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    Invisible Inkling: The Whoopie Pie War
    Invisible Inkling: The Whoopie Pie War
    Invisible Inkling: The Whoopie Pie War
    Ebook123 pages1 hour

    Invisible Inkling: The Whoopie Pie War

    By Emily Jenkins

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    The adventures of Brooklyn boy Hank Wolowitz and his invisible—but not imaginary—friend continue with The Whoopie Pie War, the third book in the Invisible Inkling series by Emily Jenkins.
     
    A truck selling ice-cream whoopie pies sets up right in front of the ice-cream shop belonging to Hank’s family, and it’s taking away all the shop’s business. His dad is going crazy. His mom is furious.
     
    Hank and Inkling, his invisible bandapat, aren’t going to take it. The Whoopie Pie War is on! They’ll do whatever it takes to beat the whoopie pie truck—unicorn costumes, extreme kindness, an army of supervillains.

    The illustrated chapter book’s mix of silliness, fantasy, strong sense of place, and a realistic family make it a great pick for middle-grade readers.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOpen Road Integrated Media
    Release dateJul 23, 2013
    ISBN9780062208439
    Invisible Inkling: The Whoopie Pie War
    Author

    Emily Jenkins

    Emily Jenkins is the author of two previous books about Hank and Inkling. She also wrote the chapter books Toys Go Out, Toy Dance Party, and Toys Come Home, plus a lot of picture books, including Lemonade in Winter, That New Animal, and Skunkdog. She bakes excellent pumpkin bread and, when swimming, wears a purple swim cap and blue goggles.

    Read more from Emily Jenkins

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    Reviews for Invisible Inkling

    4/5

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    • 3/5
      The thing about Hank's new friend Inkling is, he's invisible. No, "not" imaginary. Inkling is an invisible bandapat, a creature native to the Peruvian Woods of Mystery. (Or maybe it is the Ukrainian glaciers. Inkling hardly ever gets his stories straight.) Now Inkling has found his way into Hank's apartment on his quest for squash, a bandapat favorite. But Hank has bigger problems than helping Inkling fend off maniac doggies and searching for pumpkins: Bruno Gillicut is a lunch-stealing, dirtbug caveperson and he's got to be stopped. And who better to help stand up to a bully than an invisible friend?
    • 4/5
      If being a nerd with an over-active imagination was not enough of a problem, Hank's best fried moves away just before the start of 4th grade. Fortunately Inkling, a squash-loving invisible creature shows up and helps Hand through a series of problems especially the one with Gillicut the school bully. Very funny would make a good classroom read-aloud.
    • 4/5
      My thoughts:This was a fun, creative story about what it means to be a friend and to have a friend.It would work well as a read-aloud for elementary students. The theme is friendship, and of course there is a bully! The reader is shown that sometimes there is more to a bully than just the desire to be mean. The author doesn't excuse the bully behavior, but sheds some light on what could be going on "behind the scenes" emotionally for the bully as well as for the bullied.
    • 4/5
      Hank Wolowitz, please call him Wolowitz, lives with his sister and parents in an apartment above their Brooklyn ice cream shop called the “Big Round Pumpkin: Ice Cream for a Happy World.” His best friend Wainscotting has moved to Iowa City leaving Wolowitz feeling alone. It doesn’t help that Wolowitz is being bullied at school by Gillicut who is taking his sprinkles at lunch each day Even worse – upon complaining to his teacher, Ms. Cherry, Wolowitz is given lame advice and later is accused of being the bully. One day, while at the ice cream shop, Wolowitz drops sprinkles on the floor. When he reaches under the sink to get the fleeing sprinkles he feels something soft but sees nothing there. Later, he watches as a waffle cone walks itself to the edge of the counter and disappears. In the hallway of his apartment, with a neighbor’s dog on a leash, the dog goes crazy wild at an empty corner. Wolowitz swipes his hand through the area to show the canine that nothing is there and feels the furry object again, this time it is shaking in his would-be shoes. Wolowitz has found a lone bandapet.Bandapets, an endangered species, need lots of Vitamin A, so they feed mainly on squash, which is getting scare in their own land. So this bandapet, named Inkling, has come to Brooklyn looking for squash, hoping he has hit the jackpot at the Big Round Pumpkin. Now that Wolowitz has saved Inkling from the dog Inkling is bound by the bandapet code of honor which requires the bandapet stay with the one who saved his life until he is the savior. Inkling and Hank, oops, Wolowitz spend afternoons playing games and eating, simply enjoying their friendship. Soon, Inkling realizes squash is not as plentiful as he thought in Brooklyn and must head north and Wolowitz must face his tormentor and get his sprinkles back. Together they work out a plan that may solve their problems.Invisible Inkling is a fast read and a fun read. Hank Wolowitz is a lovable character and a typical 10 year old boy. Inkling comes along at the best time for Hank, right after his best friend moves away, leaving him without a close companion. With Inkling, Hank has both a new friend and a truly invisible friend. What kid wouldn’t love that! Hank’s father is still stuck in the 1960’s, talking like a hippie and extremely mellow with a sense of idealized peace. Not much help for a boy being bullied. Inkling is a chronic fibber, changing his background story enough to confuse even himself. Still this only endears Inkling more to Hank and the reader. This book won’t help anyone deal with bullies or learn where bandapets originally came from, but it is a funny read most kids will enjoy. note: received from Netgalley, courtesy of the publisher

    Book preview

    Invisible Inkling - Emily Jenkins

    I Asked if We Could Get a Black Mamba

    Hey there.

    By now, you know all about Inkling. You know he’s an invisible bandapat. You know he speaks English, Yiddish, and Mandarin. You know he sleeps in my laundry basket. You know he came to live with me in September of fourth grade when I rescued him from Rootbeer, the hungry French bulldog who lives across the hall.

    You know that bandapats are an endangered species from the Peruvian Woods of Mystery. Or possibly the redwoods of Cameroon. Or the Canadian underbrushlands.

    Inkling never gets his stories straight. In fact, he’s a liar. He lies so often, I sometimes suspect he’s a secret agent. Who else would have that much to hide?

    Nobody I can think of.

    Though a secret agent would probably lie better than Inkling does.

    Hopefully you also remember that we’ve got to keep hush-hush about Inkling living with me. I can’t tell my parents, my sister Nadia, or my friend Chin from downstairs. Scientists are looking for the last of the bandapats. They want to trap them and take them to top-secret labs. They want to know what makes the bandapats invisible. They wonder why the bandapats can only be seen in mirrors and whether eating so much squash has anything to do with it.

    The other reason Inkling has to stay hush-hush is that Mom won’t let me have a pet. She says Dad, Nadia, me, and seven hundred books—that’s already more than she can handle in a small apartment.

    She’s really serious about the no-pet thing. Last year before Inkling came, I asked if I could get a black mamba. Sure, they’re lethal, but people keep poisonous snakes as pets all the time. Black mambas grow fourteen feet long. They’re the fastest snakes in the world. Their heads are shaped like coffins. Even the insides of their mouths are black. Once, one was found with a full-grown parrot in its belly.

    I read about them in my venomous-reptiles book. They’re for-serious one of the coolest snakes alive.

    Mom said no.

    Then I asked for a rattlesnake. It would be a lot smaller than a mamba.

    Still no.

    Then I asked for a hedgehog.

    No.

    Just a bitty hedgehog, I said. A pygmy one. Pygmy hedgehogs are tiny, and you can feed them cat food. Or mealworms. Or vegetables. Nadia showed me stuff about them on the internet.

    Mom sighed.

    I told her they’re only the size of an egg and they just need a rabbit hutch to live in.

    No! Mom barked. All right, then.

    When Mom starts barking, it’s time to stop asking.

    You see, there’s no way she’d say yes to Inkling. He is much bigger than a pygmy hedgehog, and he eats a lot more than a rattlesnake.

    That’s why I’m asking you: please, please, please, promise not to say anything to anyone after you’re done reading this. It’s like a classified document.

    From

    Hank Wolowitz

    LISTEN UP!

    INKLING IS NOT A PET.

    N-O-T NOT.

    THE IDEA OF HIM BEING A PET IS AN INSULT TO HIS DIGNITY.

    IN FACT, INKLING IS THE BEST FRIEND A BOY COULD EVER HAVE. HE SWIMS A RECORD-BREAKING BACKSTROKE. HE HAS TRAVELED FROM THE VOLCANOES OF INDONESIA TO THE DESERTS OF NORWAY.

    WHAT ELSE? HE IS EXTREMELY WITTY, BRAVE, CUTE—AND YET SENSITIVE TO THE FEELINGS OF OTHERS. ALSO, AN EXCELLENT MONOPOLY PLAYER.

    INKLING IS NOT A LIAR.

    HE IS NOT A SECRET AGENT.

    HE IS ALSO REALLY, REALLY NOT A PET.

    Sorry.

    Inkling wrote that when I left my room for a minute.

    They All Taste Like Baby Food

    I totally need to get hold of some canned pumpkin. I am going to hijack some when Dad’s not looking. I’ve got a Ziploc bag in my pocket.

    Pumpkin is Inkling’s favorite food. Now that Halloween is over, it’s been hard to find. I don’t know if he’ll like canned, though. Canned pumpkin is precooked and mashed. Bandapats like their squash raw. Still, it’s worth a try, right? This morning, Dad is trying out pumpkin-ice-cream recipes down in the kitchen of our family’s ice-cream shop, Big Round Pumpkin: Ice Cream for a Happy World.

    Did you know that despite the name Big Round Pumpkin, our shop has never sold pumpkin ice cream?

    Dad has tried and tried to make some. It always comes out gross.

    Now, it’s close to Thanksgiving. Brooklyn food shops are making pumpkin pies, pecan squares, apple dumplings. Time to try again.

    I promised Inkling I’d snag some leftover canned pumpkin for him to taste. But so far this morning, I’ve missed every chance. Probably because Joe Patne is here, helping us cook.

    Patne makes me nervous.

    A thing about Patne is, he used to be my friend. He’s come to my birthday parties and I’ve been to his. He was on my owl-pellet team at Science Fellow summer camp. Then he started going to after-school programs every day. I hardly ever saw him anymore. Now he’s friends with this guy Henry Kim, who treats me like some tagalong kindergartner.

    My best friend, Wainscotting, moved away just before fourth grade started. Without him, I’m not exactly Lord Popular. I do have Sasha Chin from downstairs. She and I built the Great Wall of China out of matchsticks together. Now we’re working on the Taj Mahal. But aside from Chin, I don’t have any other visible friends.

    My dad invited Patne over without even asking me.

    Here in the ice-cream-shop kitchen, we made a custard ice-cream base. Now three pots of canned pumpkin are cooking: one with vanilla, cream cheese, and honey; one with nutmeg and cinnamon; one with melted chocolate. The shop doesn’t open till noon, so there are no customers yet. Dad stirs the pots with wooden spoons. Patne and I eat orange sprinkles from small plastic dishes.

    The nearly empty cans of pumpkin are sitting on the counter. Calling me.

    But Dad is always here. Stirring. Making jokes. Watching.

    Finally, the phone rings and Dad takes himself out to the front of the store to talk. I have to get this pumpkin for Inkling. Barefaced in front of Patne, there’s no other way. I grab a spatula and scrape the leftover pumpkin from the cans into my Ziploc.

    Why are you doing that? Patne asks.

    I have a lie prepared. I lie a lot now that Inkling lives with me.

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