Stink And the Ultimate Thumb-Wrestling Smackdown
“said a girl with a yin-yang headband. “I’m Izzy. I’m an orange belt, so I help new kids.”
Stink breathed it all in. One whole wall was a mirror. Black-and-orange training mats covered the floor. Foam-covered punching bags stood guard in the corner. On the wall were the words: RESPECT. CONFIDENCE. FOCUS. SELF-DEFENSE. BETTER GRADES.
“Take off your shoes,” said Izzy. Stink kicked off his smelly sneakers. He stepped onto the mat in his sock feet. His feet went flying.
Izzy laughed. “Yo...u just learned your first move: the Flying Butt Fall.”
“I see our new student is off to a flying start,” joked a guy with shaggy hair and a black belt. Stink picked himself up.
“Stink Moody,” said Izzy, “this is our teacher, Mr. Albion. We call him Sensei Dan.”
Sensei Dan bowed to Stink. “Hello. Welcome. Take off your socks, Stink Moody.MoreLess
Stink breathed it all in. One whole wall was a mirror. Black-and-orange training mats covered the floor. Foam-covered punching bags stood guard in the corner. On the wall were the words: RESPECT. CONFIDENCE. FOCUS. SELF-DEFENSE. BETTER GRADES.
“Take off your shoes,” said Izzy. Stink kicked off his smelly sneakers. He stepped onto the mat in his sock feet. His feet went flying.
Izzy laughed. “Yo...u just learned your first move: the Flying Butt Fall.”
“I see our new student is off to a flying start,” joked a guy with shaggy hair and a black belt. Stink picked himself up.
“Stink Moody,” said Izzy, “this is our teacher, Mr. Albion. We call him Sensei Dan.”
Sensei Dan bowed to Stink. “Hello. Welcome. Take off your socks, Stink Moody.MoreLess
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