Barftastic Excerpt

7/29/2019 Barftastic Excerpt

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Farrar Straus GirouxFarrar Straus Giroux New YorkNew York

by JENNYMEYERHOFFwithpictures by JASONWEEK


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Presidents Challenge fitness test, and I sprained

my armpit. I guess Ill never be president.

I pause for a minute to let the crowd laugh. Today

the crowd is made up of shoes, T-shirts, and post-

ers of my favorite comedians, especially my idol,

Lou Lafferman.

Im about to deliver my bit about school


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cafeterias when I hear a knock at the door, and my

dad bursts in. Instantly I feel naked with nothing

but a microphone stand to hide behind. I dive off

the stage, land in my beanbag chair, and grab a

Nutso magazine.

Dad raises an eyebrow. My magazine is up-

side down. I toss it on the floor and fold my arms

across my chest. Youre supposed to wait until I

say come in.

Sorry. I forgot. He steps back outside and

knocks again.

I roll my eyes. Come in.Dad slips inside, sits on the floor, and smiles at

me. Im glad youre using the stage. Are you ready

to show me your act?

Not yet. I squirm. Its not finished.

Seriously. Ive only been working on it for two

years. You cant rush comedy.

My dad nods slowly, and I blush. Theres one

problem with my dream of becoming a world-

famous comedian. Im too chicken to show anyone

my act. Whats the deal with stage fright? Its not


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like the stage is going to bite me or give me a wed-

gie. It would make more sense to have audience

fright.

Actually, I have that, too.

I slump off the beanbag and onto the floor.

Sorry you wasted your time building the stage.

Dad made me the coolest stage any kid has ever

had in his closet: shiny black, with neon silhou-

ettes of laughing people painted around the sides.

Theres a silver curtain for the backdrop, too, ex-

actly like the one on Lou Laffermans Laff Nite. It

took us three whole days to make, and I didnteven have to ask for it. Dad heard me mention how

cool it would be to have a stage like Lous, how it

would make me feel like a real comedian, and

boom, next thing you know, were building a stage.

Dad squeezes my shoulder. Im glad we built it.

I bet now that you have the stage, youll be ready

to perform for an audience in no time. Maybe if

my parents had pushed me when I was your age, I

would already be a successful artist, instead of a

forty-year-old beginner.


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the back of the room, Youre so funny I forgot to

laugh! Its the same way he heckled me in third

grade when I told knock-knock jokes for show-

and-tell.

Too many

people, I say.

Dad nods his head sympathetically, and I sigh

in relief. Then he says, Start smaller. Do your act

for me.

Even one person feels like too many. My dad

might not laugh. A shoes, T-shirts, and baseball-

cap crowd is much safer. My throats dry.

I understand. Maybe another time. Dad gets


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up and puts his hand on the doorknob. Tomor-

rows a big day. You nervous?

Tomorrow is the first day of fifth grade. I should

be nervous, since Ryan Rakefield is in my class.

Again. But I actually feel excited about school this

year because my best friend is finally in my class,

too. Nick Yamashita. First time ever!

Nah, I say. Not with Nick in my class.

Ive got a big day tomorrow, too.

You do? I turn my head to look up at him. He

has a lot more hair in his nostrils than I remem-

bered. I bet it keeps his boogers warm.Im meeting with a gallery owner.

But Mom said it would beyears before you start

to sell your work.

My dad tilts his head and gives me a curious

look. She did?

Uh . . . I scratch my head. I think that was

supposed to be a secret.

Eight weeks ago my dad was a vice president of

strategic marketing. Then his company decided

they didnt need so many vice presidents. They


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gave him a pile of money, though, so Dad decided

to try his dream of being an artist, and Mom

decided to go back to work. She also gave Ariella,

Ruby, and me a million talks about saving money,

helping around the house, and being patient and

supportive.

No. Wait. Im confused, I say to my dad. I

think she said days.

Dad rubs his left temple. I dont think he be-

lieves me, and I worry that what I said to him was

the junk artist version ofYoure so funny I forgot to

laugh. I want to take it back.Uh, Dad, I say before I can stop myself, maybe

I could do my act for you tomorrow. After school.

Youre on! My dads happiness almost cancels

out the cold, clammy feeling spreading down my

neck. He snaps his fingers. Lets make a pact. Ill

take the art world by storm, and youll become a

comedy showstopper.

My dad does jazz hands and Groucho Marx eye-

brows as if to say Whaddaya think?

Im not sure. I want to be a comedian more than


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anything in the world, but what if . . . what if Im

not funny?

Dont leave me hanging, Louie! My dad

clutches at his chest. Lets help each other out to-

morrow. The Burger men have to stick together.

Okay, I say. Ill try. I put out my hand, and

my dad grabs it and shakes.

I hope I can live up to my end of the bargain.


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The Barftastic Life of Louie BurgerThe Barftastic Life of Louie BurgerA Comedy SketchbookA Comedy SketchbookBy Louie Burger (obviously)By Louie Burger (obviously)

The Scientific Evidence That Proves

I Am a Comedian

Exhibit A:Exhibit A: Im funny looking. I have curly orange hair.Im skinnier than a jump rope and my ears stick out a

mile. Im also completely uncoordinated. Need I say more?

Exhibit B :Exhibit B: I play the accordion.Exhibit C:Exhibit C: Im strangely connected to many famouscomedians. My initials are the same as Lucille Balls. My

birthday is the same as Charlie Chaplins. And Im from the

same town as Bill Murray. Also, I have the same first name

as Lou Lafferman, the greatest comedian in the history of

comedians.

Exhibit D:Exhibit D: I already have my own catchphrase: barftastic!It means amazingtimes fantasticplus unbelievable.

Squared.


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TOAST FORDINNER

TOAST FORDINNER

When we sit down for dinner, Dad pulls a bot-

tle of sparkling apple cider out from under his

seat. I propose a toast! he says.

Barftastic! Sparkling apple cider is one step awayfrom soda. My mom doesnt usually let us have

fizzy drinks.

Dad stands up, unscrews the cap, fills five wine-

glasses, and hands them out.

My mother laughs. David, what is this about?

Tomorrow is a big day in the Burger household.

Dad raises a glass. To Moms return to teaching

high school gym.

We all take sips from our glasses, and bubbles

fizz up my nose.

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Barftastic Excerpt