The next day, Mena scarfed down her frosted rainbow sugar puff cereal at the breakfast cloud. She allocated as much space in her cheeks to hold the marshmallow sugar clusters before swishing it down with purple milk. She had gotten the clear from her doctor that her body was rid of all Mal-Essence and she could continue her classes as planned. Mena celebrated by guzzling down as much food as she could.

“What’s up with you, Mena?” Janus asked, eating cereal that soon fell out of her ribcage. “You’re hungrier than me. And I’m nothing but bones.”

Mena took a second to swallow a bowl’s worth of food so she could talk properly. “You don’t get it, Janus. When you’re so full of yourself, you don’t want to eat anything. And you don’t have any taste either.”

“Going by the books you were writing, I get that,” Janus said wryly, putting a skeletal hand on Mena’s shoulder.

If Mena was still chocked up on power, she would have snapped at Janus, but she merely gave a sad chuckle. “Anywho,” Mena responded, gazing out the window. “What are we going to do about the contest, now that it’s a bust for me?”

May smiled with her dimples out. “I’m going to continue writing. I’ve been writing this whole time anyway. That way we can reach Penwell and find out the truth.”

“What truth?” Mena and Janus asked.

May placed her thick fingers together and leaned on the table. “Mena, you mentioned something about a robed figure giving you a copy of Penwell’s latest book. But we never figured out who that was, or if Penwell had anything to do with the book.”

“But how do we know that it wasn’t a jinxed book?” Mena asked, shrugging her shoulders.

“Because,” May said, her eyes glinting behind her circular glasses. “It had the Official Barking Seal of Approval. Only certified authors in Wormwood can apply that since it utilizes a unique imagicnation print for each patent.”

“Whoaaaa,” Mena said, “You are blowing my mind, May. How did you figure all that out?”

May looked at her paralyzed legs. “I got a lot of downtime sadly.”

“You know what May,” Mena said, smiling fondly. “I’d be proud if you won this contest for us. Especially since I realize…”—Mena looked down into her cereal—“I’m not that good of a writer. I kept exaggerating and exaggerating about myself until I had written myself out of my own life story and created a terrible new character.”

“No worries,” May responded and pulled Mena closer to her. “The number one rule of fiction: Keep yourself grounded and relatable, maybe even a bit basic.”

Mena sighed and rolled her eyes. “Well, you know me, they had to design a new litmus test for the level of basic I am.”

“And that’s why we love you,” said both Janus and May at once.

Mena grinned. “I know,” she said bluntly.

Both Janus and May flinched over her words, before Mena added, “I mean, I love you guys too.”

“Phew, you scared me for a second,” May giggled. “I thought you were relapsing.”

Janus added in her flighty voice. “I hate to burst the balloon at our lovefest but how are we going to get the ticket to Wormwood now? Mena’s disqualified from WCAL, remember?”

“Drat rats,” Mena said burying her bowl of cereal. “At least we got til Septober to figure that one out.”

As the first bell chimed, Mena gulped, realizing what period was next: Nebula’s Gym Class of Endless Reps and Physical Torture. As she parted with her friends, she headed down to the locker room where Ashlan headed her off.

“Hey Rainy,” she said with a surprisingly kind smile. “I’m happy you’re back in action and not being possessed by evil books anymore.”

Before Mena could respond, a sharp, irate, and highly snooty voice screeched at her. “Ashlan,” Laetitia shouted, stamping her feet as her twin sister struggled to get her gym shirt over her elven ears. “Zere are two things I despise in zis world: peasants and people who talk to zee peasants. Get over here.”

Ashlan proceeded over like a lion that was wet behind the ears. Laetitia placed her manicured fingers together with a sinister smile. “I ‘eard you were cheating as usual,” the Bourgelf said to Mena. “Leave it to an inferior ground peasant to want to con zee magic system for their own gain.”

Mena bit her tongue and headed over to her locker, but Laetitia continued. “Zere will be no book to save you this time. You will ‘ave your cake of retribution and eat it too. Come on sister, let us hold our hand to our mouths and laugh at this peasant.”

In perfect unison, the Bougelves laughed at Mena with their hands to their mouths. Ashlan attempted to do it too, but nearly grazed her face with her pointed claw. Mena audibly gulped. There was only one thing standing between her and the E.R. and it was her skinny fat, rainbow-frosted-sugar-puff body.

As Mena changed into her gym shorts and t-shirt with all the energy of someone getting dressed for a funeral, Nebula blew into her whistle so hard it sounded like a bull horn. “Front and center, liccan nuggets,” she screamed as Mena pulled her baggy shirt over her shorts.

Mena breathed out as she tied her hair back in a ponytail. “Here goes nothing,” she said to herself, and she ran outside to face her imminent doom.

As Mena got out into the gym, the first thing she noticed was everyone had lined up at the Bone-Cracking Face-Crunching Rump Bumper course. But the second thing she noticed was that Nebula had modified it to be even more Bone Cracking, Face Crunching, and Rump Bumping. Now the spiked barricades were complimented with spiked floors and ceilings that crunched into each other in an interlocking fashion, the burning hoop of blue fire was now augmented with green fire, purple fire and turquoise fire—it baffled Mena’s mind which one was the hottest—and now ‘Phil’ the troll had a companion named ‘Philomena’ an equally ugly troll in a blond wig. She looked suspiciously a lot like one of the trolls Bubbel, Toila and Karen employed for their fake group of magical moms.

Nebula was pacing back and forth counting each student by tapping them on the head. “Do you know why I’m taking a headcount?” Nebula asked in her low pitched but boastful voice. “Because I want to make sure they’re all accounted for at the end of the class.”

One of the girls tried to run away, but Nebula grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt and pulled her back. “Any takers on the Crackier, Crunchier, Bumpier Course II: Nebula Boogaloo?”

“I’ll go,” Janus said, boldly stepping up. “As I said, I’m already dead.”

“Very good, Bones,” Nebula said with a toothy smile and extended her hand towards the wall. A broomstick flew over and Nebula caught it. She distributed it to Janus who mounted it.

Janus stepped onto the platform and with a gleeful smile, she exclaimed, “Don’t worry my friends, death is not the end.”

She hopped on the broom, levitating in the air and zoomed quickly to her first obstacle: the spiked barricades. Much to Mena’s surprise, Janus was quite nimble and her bony frame sailed in between the walls, floors and ceilings crashing into each other. Everyone applauded as Nebula gaped in amazement at Janus’ skill.

Next were the rings of multi-layered burning fire, but Janus continued to zoom through them with an increased momentum. Mena had no idea her friend was so talented. Janus looked back in glee over her job well done, but the applause quickly stopped. “JANUS, LOOK OUT,” Mena screamed as a troll swung a pointed stick at her friend’s head. Janus’ head detached in from her neck bone and soared through the air. “Head’s up,” she screamed, before her head landed right in Mena’s arms.

“Hi Mena,” Janus said. Once her eyes stopped pinwheeling around in her head she was dreamy as ever, even when headless. “Seems I lost my head back there.”

Mena gasped in horror as Nebula grinned sadistically. “That’s one head down. Who’s next?”

Nebula’s bright blue eyes surveyed the crowd of terrified girls, and then she looked directly at Mena. Mena squeaked in horror. “You know what, how about you? I’d love to see how well you fare.”

Once the girls retrieved Janus’ wandering body and reattached her head, Nebula grabbed another broom and handed it to Mena. “Umm professor?” Mena asked timidly.

“Yes?” Nebula responded.

“Umm,” Mena said, looking around helplessly. “I’m sorry about lying about my strength.”

“You what?” Nebula asked, her eyes now skeptically wide.

“Remember how I wrote myself as stronger than I actually was last gym class?”

Nebula’s frowned, then gave a belly laugh and whacked Mena on the back. “Hah, I don’t even remember that. I get conked on the head so much that I don’t even remember things sometimes. Either way, I’m sure you’ll be a great mini-pig for my course.”

Mena wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or terrified. Probably both, but as Nebula handed Mena her broom, she finally came in touch with the cold, hard truth. She hadn’t ever ridden a broom for real and now she couldn’t write it about herself either.