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Fat Kid Rules the World
by K. L. Going and Matthew Lillard

Overview - Troy Billings, at six-foot-one, 296 pounds, is standing at the edge of a subway platform, seriously contemplating suicide, when he meets Curt MacCrae - and emaciated, semi-homeless punk guitar genius who also happens to be a dropout legend at Troy's high school on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.  Read more...


 

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More About Fat Kid Rules the World by K. L. Going; Matthew Lillard
 
 
 
Overview

Troy Billings, at six-foot-one, 296 pounds, is standing at the edge of a subway platform, seriously contemplating suicide, when he meets Curt MacCrae - and emaciated, semi-homeless punk guitar genius who also happens to be a dropout legend at Troy's high school on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.
"I saved your life, " Curt tells Troy. "You owe me lunch."
But lunch with Curt brings more than he bargained for. Suddenly, Troy finds himself recruited as Curt's drummer for his new band. "We'll be called Rage/Tectonic. Sort of a punk rock, Clash sort of thing," Curt tells him
There's only one problem. Troy can't play the drums. Oh yes, and Troy's father thinks Curt's a drug addict. And Troy's brother thinks Troy's a loser
But with Curt, anything is possible. "You'll see," says Curt. "We're going to be HUGE." Fortunately, mercurial Curt has an energy, enthusiam, and wisdom that is as irresistible as it is contagious. Before long, Troy is swept up by his desire to be everything Curt belives him to be.
From the Cassette edition.

 
Details
  • Publisher: Penguin Random House Audio Publishing Gr
  • Date: June 2003
 
Excerpts

From the book


Skinny Punk Genius Saves Fat Kid

"Lucky for you I was at that station," Curt says as he watches me eat. "I mean, since I saved your life and all." His eyes track each bite I take, but when I offer him my fries he won't take any.

"I wasn't going to jump," I say, holding a french fry in the air. I'm lying, but only halfway.

Curt scoffs.

"Were," he says as if there's no argument. "I was watching you for, like, an hour. That rude, twirpy kid left, then three trains passed and you never looked up from the tracks. Then the insane laughter and I knew you'd lost it. I said to myself, Curt, you save this kid's life and he will surely buy you lunch."

"I wasn't going to jump," I say again with my best resolute look. I was just thinking. Just thinking."

Curt considers this at length.

"How come?" he finally asks.

I want to give him the you-moron look the kids at school have perfected. Maybe say something sarcastic like, "Use your imagination." I want to say, "Open your eyes. I'm a fucking three-hundred-pound teenager living in the most unforgiving city on earth. I'm ugly and dumb and I make stupid noises when I breathe. I annoy and bewilder my only living parent, mortify my little brother, and have no friends."

I shrug.

 
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