Novel & Cerita Cartoon Greg Heffley

As soon as I was alone, I buried my face in my hands with a groan. So, Whitfield High’s golden child suddenly wanted to . . . what? Become friends? It was honestly preposterous. Greg had half the school as friends. It wasn’t like he needed more. And I wasn’t like any of his actual friends. Star athletes, brilliant academics, cheerleaders, chess prodigies. It just didn’t make sense. I was even more confused by his genuineness. He never had to say a word to me about Uncle James passing but he clearly felt some strong conviction to do so.

“You’re not gonna like it.” “What is it?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. Carrotini drew her butter-knife sword and pointed it skyward. “We infiltrate.” “You want to put vegetables in her room?” “No,” said Anton dramatically. “We become the room.” There was silence. “…Explain.” “Greg can turn into a chair,” Mr. Yellow said smugly. “He once pretended to be a dinner stool at a vampire ball for three hours.” Greg sighed. “My lumbar still hurts.”

Steph came into my room and she was going to talk about the beauty pageant then I cut into her words. " You can't believe what happened today in the classroom? I said. " Riley bullied you again? she answered before I could speak then she walk to my study table and pick one of my test book. " No" I replied shaking my head. " He winked and smile at me" The test book she was holding fell off her hand. " Are you sure or maybe he smiled and wink at someone else that he wants to have sex with in your classroom, you know he is a spoilt brat" Jeff asks.

“Tell me, little man, how exactly are you going to fight those evil people? What’s your big plan?” Greg’s face lit up like Christmas morning. Without warning, he climbed onto his chair and then boldly onto the edge of the table, standing tall with his little chest puffed out and fists planted on his hips. “Yeah! I am Mafia Greg and I am here!” he announced dramatically, striking a superhero pose that sent a ripple of laughter through the room. “I’m gonna use my super strength to punch the bad guys, and I’ll drive a fast car like Daddy’s, and I’ll have guns but only for protection, and I’ll never let anyone make Mommy cry again. Boom! Bad guys down!”

“You think I had no childhood?” I grinned. And somehow… that turned into an entire conversation. We talked about old cartoons we watched growing up. Shinchan. Doraemon. Ninja Hattori. Perman. Pokémon. Even those weird cartoon ads that used to randomly appear between episodes. Leon admitted he used to imitate cartoon characters as a child. I nearly choked laughing. “You?” I stared at him in disbelief. “Mr. Calm and Mature?” “Oh trust me,” he deadpanned. “I was a menace.”