Pleskit and Tim are the butt of the joke in this eleventh book in the hilarious, fast-paced, and accessible sci-fi series Sixth-Grade Alien from the bestselling author of Aliens Ate My Homework , Bruce Coville! When Tim comes home and finds a two-foot-tall orange alien named Beebo Frimbat sitting on his desk, he knows he’s in for a hard time. After all, Beebo is a dedicated mischief maker who thinks trouble is the spice of life. But even Beebo’s past pranks don’t prepare Tim for finding his underwear flying from the school flagpole. Still, it’s all in good fun. Or is it? Do Beebo’s pranks have anything to do with the plan to derail the mission of The Fatherly One? And is it really just an accident when Beebo locks Pleskit’s bodyguard in an alternate dimension populated by man-eating monsters? Previously titled There’s an Alien in My Underwear . Bruce Coville has published more than one hundred books, which have sold more than sixteen million copies. Among his most popular titles are My Teacher Is an Alien , Into the Land of the Unicorns , and The Monster’s Ring . Bruce also founded Full Cast Audio, a company that creates recordings of the best in children’s and young adult literature. He lives in Syracuse, New York, with his wife, Katherine. Visit him at BruceCoville.com. Award-winning illustrator Glen Mullaly’s retro-styled illustrations and comics-inspired fun can be found in bestselling author Bruce Coville’s Sixth Grade Alien middle grade series, puzzle and paper-craft work for McDonald’s, publications for Dark Horse Comics, and his own line of fun greeting cards through Northwest Greetings. Glen also worked with Eisner and Inkpot Award–winning comic book artist Ken Steacy on Star Wars children’s books. Glen lives on the west coast of North America with his book-loving wife and their spiral-tailed cat who loves to help Glen with his work by leaving paw prints all over his illustrations whenever she can. Learn more at GlenMulally.com. Chapter 1: Koo Muk Dwan CHAPTER 1 [TIM] KOO MUK DWAN “So, how’s it going with Jordan?” asked Rafaella Martinez. The two of us, Rafaella and I, had stopped our bikes and were standing side by side on the bridge we cross on the way home from school. I love the bridge because it gives a great view of the Hevi-Hevian embassy, which is located on top of the big hill in Thorncraft Park. The embassy looks a lot like a huge flying saucer. It dangles from a two-hundred-foot-high hook that arches up from the hill like the top of a coat hanger. The hook is made from some alien metal. It’s only about a foot wide, and looks incredibly flimsy for something so huge. No matter how often I see the embassy, I don’t get tired of it. How could I? My whole life I had been wanting to meet an alien. So when our teacher, Ms. Weintraub, announced that the first alien embassy on Earth was going to be put here in Syracuse, I thought my head would explode. It’s a good thing I didn’t find out then that Pleskit, the alien ambassador’s son and world’s first purple sixth grader, would turn out to be my best friend. I think the excitement would have killed me on the spot! Today, as usual, a crowd of sightseers was gathered below the embassy, gawking up at it. I knew most of them would give their right arms to get inside, so I couldn’t help but feel slightly smug about the fact that I visit it almost daily. “Big crowd this afternoon,” I said. Rafaella nudged me with her elbow. “Stop avoiding my question!” She was right, of course; that was exactly what I was doing. But it was a tricky subject. Jordan Lynch had been my mortal enemy ever since he’d transferred into our school two years before, after he’d gotten kicked out of the fancy private school he used to go to. But things had started to change after Jordan, Pleskit, and I had been shrunk by an evil hamsteroid alien named Wiktor-waktor-wooktor. Wiktor wanted to get revenge on us for the fact that Pleskit and I had thwarted the plans of his littersister, Mikta-makta-mookta. Surviving the experience together had changed things between Jordan and me. Only, I still hadn’t figured out exactly what the change was. “I don’t know what to think,” I said to Rafaella at last. “Jordan still isn’t what you would call a friend.” I shuddered. “I can’t imagine that ever happening! But he’s definitely not as much of an enemy as he used to be. It’s very confusing.” “Don’t worry,” said Rafaella soothingly. “You’ll figure it out eventually.” I smiled. I used to get my social advice from my upstairs neighbor Linnsy Vanderhof, until she got merged into a symbiotic link with a crablike creature named Bur. Now she’s off exploring the galaxy. I miss her, and not just because I need her advice—which was often accompanied by a “little punchie-wunchie” in the arm, which was meant to teach me not to be such a dork. To tell the truth, I don’t actually miss the punchie-wunchies. But the social advice is something I still desperately need, since I d