How to Outfox Your Friends When You Don't Have a Clue by Jess Keating Page B

humankind!” He snatched the paper from me and stood up dramatically, gesturing wildly.
    I settled back to watch him. Whenever Grandpa got all jazz hands like this it was always pretty entertaining.
    â€œ The greatest invention?” I questioned. “What about toilet paper? Or Personal Pan Pizzas? Or tranquilizer darts?” I thought about all those times I’d watched Grandpa’s documentaries where he was helping relocate large predators, where the only thing between him and a set of snapping jaws was a teensy dart that calmed the animal down.
    He pointed at me. “Yes! Those are all wonderful things! Not a day goes by when I’m not grateful for the brilliance of the human mind for such inventions as the Personal Pan Pizza!” He was getting going now, his eyes twinkling like Mom’s when she’s in front of a crowd.
    â€œBut documentaries, my dear Ana banana, are even better, providing a window into amazing worlds— real worlds with real creatures that people would never see otherwise! Now that is a noble pursuit! To teach and entertain? What could be better?”
    I giggled. “It is noble. But for this project I’m only going to be showcasing a few people and the zoo,” I said. “You know. Nothing wild like anacondas or sharks or things that can carry people off and eat them. Aren’t documentaries supposed to be”—I searched for the word—“exciting?”
    He lifted his shoulders. “What could be more exciting than a real documentarian glimpse into your world? You could be showcasing your influences in real time! You could film them! You could show them as they’ve never been seen before—their truest, grittiest, honest selves! If you can tell me that wouldn’t be the coolest project in your class, then I will eat my shorts!”
    Laughing, I took the paper from him. I didn’t tell him that I was sold on the documentary idea the second he’d found it on the list. Truthfully, I was surprised I hadn’t thought of it before. I did have some experience with documentaries, especially being around Grandpa so much. That familiar warm tingle of excitement ran up my arms, despite the chill in the air.
    â€œYou know,” I said, playing along. “I think that’s the perfect idea!”
    Instantly, my mind buzzed into action as I started rambling to Grandpa. “I could interview and film everyone, and profile all the things about them that make them who they are, which would also show how they influence me ! It’s brilliant!” I high-fived him.
    Daz bounded over to the picnic table. Leaves were scattered through his spiky hair at odd angles, so he looked like a doofy scarecrow.
    â€œWhat’s brilliant?” he asked, plunking down across from us. He tried to imitate Grandpa by throwing some granola in the air and catching it, but it bounced off his ear instead and onto the grass.
    â€œOnly the most awesome school project ever ,” I said proudly.
    Daz’s lip curled as he chewed. “You get way too excited about school,” he said.
    â€œBut think of it!” I continued talking to Grandpa, ignoring Daz’s attempt to stuff as many marshmallows as possible into his mug of cocoa. “I could even bring the camera into the zoo!” The idea zapped me like an electric eel. “I bet nobody will do a project like that. Do you think I could borrow a video camera, Grandpa?” I asked. “The only problem is I have no idea how to use a video camera. Or how to do any of that fancy editing stuff? Don’t you need special programs for that?”
    My shoulders drooped. Suddenly my awesome idea felt like Mount Everest, impossible to scale in such a short time.
    â€œI think I know a certain someone who might be able to help you out there.” Grandpa’s eyebrows lifted mischievously. “Someone who has plenty of experience working with cameras and editing