接一楼，继续。
“No,” J.J. said. “But my dad made me listen to one of his stories.”
“My dad tells them, too. If I interrupt him he starts all over again.”
“So does mine,” J.J. said. “It’s better when they yell.”
“My sister never gets into trouble,” Patrick said.
“She’s such a pain.”
“Mine, too. I get blamed for everything.”
Patrick kicked at a pile of leaves. “In my old school, someone threw a slice of pizza in the cafeteria.”
“I ducked and it hit the aide in the head. The principal called my dad.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. And when we had a substitute teacher, we hid all the chalk. She never came back to our class.”
“I do stuff like that all the time.” J.J. paused and tilted his head.
“How’d you got so fat?”
“I’m on a diet. My uncle’s paying me a dollar for every pound I lose.”
“You could be a millionaire.”
Patrick smiled. “My uncle is rich. He owns a restaurant. Ever hear of the arm wrestler, Muscles Max?”
“Sure!”
“He eats there all the time. Muscles Max autographed my shirt – right on my back.”
“Cool.”
“My uncle takes me to arm wrestling matches. We sit in the first row. The wrestlers sweat on me and everything.” Patrick leaned forward. “Want to see an official arm wrestling table? My uncle bought me one.”
The boys went into the house.
“Rub some chalk on your hands, J.J. Now hold this peg with your left hand.”
“Like this?”
“Put your right elbow on the pad. Face the table, nice and square, and grip my hand.”
“Muscles Maxis awesome,” J.J. said.
“Do you know that new move he does?”
“The Alley Oops? Sure, I do. Watch!”
“Hey!” J.J.’s wrist hit the table with a thud.
“I know all his moves,” Patrick said.
“The hook and drag, the top roll…”
Smack! Whack! J.J.’s wrist came down again and again. “I give up. You’re really strong. Your arm is like a hammer. It must weigh a ton.”
J.J. wiggled his fingers. “I saw a TV show where a guy weighed a thousand pounds and couldn’t fit out the door of his house. That could happen to you.”
“It won’t.”
“Why not?”
“My uncle’s got a bulldozer!”
They both laughed.
“Could you do the Alley Oops on the other guys at school?” J.J. asked.
“Sure!” Patrick grabbed a gripper and squeezed. Then he chinned himself on a bar.
“Okay. Tomorrow, after school, we’ll set something up. I’ll be your manager.”
J.J. raised his arms like an announcer.
“Ladies and gentlemen, introducing the amazing arm wrestler, Pig Pen!”
Patrick’s cheeks reddened.
“Sorry, just kidding,” J.J. said.
“What do you want to be called?”
“Hammer Hand Man?”
J.J. squeezed Patrick’s arm muscle. “Cool.”
Later that night, J.J. told his dad, “One day he’ll be worth a million dollars. I’m going to be his manager. I’ll get half of that.”
“What are you talking about, son?”
“Hammer Hand! Hammer Hand Man and the Alley Oops!”
Mr. Jax raised his eyebrows.
“You know. Patrick Montgomery, the new kid,” J.J. said. “Aw, it’s a long story, Dad. See if you can keep eyes open until I get to the end.”
