3 Yeti Alert!

Yeti Alert!

"Please?" Stink begged. "Pretty please with Screamin' Mimi's ice cream on top?" "Forget it. I'm not going to thumb-wrestle. Mom and Dad said you have to play a sport." "Thumb-wrestling is on the sports channel. Thumb-wrestling has all three S's: Strength, stamina, and strategy." "Do you even know what that means?" Judy asked. "Hel-lo! I read the S encyclopedia." "Trust me, Stink. Mom and Dad are not going to go for thumb-wrestling." "That's why I have to wow them with my amazing skill. For serious. If I practice a bunch, I can win the Ultimate Thumb-Wrestling Thmackdown." "Thorry," Judy teased. "I have homework." She bounced a bouncy ball off the wall. "Homework? You're just bouncing a ball."

"I'm counting how many times I can bounce it off the wall— 107, 108, 109— without dropping it. Like a science experiment."

"Your science experiment could be to see how many times you can beat your little brother at thumb-wrestling." "Stink. You're wrecking my concentration." Stink did not stop talking. "Did you know that thumb-wrestling goes way-way-way back to the time of the Romans?" "Uh-huh. 110, 111, 112, 113." "Back then, they thumb-wrestled in a big stadium. Bazillions of people came to watch." "Uh-huh." 114, 115, 116 "And they thumb-wrestled to the death." Judy stopped bouncing the ball. "That is SO not true. People don't die from thumb-wrestling." "They wrestled to the death... of the thumb. You were the loser when your thumbnail turned all black and gross and fell off. Then the winner took the gross thumbnail and ran around the arena with it. The crowds went wild and yelled, 'All hail the thumbnail.'" "Stink, you lie like a guy with a booger in his eye." "Nah-uh. I swear." He held up his left thumb. "Thumb-wrestler's honor. Now that you know

how cool and gross it is, will you thumb-wrestle me?" "Still no." "Not even if I give you my Liberty Bell postcard and my Ocean Breeze Water Park squished penny?" "You've got to come up with something better than that, Stink." "I promise not to put my smelly feet on you for one whole entire week." "Tempting," said Judy. She flung the ball against the wall extra hard. "Never mind. I'm stronger anyway." "Are not," said Judy. "Am too," said Stink. "Are not." "Prove it," said Stink. "Prove it like Nancy Drew." "Okay, I give. But remember, I'm up to 128." Judy set the ball down. Stink put on Shark Hammersmash. Judy drew a way-moody mood face on her thumbnail. "Shark Hammersmash, meet Manta Ray Moody."

Judy and Stink locked fingers. "May the best thumb win," said Judy. "One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war!" In two seconds flat, Judy crushed Stink's thumb with her index finger. "I win!" she shouted. "No fair! Fingers are against the law. The first Rule of Thumb is no snakes, bugs, trapdoors, or sidekicks. And definitely NO Santa's Little Helper." "Huh?" "No sneak attacks from fingers. Just thumbs." "Fine. But you're goin' down, Shark Hammersmash. You're goin' down so far, your undies will be dragging in the dirt." Stink ducked his thumb. "The Manta Ray is gonna crush you like ice, Shark. You're a snow cone." "I am not a snow cone. Stop saying stuff."