Some things you can’t escape, however hard you try — like dentist appointments, visits with strange-smelling relatives, and being in the fourth-grade play. I had always left the acting to my smart-aleck pal, Natalie, but then one day it was my turn in the spotlight.
Stage fright? Me? You’re talking about a gecko who has laughed at danger, chuckled at catastrophe, and sneezed at sinister plots.
I was terrified.
Not because of the acting, mind you. The script called for me to share a major lip-lock with Shirley Chameleon — Cootie Queen of the Universe!
And while I was trying to avoid that trap, a simple missing-persons case took a turn for the worse — right into the middle of my play. Would opening night spell curtains for my client? And more importantly, would someone invent a cure for cooties? But no matter what happens, the sleuth must go on.
All the world's a stage, and all the players are suspects . . . Plenty of satisfying silliness in the cast of buffoonish teachers, Chet's tough-guy appeal, and the usual repertoire of painfully corny puns and similes.
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