Almost Starring Skinnybones
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If you thought Junie B. Jones was funny—catch more laughs from New York Times bestselling author Barbara Park with the hilarious sequel to Skinnybones—just right for fans of Diary of a Wimpy Kid and I Funny!
And the award goes to…Alex Frankovitch! Roll out the red carpet! Alex “Skinnybones” Frankovitch is about to become a HUGE star—in his very own TV commercial! But Alex’s plans for stardom go HORRIBLY wrong. Forget fame and fortune—his friends think he’s a FLOP! And his fan club only has two members—a cat and a drooling toddler. Can Alex figure out another way to get his name in lights? Or is this star going to crash and burn?
“Skinnybones equals tickled funny bones.” —Booklist
“Young Alex ‘Skinnybones’ Frankovitch finally gets his chance to become a Big Celebrity…in this amusing follow-up to Skinnybones.” —Publishers Weekly
“Once again demonstrating her remarkable ear for dialogue, [Barbara Park] also shows a good sense of timing in this fast-paced outing.” —School Library Journal
“They’re doing A Christmas Carol,” he informed me. “I’m thinking about trying out for Scrooge, but if you’re going to try out I might not bother.” I thought it over a minute. The idea appealed to me. “Scrooge, eh?” I replied thoughtfully. “Yeah, I might give it a shot.” Tyrone looked disappointed. As I got up from the table, I gave him a pat on the back. “Don’t feel bad, Ty,” I said sympathetically. “You can probably still try out for one of the little unimportant parts.” The more I thought
You’re going to be wonderful. I knew it as soon as I saw you on stage. A perfect Tiny Tim!” I winced. That was me. That was who I was now. Tiny Tim Frankovitch. Weak, pale, skinny Tiny Tim Frankovitch. I looked up and gave Mr. Tilton the feeblest of smiles. “Godblessyousir,” I mumbled pathetically. Then I plodded through the door. My parents wouldn’t let me quit the play. I begged all weekend, but they wouldn’t even listen. At first my father tried to shame me into it. He took me firmly by
and stared at the locked door in front of me. A lot of thoughts were racing through my mind. Racing so fast I couldn’t sort them out. I looked at my Scrooge reflection in the mirror. If this was my “something good,” why was I so confused? “This is great, Albert,” I grumbled quietly. “You’re taking all the fun right out of this for me.” “Just go,” he ordered again. This time I was the one who was silent. “Alex, I said go.” Still nothing. “God, Alex!” he shouted suddenly. “Why can’t you just
tray on the table where mine had been. Geez! He was going to do it! He was actually going to take my seat! “Hey, I’ve got an idea, Al!” I went on. “As long as you’re sitting there, why don’t you tell these guys some more about the play? “Why don’t you tell them why it was fifteen minutes late? That’s a funny story, don’t you think?” I slapped him on the back. “Don’t you, Albert old buddy?” Slowly, he turned around on the bench and looked up at me. His shoulders slumped over in defeat. I had
second time in only minutes, Mr. Rose pulled up a chair beside me. Then he sat there breathing real slowly like he was trying to keep from losing his temper. I felt insulted, if you want to know the truth. I mean, I know that directors have to put up with a lot of little brats, but I still don’t think I should have been treated as one of them. After all, we’re talking about a cat saliva problem here. After he got his breathing under control, Mr. Rose put his hand on my shoulder. “Listen, my