"Poog's in trouble." Just three simple words, but they're enough to launch fifth-grade Akiko and the rest of her crew--Spuckler Boach, Mr. Beeba, and Gax--on their next mission. And it just might be their most important mission yet: To save the planet Toog, home of their good friend Poog.
Someone's out to destroy Toog, and only Akiko and the gang can stop them. But first they have to escape from a Toogolian jail cell, zoom through a barrage of exploding drobe mines, and enlist the help of Spuckler's old friend Fluggly Ragstubble--who's anything but helpful. The clock is ticking and every second counts. Will they win the race against time and save Poog's home planet?
When Mr. Beeba tells Akiko that Poog's in trouble, the fifth-grader sets out on her most urgent mission yet in Akiko and the Journey to Toog by Mark Crilley-to save Poog's home planet Toog. Unfortunately the Toogolians are not particularly welcoming. Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.
There are no customer reviews available at this time. Would you like to write a review?
September 12, 2005
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from Akiko and the Journey to Toog by Mark Crilley
1 My name is Akiko.I’m a pretty average fifth grader in a pretty average town that’s right in the middle of a pretty average part of the country. My life is for the most part extremely dull. For the most part. It’s theleastpart that’s always getting me into trouble. The part that has to do with me being taken off to other galaxies, battling strange aliens, piloting rocket ships, and, on occasion, eating in intergalactic fast-food restaurants. People are always telling me not to exaggerate. Which bugs me because I never do. It’s just that the things that happen to me tend to happen in a pretty big way. So please don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that the story I’m going to tell you right now is basically about the end of the world. Well, the end ofaworld, anyway. Or a world thatnearlycame to an end.Verynearly. Maybe I’d better just tell the story. It all started on my way home from school. I had just gone into Chuck’s. Chuck’s is this convenience store about three blocks from Middleton Elementary. It doesn’t look like much from the outside, but it has the biggest supply of bubble gum in town. All the usual gums, of course, but the rare stuff too: Arkey Malarkey’s Rain-Bo Day-Glo Sparkle Gum. Captain Zack’s Holy Mackerel Rub-A-Dubble Gum. Even Abe & Mabel’s Pop-N-Ploppin Super-Supple Bupple-Gum (That’s right:Bupple). The gum I bought that day was something I’d never tried before. It was called Dr. Yubble’s Ooey-Gooey Double-Trouble Bubble Gum. I gave Chuck his money and got my nickel in change. Then I stepped out onto the corner, pulled out a piece of gum, unwrapped it, popped it in my mouth, and chewed. So was it double trouble? Not really. It was gooey. And ooey.Definitelyooey. But to call it trouble? I don’t know. That’s going too far. Oh well, I thought. At least it’s ooey. That’s hard to come by in a gum. So there I was, chewing gum, standing on the corner of Wabash and Fifth. The light changed and I began to cross the street. But before I got even halfway . . . BUH-WOOOOOOOOOOoooooooo A siren! I spun around and found a black-and-white car barreling down the street at me, its siren blasting, its tires weaving back and forth. It squealed to a halt just inches from my legs. They’re pulling me over? Forwhat? I looked around to see if anyone was watching; the last thing I needed was a bunch of gawkers crowding in to see what was going on. I was lucky. The only witnesses were a grandma and her cat peering down from a third-story window across the street, and a grocer, half a block away, squinting from the shade of his awning. I turned back to face the patrol car. I’d never been so close to one before. The words MIDDLETON POLICE were painted on the hood, black on white. On the roof of the car was not one but eight flashing lights, each spinning and strobing a different color. Smoke billowed out in all directions, delivering a stink like an airport runway, only worse. This was oneweirdpolice car. The siren stopped. KLAKKA-K’CHAK! A door popped open in the middle of the hood, and out came a small mechanized megaphone. It could have come from a sci-fi movie, except it looked more like a sixth grader’s homemade science project. It rose into a position between me and the windshield and rotated until it was pointed directly at my head. A crackle of static, then: “Please step over to the door of the vehicle, Aki—” A pause. “—er, little girl.” I took a few steps towa