cover.

I think Pete was getting pretty tired of me carrying bags of stinky balls out of his pizza parlor, because he said I could use the safety nets around the pit to haul the rest of the balls. After I scooped out the very last ball, Pete gave me some free pizza, like I'd done him a favor.

It was a really big pit. My bedroom was full after the first twelve bags, so I left the nets in the living room.

I didn't really have a plan for what I would do with the balls, so I figured I'd watch some TV until Hector got back. My dad came home just as Best Bloopers ended, and the first thing he said was "What's that smell, Ben?"

I told him about the major free ball score, but he didn't share my enthusiasm.

"You can't keep them here" was the second thing he said. Did I mention that my dad is over twenty, and therefore has sprung a humor leak? He walked around the apartment opening windows. "Get rid of them. It smells like a Parmesan cheese factory in here."

"I think they smell like feet."

"Parmesan cheese smells like feet," he said. He was right. But I didn't think I could take the balls back to Pete. I had eaten the pizza already, so it felt like a done deal. He might not be happy to see me back, and Pete's a big guy.

"You can't keep them here. Comprendes?" My dad said. When he starts out in English and ends in Spanish, he means business.

I thought about just dumping the balls straight out of our living room window so they would roll down the street. We live on a pretty big hill, and a million balls bouncing and rolling away would be something to see.

But it would be less than awesome to clean up the balls, or have cars crash when they got pummeled with giant colored hail. The police might not like it, and I'm pretty sure Pete would rat me out if they started asking questions. For a guy who runs a pizza place with video games and stuff, he doesn't seem crazy about kids. I got a jolt like I had slammed an energy drink and I knew what I could do.

"I'll take care of it," I said, and headed the six blocks back to school.

The school was still open for clubs. Hector and his grandma were in the front hall talking to Leo Saylor and his dad. Hector held a bag from the Shoe Station. I couldn't see what kind of shoes were in the bag, but I could guess. Hector's grandma usually picks his shoes out. They never have shoelaces, because she doesn't want him to trip. They usually have Velcro straps, and thick heavy soles that are supposed to keep his spine straight, or something.

I ducked behind the big fountain in front so they wouldn't see me. I was on a mission.

Hector's grandma is the principal, which is why Hector always stays out of trouble. I thought about getting his attention and filling him in about my ball plan, but I knew what his reaction would be. He looks like a tough guy, but having the principal for a grandma has done something to his nerves.

Our homeroom is around the back on the first floor, so it was easy to scope out. It was empty, and the windows were open. Perfect.

I went straight back to my apartment for the bags. My dad was watching a movie in the living room, so I dropped them off of the fire escape as quietly as I could. If I wasn't gone by the time the movie finished, he would ask where I was taking them. I heard the end music just as I climbed out of the window. I carried the bags back down the hill to our school and stashed them in the bushes under the windows. Then I ran back for more.

I was on the last trip, carrying one of the big nets full of balls over my shoulder when I smacked into Leo's dad, coming out of the school. Mr. Saylor is huge, so I almost dropped the balls all over the sidewalk. He talks a lot about how he played football and water polo in college, and I believe it. Leo is in soccer, junior baseball, young golfers, wrestling, and basketball. He falls asleep in class sometimes.

I started to fall, but Mr. Saylor grabbed my shoulder. It was dark out by then, so I hoped he wouldn't be able to see well enough to recognize my face. I thought about running away, but Mr. Saylor held on to my shoulder with he-man strength.

"Easy, Ben," he said. So much for nonrecognition. He smiled at me and glanced down. "Some sort of game tonight?" In the dark, the net just looked like an equipment bag.

"Yeah. Game," I said. I held my breath and waited for him to ask what sport Leo wasn't playing yet.

"GO BEAVERS!" he shouted, and walked past me down the sidewalk.

I ran back to the classroom window and started throwing balls in like I was warming up for the mound. I might play more sports if they were as exciting as this. It gave me goose bumps, and I may or may not have been laughing like a lunatic all by myself.

I could have stayed there all night, throwing them in one by one, but I had to get back home before my dad freaked out. I poured the rest of the bags through the opening, and then it was done. I shut the window so everyone would be more confused about where the balls came from, but the smell sticking to my hands was already grossing me out. I didn't want to sit in a class that smelled like that tomorrow, so I reopened it. I couldn't see into the classroom very well, but it looked like the balls were pretty deep. I just stood there taking it in until I heard footsteps. I ducked into the bushes and Leo and Hector walked by. I worried that they had heard me giggling to myself and would investigate, but they didn't. I stayed hidden until I heard the gym door slam and the night was quiet again.


In the Morning

I woke up about ten times that night to check the clock. It felt like the balls were bouncing around in my stomach, but in a good way. I got dressed before my mom finished making her morning coffee and went downstairs to grab Hector. He sat waiting for me in the hall outside of his apartment, with his breakfast on a paper towel in his lap. Hector had been on the dried fruit and protein bar train for a while. He held a brown rectangle out to me.

"It's a date bar. My grandma made them. Want one?" he said. I took half of one and jogged down the sidewalk. "Dude, why are you going so fast? We're going to be early."

"I'm just in a good mood," I said.

"I was in a good mood until I tasted this date bar. Yech." He shook his head. I nibbled the corner off of mine. It tasted like peas, even though I couldn't see any green stuff in there. We stopped at the bodega for pan dulce and orange juice to wash the taste out of our mouths.

"Come on, Hector!" I held the door open, but he'd stopped to check the baseball scores in the paper.

"What's the hurry?"

"I just don't want to be late," I said. He looked at me like I was crazy, but he put the paper down and followed me out. I tried not to walk too fast, but it was hard.

Ms. Ruiz keeps the classroom locked, and she doesn't come to open the door until the bell rings. I bounced from foot to foot while we waited in the hall and Hector talked about some shark show he'd seen on TV. I spotted Ms. Ruiz down the hall. She seemed to be dragging her feet even more than usual. There are posters up all over our room saying things like "Excellence Through Determination!" with marathon runners and rock climbers, but the posters are the only enthusiastic thing I have ever seen about Ms. Ruiz. I could have crawled to the classroom faster than she walked.

The bell rang just as she finally stopped in front of the classroom door. It's like she timed it precisely so she wouldn't have to get there a second too soon. She opened the door, and a couple of the people closest to the front of the crowd gasped. Everybody got quiet, beholding the awesomeness. The balls sat in a pile three feet high under the windows. They were spread across the floor, under desks, all the way to the other wall. The open windows hadn't done much for the stench.

"It's like one of those ball crawls!" Hector said. I raised my eyebrows and made my eyes big, which hopefully looked like surprise. Then everybody was pushing into the room at once and the smell didn't stop anybody from diving in. We jumped around like a bunch of sugared-up four-year-olds. A few kids ran around kicking balls. Frank Lenny grabbed a couple of balls and started juggling.

Finn yelled, "Ball fight!" And then it got really crazy. Balls were flying everywhere. Maggie Rubio did a belly flop and hit her head on the math center. Bean Lee pulled her camera out and started filming a video. I whacked Hector in the stomach with a dented green ball.

"Cut it out! That hurt," he said. He rubbed his stomach with one hand and threw a ball at Bean Lee with the other. I know I didn't hit him that hard, but I apologized anyway. I definitely did not hit him as hard as he hit me in the eye a minute later. He didn't say he was sorry, he just laughed.

Ms. Ruiz called someone on the phone, and I tried to read her lips to see if it was Principal Lebonsky. I'd passed her in the hall on the way into class, and she did not look particularly happy. Not that she ever did. Even when she was smiling it was more like she was just showing her teeth. Frank grabbed three more balls and tried to juggle five at once. Ms. Ruiz hung up and yelled, "Everybody just calm down." She watched Oliver Swanson lie down on his stomach and pretend to swim through the balls across the room. Then she gave up and sat down at her desk. I kind of wanted her to freak out a little bit more, but I guess freaking out is not her style. A ball landed smack in her coffee and she pulled it out and chucked it back onto the floor. Then she yawned and took a drink. Yuck.

I ducked a flying red ball and kept an eye on the door. I was waiting for Principal Lebonsky, but Rick the janitor opened it. Rick came in, muttered something that sounded like "Sweet cheeses," and left. He came back with a box of trash bags and handed one to each kid without a word.

"Come on, man! Just let us have a few more minutes," Oliver said.

"Why don't we ask Principal Lebonsky if she thinks you should have a couple more minutes," Rick said. We started scooping, even though I think he was bluffing. He didn't want to talk to her any more than anybody else. I've seen the look on his face after she's told him to clean the toilets.

Even scooping up the balls was fun. Everybody got into the cleaning. Except Maggie. She played the head-injury card and sat down at her desk while the rest of us scooped. Ms. Ruiz said she had to go back to the teacher's lounge for a few minutes. Kids tried to throw balls into other kids' bags across the room until Rick said to cut it out.

"Did you do this?" I asked everyone, just in case anyone suspected that it had been me. I made a let-me-in-on-the-joke face. The other kids wanted to know how the balls got there, but nobody had a clue. By the time Ms. Ruiz got back with a new mug of coffee, the leading theory was that some seventh- or eighth-grade criminal mastermind was behind the whole thing. I just nodded and tried to keep all the happy I was feeling on the inside.

We set the bags of balls out in the hallway for Rick, and Ms. Ruiz started a lecture on Greek myths. I drew balls and stars in my notebook while she wrote names of Greek gods and goddesses on the whiteboard. Then I passed Hector a note.


He nodded and tucked the paper into his notebook. Then he got it back out and scribbled something down on it.

I wonder what's going to happen next.


Character Building

"We should try something like that," I said when Hector and I were alone on the way home after school.

"Like what?"

"The balls. Something fun." Hector picked up a crumpled soda can and threw it into a trash can fifteen feet ahead of us. It didn't even touch the side. Usually when he makes a great shot, he'll make a whoop, or a fist pump or something. He just put his hands in his pockets and kept walking.

"Nah. I can't."

"What? Why not?"

"Because, dude. Whoever put the balls in there is going to get into trouble. My grandma heard about it from Rick. She asked if I knew who started it, and if I 'participated in the foolery.'"

Hector made quote marks with his fingers, but I would have already guessed that those were Principal Lebonsky's words, and not his.

"What did you tell her?"

"I said I didn't know who put them there, and I didn't throw any."

"What does she think, you just sat there at your desk taking notes while everybody else goofed off?"

"I don't know. Whatever. If I told her I'd been playing around she would have given me a character card."

It sounds like something from a game, but it's not. Principal Lebonsky gives Hector a yellow index card with an inspirational quote anytime she doesn't like something he did. Sometimes the quotes are from Thomas Jefferson and people like that, but most of the time it's stuff she made up. He has to tack them to his bedroom door. Once he gets up to five, bad things happen. Last time, she took his skateboard for two weeks. He tried to tell her that skateboarding is exercise, but she doesn't think it counts.


Excerpted from Pickle by Kim Baker, Tim Probert. Copyright © 2012 Kim Baker. Excerpted by permission of Roaring Brook Press.
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.

Meet the Author

Kim Baker moved around a lot as a kid, which taught her two things: silliness is a great way to make pals, and goofy people make the best firends. She lives in Seattle with her family and still goofs off. A lot. Pickle is her first book.
Kim Baker moved around a lot as a kid, which taught her two things: silliness is a great way to make pals, and goofy people make the best friends. She lives in Seattle with her family and still goofs off. A lot. Pickle is her first book.
Tim Probert has illustrated children’s books, including Pickle by Kim Baker, as well as magazines and advertisements. He is also a director at the animation studio Aardman Nathan Love. He lives in New York City.

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Pickle: The (Formerly) Anonymous Prank Club of Fountain Point Middle School 4.6 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 30 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I LOVED this book! There aren't enough books out there that make you laugh out loud and this is definitely one of them. It's for boys or girls, about middle school age kids but it's one of those books that kid to adults will enjoy. I didn't want to put it down. My sides still hurt!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Excellent book for kids of all ages! Made us laugh and wish that such a club really existed!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Funny read!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Great book
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This is a veary funny book
Alan8-411 More than 1 year ago
Is this book actually about Pickles? If it is it’s humorous already! But no, this book is not about pickles, wait no; maybe it is. Let begin where it all started, all the pranks and all the fun. A boy named Ben Diaz, who began it all by sneaking in one night and filling homeroom with ball-pit balls. Ben  realizes that it's nice to kick back and have a little (mostly) harmless fun. As the pranks population grew and grew, people got suspicious but not everyone thought the prank was bad. Frank, Oliver, and Bean had thought the prank was hilarious and wanted to join Ben to do some more pranks. Although one of Ben’s close friend seem to be missing, he feel left out, for some reason Ben wouldn’t let him in the Prank Club. Why? Simple, because His close friend’s grandmother is the school’s principal! He doesn’t want to be caught by her, and it will be easy if he’s around in the club. So “where” is this pickle situation coming along? There was a pickle contest in the school and the perfect name to use for the prank club was “Pickle” , unsuspected and even better named by a food! This book have tons of humorous scenes. And each one of them keeps the book interesting and provide the reader with laughter and amusement. Pickle involves making new relationship and sticking with your friends. I loved this book, probably because he’s in middle school as well. It brings the connection to the real and personal world.  Although it’s unlikely that a middle school student will do a prank like this but, it’s because of this bravery and the suspense of getting caught bring the book together! I would totally re-read this book. Even though I know what happens. I would recommend this book to people who enjoy humor and laughter. Sure, I find reading books boring sometimes, but this really brings my spirit up. I would rate this book a full score.  And overall I really like and enjoy reading this book. Hope you do too.  Alan. Y
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
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Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Blue bonett
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Res 1: directory. Res 2: pup room- play and talk. Res 3: nursry- sleep and suckle/ eat res 4: order forms for adoptions!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Its a really cool book i think people well enjoy it!!!!!!! :)
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Hi. Long time no chat. Hows it going? I saw your twitter. Can I be in your story?-FR
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Can i be in your story and maybe have flower powers? ~ S.P
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
&#9432 &#9433
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Can i be in your story? I want to have the power of being able to bend all the elements: air, water, earth and fire. And i have this state where i can summon unbelievable power, my eyes glow cerulean. How ever i can only enter this state when im in a major crisis, or i have entered a state of emotion. And i want to be good. (Minecraftian.) Its your choice, Logging off, DarkThunder1.
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Anonymous More than 1 year ago
The series will be about the three worlds. The End, The Nether, and The Overworld. Each world has two characters. The Nether has Devil the Dog and Herobrine. The End has Ender Princess and Mr. Man. The Overworld has Notch and Steve. They all want to protect their lands from Herobrine. Herobrine keeps attacking and attacking until he gets defeated. Can E.P., Mr. Man, Notch, and Steve agree to team up and beat Herobrine?~DuhStoryTheater
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Mr.sterling rocks
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Fantastic book!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
So sorry!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Pickles res 4
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Pads in