6. The Next Picasso

6 The Next Picasso I thought that would be the end of it. We went back to class and did math, social studies, and reading with Miss Banks. Then it was time for dismissal, and I took the bus home. Everything was normal. It was almost time for dinner. That's when the weirdest thing in the history of the world happened.

The doorbell rang. Well, that's not the weird part. Doorbells ring all the time. The weird part was what happened after that. I looked through the little peephole in the door. And do you know who was standing on our front steps? It was Professor Armpit! I opened the door. "Artlo!" he said. "What are you doing here?" I asked him. "I have come to introduce you to the art world!" he said dramatically. "Uh, I have homework..." "Homework can wait!" Professor Armpit said. Sounded good to me. I hate doing homework. At that point, my parents came in from the kitchen. "Did I hear the doorbell ring?" my mother asked. "I'm here to talk about your son," said

Professor Armpit. "What did he do now?" asked my mom. "Has he been kicked out of school?" asked my dad. "No!" Professor Armpit said with a laugh. "I'm Professor Pitt from the Museum of Recent Art. Your son has created the most groundbreaking sculpture I've seen in years. He's an artistic genius!"

"Are you sure you have the right

address?" asked my dad. "Blah blah blah blah the next big thing," said Professor Armpit. "Blah blah blah blah prodigy blah blah blah blah once in a lifetime blah blah blah blah..." Somehow, Professor Armpit convinced my parents that I was the next Picasso. He said he wanted to take us to a party in my honor at an art gallery. "We were about to sit down for dinner," my dad said. "A.J. is an artist?" said my mom, getting her coat. "This I gotta see. Dinner can wait. Let's go!" We drove a million hundred miles until we got to the art gallery. I said I was hungry, and Professor Armpit told me the gallery would have some things called "oar derves," whatever they are. As soon as we walked inside, I could see the gallery was filled with a bunch of art nerds like Professor Armpit, wearing capes and berets. Everybody burst into applause

when I came into the room. My dumb paint tube was taped to a white wall. And do you know what was on the table? A bowl of pretzels! I made a beeline for the pretzels and stuffed my face. "Attention, art lovers!" announced Professor Armpit. Everybody got quiet. "I'd like to introduce you to Artlo, the young genius I told you about." "Well, if the esteemed Professor Pitt says the boy is a genius," some guy said, "it must be true." "Speech! Speech!" somebody shouted. "Let the young genius speak!" Everybody was staring at me. I wanted to run away to Antarctica and go live with the penguins. "Uh... Bonjour!" I said. Then I went over and whispered into Professor Armpit's ear, "I don't know what