![]() ![]() Jackbot trotted forward and handed George his glasses using his left-hand suction grip. ![]() That was-uh-a little extreme, George said. The bugle gave a final despairing wail, then fell silent. ![]() OF ALL THE GOOD-FOR-NOTHING, INSUBORDINATE-īits of metal and plastic flew across the room. Jackbot scooped up the alarm clock in his right pincer and placed it on the floor. Yes, George, he said in his expressionless mechanical voice. Jackbot’s head tilted toward the bed, and his green eyes flashed. The door opened, and three feet of scrap and spare parts rattled into the room on wobbly legs. George plugged his fingers into his ears. The clock started blaring a recording of a bugle from across the room on George’s desk. George had tried to reprogram his Sergeant Wake-Me-Up clock to speak in a gentle, feminine voice, but something must have gone wrong. The light that filled the room was blinding. ON THE FLOOR AND GIVE ME TWENTY, PEA BRAIN! George Gearing opened his eyes and, still half asleep, lifted his head from the pillow. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available. For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 215 Park Avenue South, New York, New York 10003. Series created by Working Partners LimitedĪll rights reserved. Copyright © 2014 by Working Partners Limited ![]()
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