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Class out of control? Will no regular substitute dare enter the fourth-grade classroom? It's time to press the red button under the office clock to summon Miss Subway, the substitute of last resort. This sub has the right gadgets in her canvas bag to put the fourth-graders back in order.

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1. The Red Button

“I quit! No more! Enough is enough! So long! Adios! Bye-bye! Don’t ever call me to sub in that fourth-grade classroom again! Ever! Never! Forever!”
Mr. Muddle, principal of May Day Elementary School, smiled at the large woman standing on the far side of the office counter. He checked the clock on the wall. “But school just started twenty minutes ago,” he said.
The woman’s face was pale. Her jaw trembled, and her eyes were as round as quarters. “That…that
class!” she said. “They’re...they’re like a swarm of killer bees…like a pack of wild coyotes in pants and T-shirts.”
“Yes, they do work well together,” said the principal. “Please don’t leave. I need you. The school needs you.”
As he spoke, an explosion sounded from the direction of the fourth-grade classroom. The office walls rattled, and the smell of rotten eggs filled the air.
The woman shook her head. “I…I can’t take it anymore.”
“Yes, you can,” Mr. Muddle said. “Since my fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Misses, went on sick leave, twelve substitutes have been in that classroom. They all managed to take it...ah...remain for at least a few hours.”
The substitute started toward the school exit. “That class!” she repeated. “They are like vultures…hungry, scavenging vultures!”
“I’ll pay you double,” the principal begged. “I’ll throw in a free lunch! No yard duty!”
At this point the sound of drumming, perhaps a dozen students banging on their desktops, rolled down the hallway.
“I’ll even throw in an all-expense-paid trip to Hawaii over Spring Break if you stay,” Mr. Muddle added.
“Never!
Ever! Forever!” the woman said. And she was out the door.
The principal sighed. He turned toward Cassandra, the school secretary, who sat at her cluttered desk in the middle of the office.
“What’ll we do?” he said. “What
will we do?”
The slender, white-haired secretary shrugged. “I’ve called every substitute on the substitute list,” she said.
“How about subs in the next county?” asked Mr. Muddle.
“No one will come,” said Cassandra, slowly shaking her head. “Your fourth-grade is renowned throughout the state.”
The principal nodded. “Today I’ve invited the district counselor to observe that class,” he said. “Once he sees how they behave, I’m sure he’ll allow me to split those students up, send some of them to another school.”
A scream came from down the hall.
“Well, you picked a good day for the counselor to come,” said Cassandra. “That team of twenty terrors is in top form.”
Mr. Muddle placed a hand on the secretary’s shoulder. “Dear Cassandra. Sweet, kind Cassandra, you wouldn’t perhaps…”
“Oh, no! You don’t expect
me to sub in that classroom. Remember the last time I stood in for Mrs. Misses. That slew of sub-slayers stapled me to the bulletin board before I could take attendance.”
The principal rubbed his chin. “Right.”
Now loud chanting came from the fourth-grade classroom. “
Subtract all subs! Subtract all subs!”
“And don’t dare ask Mr. Squeegee,” said the secretary. “When our poor custodian substituted the fourth grade, that group of rowdy ruffians wrapped him in Scotch tape from head to toe.”
“Right.”
Mr. Muddle paced from one end of the office to the other. Finally, he stopped before a small metal cupboard under the clock. “There’s only one thing left to do,” he said solemnly.
Cassandra’s eyes widened. “ No! Has it come to that?”
The principal nodded. He reached under his collar and pulled out a key that hung around his neck. “The last resort,” he said.
He inserted the key into a lock on the cupboard door and opened it. Inside was a red button. Above the button shown the words:

WARNING!
PUSH ONLY AS LAST RESORT!

A rat-tat-tat, a crash, and the smashing of glass came from the hallway.
“I’ve been secretary at this school for thirty years,” said Cassandra. “No principal has ever pressed that red button.”
“This school has never had a class like our fourth grade,” said Mr. Muddle.
“But what will happen?” asked the secretary.
“I’ve no idea. Every school office has a last-resort button such as this one. But I’ve never known a principal who would admit to pressing it.”
Meanwhile, the fourth-grade drumming and chanting grew louder. “
Sink all subs! Sink all subs!
“Well, if you’re going to press it, press it,” said Cassandra. “Let’s just get through this day. Then you can start breaking up that bunch of bad bananas.”
Mr. Muddle placed his index finger on the red button. “Yes, the last resort,” he said under his breath. “One…two…three.”
Press.
From some far off place a school bell rang. Two seconds later, the fourth-grade classroom went silent.

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Contents

1. The Red Button
2. The Seating Chart
3. Desk Spray
4. Voice Control Remote
5. New Pencils and Other Stuff
6. Taking Away Recess
7. Yard Duty
8. Blowing Her Top
9. Lunch
10. PE
11. Bubble Tag
12. Field Trip
13. To the Line
14. Capturing the Flag
15. The Assembly
16. Disassembly
17. Class in a Box
18. A New Ring Tone
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