It's Raining Benjamins by Deborah Gregory Page A

everything is okay with Mr. Tycoon, alrighty, alrooty.”
    â€œAh,
beeneh
, I see,” Princess Pamela says. Then she starts humming to the music.
    â€œI hope you’re right, though, Princess Pamela. I hope something good is coming, because we haven’t heard anything yet from the record company,” I say with a sigh.
    Then I look in the mirror at my new hairdo. My hair is all wavy and loose now—it kinda looks like Bubbles’s, but not as wild. “I like it,” I coo to Princess Pamela, then hug her good-bye.
    â€œ
La revedere, cara
,” she says. “You will hear something verrry soon, I promise.”
    If Princess Pamela’s predictions are anywhere near as good as her hairdos, then I won’t be searching “somewhere over the rainbow” much longer. I practically float all the way home, daydreaming about us, the Cheetah girls, singing—and furry creatures with little whiskers.
    When I lie down on my pillow that night, I drift into a dream. I see lots of money falling, falling from the sky. Bubbles is in the dream, too. She has an umbrella, and we are trying to grab all the money that is falling from the sky.
    Then we start fighting over the money. Bubbles is trying to grab it from me, because, she screams, “You don’t deserve it!”
    Suddenly it starts raining, and we’re both crying because we’re getting all wet. The money is getting wet, too—and Bubbles starts screaming that our dreams are ruined, and how it’s all my fault!
    It starts raining so hard that we both give up grabbing for the falling money. We struggle to get under the same umbrella, to keep from getting wet. All of a sudden, the umbrella starts lifting us up off the ground, and we’re flying through the air! I start getting scared, but Bubbles says, “Just hang on real tight, and we won’t have anything to be afraid of anymore.”
    Then there is this beeping noise … and it won’t stop beeping….
    I sit up in bed, and I realize that the beeping sound is coming from my beeper on the night-stand. I reach over and flash the light on the beeper screen. I see the 411 code after Bubbles’s number. That’s our secret signal. It means that Bubbles has something to tell me.
    Sometimes Bubbles does that just to bother me. I mean, I’ll get on the Internet to talk to her in the Phat Planet chat room, and she’ll start talking about things that are
muy idiota
! You never know with Bubbles.
    I look over at my clock, and I see that it is midnight. Quietly, I get up and go to my computer, and log on to the chat room to see what Bubbles wants.
    I shake my head and rub my eyes.
Qué fantasía
. What a dream that was! Maybe I’d better carry an umbrella to school tomorrow, because after a dream like that, I know it’s going to rain,
    â€œWe’re in the house with the Mouse!” Bubbles types on the screen.
    â€œShouldn’t Mickey be sleeping with Toto?” I type back. I’m going to get Bubbles good for this. Getting me out of bed for another one of her little jokes,
qué bromacita
! I’ll bet you she’s trying to tell me that the twins found another mouse in their closet—or maybe it’s something to do with Abala Shaballa, that troublemaking witch.
    â€œNot unless Toto is going to cut a
demo
with us, baby!!!” Bubbles types on the screen in response.
    What is Bubbles talking about? I’m not in the mood for jokes. “Toto needs to be checking to see if you aren’t going cuckoo,” I type back, yawning.
    â€œ
Mouse Almighty
is the name of the producer Def Duck Records is hooking us up with—to cut a demo!” Bubbles types back.
    Suddenly I’m wide awake. “What happened?” I type excitedly.
    â€œThat’s right,
mamacita
. They’re gonna let us cut a few songs for a possible demo tape!”
    â€œ
Ay, Dios mío
—my goodness—Bubbles, why