Beware the Fisj by Gordon Korman

Headmistress.
    From room 200 in Dormitory 2, Coach Flynn’s head appeared. “Shut up out there!” he bellowed. He took in the wild scene and exclaimed in horror, “What the heck is going on?”
    “It’s Al!” cried Cathy. “Hi, Al!”
    “Are you all crazy?” shouted Flynn. “Get off our campus! Go back where you belong!”
    “Release me!” shrilled Miss Scrimmage once more.
    Bruno finally scrambled out the door of Dormitory 3.
    “Walton!” yelled Flynn. “What are you doing out of bed?”
    “There’s one of them!” cried Miss Scrimmage. “Stop, thief!” She pulled herself loose and, arms waving, began to chase Bruno around the building. A crowd of her girls followed, screaming for her to come back. Boots darted after them.
    Bruno gulped as he ran. Approaching on the dead run was a familiar figure in a red silk dressing gown and bedroom slippers. It was Mr. Sturgeon.
    “Hello, sir,” panted Bruno as they met.
    The Headmaster thrust Bruno behind him, held up both hands and announced quietly and firmly, “Stop this
at once
!”
    Boots ran up and joined Bruno behind Mr. Sturgeon.
    “Now,” cried Miss Scrimmage triumphantly, “proof at last! Your boys robbed our school!”
    “Miss Scrimmage …” began Cathy uneasily.
    The Headmistress pointed to Dormitory 3. “There is where they stashed the loot! Just have a look inside!”
    “I believe I will,” responded a grim-faced Mr. Sturgeon in a controlled voice. The crowd parted to let him through. He walked around the corner of the building to the front door and looked inside. His jaw dropped in amazement. About fifty of his students were inside, wallowing in a sea of shiny pop cans. The scene resembled a battle in a bad science-fiction movie.
    Miss Scrimmage caught up to him. “You see? They stole my girls’ souvenirs from —” She stopped in mid-sentence to stare at the spectacle.
    Cathy nudged Diane. “Boy, oh boy,” she whispered. “The soda pop is going to hit the fan now.”
    Mr. Sturgeon cleared his throat purposefully. “You boys come out of there at once.”
    “I’m trying, sir!” cried Sidney Rampulsky, hopelessly attempting to swim to the door.
    Mr. Sturgeon turned to Miss Scrimmage. “As you can see,” he said icily, “
nothing
has been stolen from your school. In the interests of peace and quiet, then, I think the best thing for you to do is to depart.” His face turned momentarily red, indicating suppressed anger. “
At once
, if you please.”
    Miss Scrimmage gathered up her staff and students and began to march towards home.
    Mr. Sturgeon turned to his boys. “You will all go to your beds immediately.” The boys began to scatter, grateful to be out of the Headmaster’s presence. “Walton, O’Neal, not you. I will see you in my office.”
    “But, sir,” protested Bruno, “the Faculty Building is locked up for the night.”
    “I am entrusted with a key,” replied Mr. Sturgeon, producing a key ring from his dressing gown pocket. “Come with me. We shall discuss this while it is still fresh in our minds.”
    Silently Bruno and Boots followed the Headmaster into the darkened Faculty Building. Mr. Sturgeon switched on the lights in his office and led the boys inside. Instinctively, they seated themselves on the bench.
    Mr. Sturgeon closed the door and began pacing in front of them, his backless slippers flapping loudly. “Now,” he said grimly, “I want an explanation. From the beginning. Everything. Omit nothing. A complete and concise summary of all the events leading up to the presence of that abomination in our dormitory!”
    There was an awful silence.
    “Come, come!” Mr. Sturgeon prodded. “You cannot possibly get into any more trouble than you are already in! I wish to know this instant why our dormitory is burgeoning with aluminum cans!”
    “Well, sir,” began Bruno. There seemed no way out of it, and he was about to resort to the truth. “It’s like this. We were —”
    There was the sound of