Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Dog Days Page #5

- Oh, good.

- Come on, Sweetie.

Good, good, good, good.

I got it!

Don't let him have that.

Sweetie!

Don't let him have that! Don't eat that!

Is that... dog spit?

How could there be so much?

- Susan!

- Mom!

You go clean the house.

I'll clean the roast! Go!

You boys barely touched your pot roast.

Are you kidding? I'm stuffed.

I filled up on vegetables.

More for us, then.

I don't know what you did different...

but this pot roast is unbelievable.

Chef's secret.

Great.

And juicier!

And you are?

I'm Roland Gropper.

Have a nice day, Roland.

Okay, you told one lie.

I can accept that.

But this is getting out of control.

I think you have a lying problem.

I didn't lie about coming to the club today!

We didn't even talk today.

And how do you keep getting in here

without me?

Wait. You're not a member?

Anyone want a smoothie?

I don't care whether you're a member...

but why sneak in?

I wanted to hang out with you.

I gave you my phone number.

Why not just call me?

I tried, but I only had half the number,

and...

I'm freaking out!

The D.J. For my Sweet Sixteen canceled...

so he can fly to Africa

to help build a hospital. What a jerk!

Now what do I do for music? Whistle?

What about live music?

Do you know the band Lded Diper?

That's a gross name.

Live music would be really cool!

You'd be the first at our school

to have a real band.

That's true.

They're just coming off a world tour

and are in town.

I could get them to come as a favor for me.

What kind of music do they play?

Anything! They can play anything.

Where were you?

Rodrick, you are going to owe me

the rest of your life.

I got Lded Diper a gig...

playing at Heather Hills' Sweet Sixteen.

Really?

Lded Diper activate.

- You have her favorite song.

- Song, check.

- She wants you in tuxes.

- Tuxes, check.

You're ignoring

everything I'm saying, aren't you?

Ignoring you, check.

Don't worry, little bro. It's going to be

a good show. The best.

Rowley! What are you doing next week?

Lded Diper needs roadies!

How can you stand to be near me

when I lied?

- What?

- I'm a liar.

You can never trust me again.

The sacred bond of our friendship

is broken.

Rowley, I get it.

You didn't want to hurt my feelings.

And I didn't mean to get you

in trouble with the Cranium Shaker.

That's all right.

It was actually pretty fun.

Now we can say we've really lived.

So what about the gig?

I've always wanted to be a roadie!

Rise and shine, buddy!

Don't want to be late for work.

I'll drop you off at the way to the office,

okay?

Now Holly knows I'm not a member,

there's no reason

to sneak into the country club.

But if my dad finds out I don't really have

a job, my life won't be worth living.

Thanks, Dad.

I'm even considering telling him

I got downsized.

But I don't think he'll like it.

The thing is, I'm using...

so many identities,

I'm having trouble keeping track of them.

This bill is five times the normal amount.

I'm sorry, Mr. Jefferson,

but your son has been ordering

a lot of smoothies this month.

There he is now.

That is not my son.

Of course. That's Roland Gropper.

Good morning, Arthur!

Hey, Rowley!

Rowley! My man! What's up?

Hey! You forgot your sunblock.

Frank Heffley.

Your son racked up a lot of charges

on my account.

What? He works here. Tell him.

There must be some mistake.

We don't employ minors.

Do you not work here?

Maybe not.

$260 worth of smoothies?

What were you thinking?

I didn't know you get charged

for what you order.

I'll pay.

Very good, sir.

Aren't you going to yell at me?

Aren't you mad?

No.

I'm just disappointed.

We've got some serious trouble.

Not you. Me.

Yeah, mostly you.

Look what I found in the mail.

Welcome, prospective parents,

to Spag Union Preparatory School.

Through these gates is a world in which

your boy will learn to thrive.

Here we will impress upon him

our three cornerstones to success:

Intensive study, physical exercise,

and, of course, discipline.

I used to play video games.

I was playing all the time...

sometimes two hours a day.

I'd lie to my parents

and tell them I was studying when...

really, I'd sneak to the mall

to hang out with my friends.

My parents sent me to Spag Union.

I don't waste my time

with video games anymore.

Spag Union taught me there's more

adventure to be found in a good book.

I don't lie about where I am anymore.

Thanks to Spag Union

and the tracking device around my ankle,

my parents know...

where I am 24/7.

Spag Union, turning irresponsible

little boys into men since 1925.

Spag Union!

They're going to send you there.

I really messed up.

What do I do?

Wilderness weekend!

You have 48 hours to prove to Dad

you don't need Spag Union.

How?

By being the all-time best

Wilderness Explorer there ever was.

You can't go to Spag Union!

I don't want to go to school without you!

It's not really my choice.

You got it? Is it solid?

Yes, sir!

"Sir"?

What are you doing?

This is where my troops set up!

Come on, Stan.

There's plenty of good sites.

Give me a break. You don't know

the first thing about camping.

You know the rules, Stan. Whoever gets

here first gets the pick of the campsites.

The best way to lay claim to a camp

is to put tents on it.

Explorers! Install camp!

Hey, wait. Wait!

Here, come on, come on, come on!

Hold it up!

- Put it on!

- I'm trying!

Not here, over there!

Move! Get the front!

Sorry, Frank.

Doesn't look like there's any room...

for troops here,

but there's still plenty of good sites.

Yeah, it's mighty convenient

being so close to the bathrooms.

You all know the story

of the muddy hand, don't you?

It was a dark and stormy night,

like this one.

It is not stormy.

In these very woods,

an old woodsman, a kindly soul...

was chopping wood in the rain for

a group of Wilderness Explorers.

- So what happened?

- Nothing.

If you consider the old woodsman

chopping off his own hand was nothing!

- Didn't the Wilderness Explorers help him?

- No.

They got scared and ran away.

Why would they do that?

Back at camp, the boys got to talking.

They decided that they should have

helped the old woodsman

because he was helping them.

But when they got back to his cottage,

his body was gone!

Gone?

All that was left...

was his hand!

I don't like this story.

Not one of those boys was ever seen again.

The only clue to what happened was

a muddy handprint on the side of the tent.

They say the muddy hand

is still out there...

looking for more Wilderness Explorers...

and...

revenge!

I don't buy it.

How can a hand move by itself?

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