Booger Cannon: ULTIMATE GROSS-OUT EDITION

Chapter 1: The Shot That Changed Everything

Finn McGillicuddy was having the absolute worst day of his eleven-year-old life when he made the greatest discovery in the history of gross.

It started when Jake "The Tank" Morrison shoved him into his locker during lunch break, causing Finn's nose to slam into the metal door. Blood didn't come out, but something way worse did—a massive, green, perfectly formed booger that had been building up for at least three days.

"EWWWW!" Jake screamed, jumping backward. "You got nose slime on my shoe!"

Finn wiped his nose and looked around. The entire hallway was staring at him. Ashley Rodriguez was covering her mouth in horror. Tyler Jenkins was pointing and laughing. Even the eighth-graders had stopped to watch the show.

That's when Finn noticed the dartboard.

Someone had left it leaning against the wall outside the gym—probably forty feet away from where he was standing. It looked tiny from this distance, like a small circle with red and white rings.

And Finn, dripping with embarrassment and rage, had an idea that was either completely brilliant or completely insane.

He loaded his finger with the biggest, stickiest, most disgusting booger he could produce, aimed it at the dartboard, and sneezed with every ounce of fury in his entire body.

The booger shot out like a guided missile.

SPLAAAAAAAT!

It hit the exact center of the dartboard with such incredible force that it went completely through the board and splattered against the gym wall behind it, leaving a perfect green star pattern.

The hallway went dead silent.

Then someone whispered, "Did he just...?"

"From forty feet away?"

"Through the dartboard?"

"THAT WAS AWESOME!" Tyler Jenkins screamed.

Suddenly, everyone was rushing toward the dartboard to see the damage. The booger had hit the bullseye so perfectly that it looked like someone had painted a target there. The dartboard had a booger-shaped hole right through the center.

"FINN THE CANNON!" someone yelled.

"BOOGER BULLSEYE!" screamed someone else.

"DO IT AGAIN!" the crowd chanted.

Jake Morrison was standing there with his mouth hanging open, completely forgotten. The kid he'd just stuffed in a locker had become the center of attention with one impossible shot.

"That's disgusting," Ashley Rodriguez said, but she was smiling when she said it.

"That's AMAZING," corrected Marcus Williams, an eighth-grader who never talked to sixth-graders. "I've never seen anything like that."

Finn looked around at the crowd of kids staring at him with something he'd never seen before: total amazement.

"How did you DO that?" Tyler asked.

"I have no idea," Finn admitted. But inside, he felt something incredible happening. For the first time in his entire life, he was the center of attention for something good.

Well. Something gross. But gross in a way that made other kids think he was cool instead of weird.

"Hit it again!" Jeremy Walsh demanded.

"Yeah, prove it wasn't luck!" Jake Morrison said, trying to regain control of the situation.

Finn looked at the destroyed dartboard. There was no way he could do that again. It had been pure accident, driven by rage and embarrassment.

But everyone was watching. Everyone was waiting.

He loaded another booger—not quite as massive as the first one, but still impressively sticky—and aimed at what was left of the dartboard.

THWAAAP!

Perfect hit. Right next to the hole from his first shot.

The crowd went absolutely nuts.

"BOOGER CANNON! BOOGER CANNON! BOOGER CANNON!" they chanted.

Even some teachers had come out to see what the noise was about. Mrs. Peterson took one look at the demolished dartboard with two perfect booger hits and made a face like she was going to throw up.

"Finn McGillicuddy!" she called out. "Did you do this?"

"Yes ma'am," Finn said proudly.

"This is completely unsanitary!"

"But did you see the accuracy?" Tyler pointed out. "He hit the exact same spot twice from forty feet away!"

Mrs. Peterson looked at the evidence, then at Finn, then at the crowd of amazed kids.

"That's... that's actually remarkable precision," she admitted reluctantly.

"Can he do it again?" Ashley asked.

Before Mrs. Peterson could answer, Finn was already loading up shot number three.

SPLURCH!

Another perfect hit.

The crowd lost their minds completely. Kids were taking pictures with their phones. Someone was already posting videos to TikTok with the caption "BOOGER SNIPER AT ROOSEVELT MIDDLE SCHOOL."

And that's how Finn McGillicuddy, the kid who had never been good at anything, discovered he was the greatest booger marksman in the history of the world.

But he was just getting started.

Chapter 2: Going Viral

By Friday afternoon, Finn's booger bullseye video had been viewed 50,000 times and shared across every social media platform by kids from schools all over the state. Over the weekend, it exploded to viral status.

The comments were incredible:

"NO WAY THIS IS REAL"

"This kid is a human sniper rifle"

"I'VE WATCHED THIS 47 TIMES"

"BOOGER CANNON FOR PRESIDENT"

But the real proof that Finn had become a legend was waiting for him at his locker: a crowd of at least thirty kids, including several eighth-graders he'd never seen before.

"There he is!" someone shouted. "THE BOOGER CANNON!"

"Finn!" called out Derek Martinez, the most popular eighth-grader in school. "Is it true you can hit anything from any distance?"

"Seems like it," Finn said, trying to play it cool while his heart hammered with excitement.

"Prove it," Derek said, pointing down the hallway. "Hit that exit sign from here."

Finn looked. The exit sign was at least sixty feet away and barely the size of a notebook.

"That's impossible," Jake Morrison said. He'd been following Finn around all morning, apparently deciding that being friends with the Booger Cannon was better than being his enemy.

"Nothing's impossible for the Cannon," Tyler said loyally.

Finn studied the target. It was tiny, distant, and surrounded by kids who would either think he was amazing or completely lame depending on what happened in the next thirty seconds.

He loaded up his best booger—perfectly moist, with ideal density and aerodynamic properties—and aimed.

The crowd held its breath.

SPLAAAAT!

The booger sailed down the hallway in a perfect arc and hit the exit sign dead center with such force that it knocked the sign crooked.

The hallway erupted in cheers so loud that classroom doors started opening and teachers came out to see what was happening.

"SIXTY FEET!" Derek yelled. "HE HIT IT FROM SIXTY FEET!"

"Someone call the Guinness Book of Records!" Ashley laughed.

"Someone call the health department," muttered Mrs. Chen, the science teacher, but even she looked impressed.

"What's all this noise?" came a familiar voice.

Principal Morrison pushed through the crowd and stopped when he saw the crooked exit sign with a fresh green splat in its center.

"Mr. McGillicuddy," he said slowly, "please tell me you didn't shoot a booger at school property from sixty feet away."

"Okay," Finn said. "I won't tell you that."

The crowd snickered.

"Did you or did you not—"

"I shot a booger really, really far and hit what I was aiming at," Finn said proudly.

Principal Morrison's eye started twitching.

"You shot a booger at the exit sign."

"I shot boogers at targets and hit them perfectly!"

"Same thing!"

"Mine sounds way cooler," Finn pointed out.

The crowd was trying not to laugh while Principal Morrison's face turned red.

"Office. Now."

"Can I finish my targeting demonstration first? I was about to attempt the fire alarm from eighty feet."

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

But as Finn walked toward the office, kids were slapping him on the back and whispering things like "You're my hero!" and "That was legendary!"

For the first time in his life, getting sent to the principal's office felt like a victory parade.

In the office, Principal Morrison sat behind his desk looking like he was trying to solve the world's most disgusting puzzle.

"Finn," he began, "while your... accuracy... is impressive, you cannot continue shooting biological projectiles in school."

"Why not?" Finn asked. "I'm not hurting anyone. I'm just hitting targets."

"It's unsanitary!"

"The water fountain's gross too, but you don't ban that."

"That's different!"

"How?"

Principal Morrison opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again like a confused fish.

"Because... because..." He struggled for words. "Because boogers are gross!"

"Gross is subjective," Finn said. "Some people think brussels sprouts are gross, but the cafeteria still serves them."

"Finn, you cannot compare boogers to vegetables!"

"Why not? They're both organic matter that comes from living things."

Principal Morrison made that deflating balloon sound.

"Three days suspension," he announced.

"Cool," Finn said. "That gives me time to practice my long-range techniques."

"You will NOT practice shooting boogers during your suspension!"

"Says who?"

"Says me!"

"Are you gonna follow me around all day?"

"Your parents will—"

"My parents think it's hilarious that I finally found something I'm good at."

This was completely true. When Mom picked him up from school, the first thing she said was, "I saw the video! That shot was incredible! Your aim is better than your father's golf swing!"

"Mom!" Finn protested.

"What? It's true! And much more entertaining!"

As they drove home, Mom was already planning Finn's training schedule.

"We'll set up targets in the backyard," she said excitedly. "Different distances, different sizes. Maybe we can even time your shots!"

"Aren't you worried about me shooting boogers?"

"Honey, I spent nine months growing you inside my body and two years changing your diapers. Boogers are the least gross thing you've ever produced."

And that's how Finn McGillicuddy ended his first day as a viral sensation: suspended from school, celebrated by his classmates, and getting full parental support for developing his disgusting talent.

Tomorrow, he was going to become unstoppable.

Chapter 3: The Training Montage

Finn's backyard had been transformed into what his little sister Mabel called "the grossest training facility in human history."

Mom had helped him set up targets at every distance from ten feet to a hundred feet. There were regular dartboards, paper plates, cans, bottles, and even tiny targets like coins and bottle caps mounted on stakes.

"This is so disgusting," Mabel said, watching Finn nail a quarter from fifty feet. "But also kind of amazing."

"Kind of amazing?" Finn protested. "I just hit a quarter from fifty feet with a booger! That's completely amazing!"

"Okay, fine. It's completely amazing. But it's also completely gross."

Finn was discovering that his accuracy was getting better with practice. Not just more consistent, but more powerful too. His boogers were hitting with enough force to knock over lightweight targets, and he was developing what he called "specialty ammunition."

There was the Standard Shot—reliable accuracy, medium range.

The Power Blast—maximum force for long distances or tough targets.

The Precision Pellet—tiny but incredibly accurate for small targets.

The Curve Ball—could bend around obstacles (his secret technique).

And his ultimate weapon: The Green Goober—a massive, perfectly formed booger that hit with devastating force and maximum gross-out factor.

"Finn!" Tyler called from the back gate. He'd brought Ashley, Marcus, and Derek Martinez to watch the training session.

"Check this out," Finn said, pointing to a bottle cap mounted on a stick ninety feet away. "Green Goober technique."

He loaded up his most impressive ammunition and fired.

SPLOOOOORCH!

The booger hit the bottle cap with such force that it exploded off the stick and flew another twenty feet before landing in Mrs. Henderson's rose garden.

"THAT WAS INSANE!" Derek yelled.

"Ninety feet!" Ashley said. "That's like, professional athlete level accuracy!"

"Professional athletes use balls," Marcus pointed out.

"Professional athletes are boring," Tyler replied. "Finn uses boogers, which is way cooler."

"And way grosser," added Ashley, but she was grinning when she said it.

Word about Finn's backyard training had spread throughout the neighborhood, and by day two of his suspension, kids were showing up just to watch him practice. Some were even trying to learn his techniques, with spectacularly disgusting failures.

"I can't get the trajectory right," complained Jeremy Walsh after his booger fell short of a target twenty feet away.

"You're not accounting for wind resistance," Finn explained, feeling like a coach. "And your ammunition is too wet. You need the right moisture content for optimal aerodynamics."

"Listen to him," Mabel said to Ashley. "He's talking about boogers like they're science."

"They are science!" Finn protested. "It's like... physics! And math! All mixed together!"

"It's gross is what it is," said Mrs. Henderson from over the fence. "I found one of your... projectiles... in my petunias this morning."

"Sorry, Mrs. Henderson!" Finn called back. "I'm still working on controlling the ricochet patterns!"

"The what patterns?"

"When boogers bounce off hard surfaces, they can end up anywhere. I'm developing mathematical formulas to predict the deflection angles."

Mrs. Henderson stared at him like he was speaking alien language.

"You're eleven years old," she said slowly.

"I'm eleven years old and I can shoot boogers better than anyone!" Finn corrected proudly.

That evening, the doorbell rang. Mom answered it to find Principal Morrison standing on their front porch, looking like he hadn't slept in days.

"Mrs. McGillicuddy," he said, "we need to talk about your son."

"Isn't he suspended?" Mom asked. "Why are you here?"

"Because half the school district has seen videos of him shooting boogers at impossible targets, and parents are calling demanding to know why we're not teaching 'precision biological projectile skills' in PE class."

"That actually sounds like a good elective," Mom said thoughtfully.

"It sounds like a health nightmare!" Principal Morrison replied. "Parents want to know if their kids can take lessons from Finn!"

"That's wonderful! Finn would make an excellent teacher!"

"Mrs. McGillicuddy, your son cannot teach other children to shoot boogers!"

"Why not? He's obviously gifted at it."

"Because it's GROSS!"

"So is dissecting frogs in biology class, but you still do that."

Principal Morrison made the deflating sound again.

"Mrs. McGillicuddy, when Finn returns to school tomorrow, he cannot continue this... hobby."

"Why not?"

"Because it's disruptive!"

"How is shooting at dartboards disruptive?"

"Because..." Principal Morrison struggled. "Because other kids want to copy him!"

"So? Isn't imitation the sincerest form of flattery?"

"Not when it involves bodily fluids!"

Mom looked at Principal Morrison like he was the one being unreasonable.

"Bill," she said, "my son has discovered he's exceptionally talented at something. For the first time in his life, other kids think he's cool. He's applying physics and mathematics to solve trajectory problems. He's developed fine motor control that most adults couldn't match. And you want to shut it down because it involves boogers?"

"Well... yes."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

And with that, Mom closed the door, leaving Principal Morrison standing on the porch wondering how an eleven-year-old's booger shooting had become his biggest professional crisis.

Inside, Finn was already planning tomorrow's return to Roosevelt Middle School.

He was going to show them what three days of intensive training had accomplished.

And it was going to be legendary.

Chapter 4: The Underground Tournament

When Finn returned to school, he discovered that his three-day absence had created what Tyler Jenkins called "the Great Booger Shortage."

"Everyone's been trying to copy your techniques," Tyler explained as they walked to first period. "But nobody can hit anything. Derek Martinez has been practicing for three days and he can barely hit a wall from five feet away."

"What about Ashley?" Finn asked.

"She gave up after accidentally hitting herself in the face. Twice."

"And Jeremy?"

"Jeremy somehow managed to shoot a booger backward and hit the kid behind him. We have no idea how that's even physically possible."

Finn grinned. Apparently, his talent was even more special than he'd thought.

But the real surprise came during lunch, when Derek Martinez approached Finn's table with a proposal that would change everything.

"Finn," Derek said, "I've got an idea."

"What kind of idea?"

"The kind that could make you the most famous kid in the entire school district."

Derek sat down and leaned in conspiratorially.

"Underground booger dart tournament," he whispered. "After school, in the old gymnasium. Kids from five different schools. Winner takes all."

"Takes all what?"

"Respect. Glory. And a hundred-dollar prize pool that we're collecting from entry fees."

Finn's eyes went wide. "A hundred dollars?"

"Plus, we're live-streaming it. The video from your first shot has been viewed 200,000 times. People want to see if you can really do this consistently."

"What does Principal Morrison think about this?"

Derek grinned. "Principal Morrison doesn't know about this. This is completely underground. Off school property, after hours, no adult supervision."

"That sounds..."

"Awesome?" Tyler suggested.

"Dangerous?" Ashley added.

"Legendary," Finn finished.

Within an hour, word had spread through the school's underground communication network. Text messages, whispered conversations, coded notes passed during class. By final period, everyone knew: the Booger Cannon was going to face challengers from five schools in the most disgusting sporting event in middle school history.

The old community center gymnasium was actually the abandoned gym from the old Roosevelt Recreation Center, which had been closed for budget cuts. It was perfect for secret competitions because it was public property that nobody really monitored, and Derek's older brother had gotten permission from the community center director by telling him it was for "youth athletic development."

When Finn arrived at 4 PM, he couldn't believe what he saw.

At least sixty kids were there, including high schoolers who had heard about the tournament through social media. Someone had set up professional-looking dartboards at various distances. There were spectator areas marked off with rope. Multiple cameras were positioned for live streaming.

"This is insane," Finn whispered to Tyler.

"This is your moment," Tyler replied. "Time to show everyone that the Booger Cannon is the real deal."

Derek Martinez stepped up to a microphone that someone had connected to a portable speaker.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" his voice echoed through the gym. "Welcome to the first annual Underground Booger Dart Championship!"

The crowd erupted in cheers.

"Tonight, we crown the most accurate nose marksman in the tri-county area! Competing against our hometown hero, the legendary Booger Cannon, we have challengers from Westfield Middle, Central Valley Academy, Oak Ridge School, Lincoln Middle, and Jefferson High!"

Finn looked around at his competition. They all looked older, bigger, and more confident than him. One kid from Jefferson High was wearing a custom T-shirt that said "SNOT SHOT KING."

"Each competitor gets three shots at targets of increasing difficulty," Derek continued. "Dartboard from twenty feet, quarter from forty feet, and bottle cap from sixty feet. Most accurate shots wins the championship and the hundred-dollar prize!"

"Plus eternal glory!" someone called from the crowd.

"Plus eternal glory!" Derek agreed.

As the competition began, Finn watched his opponents take their shots. Some were pretty good—the kid from Westfield hit the dartboard twice out of three tries. The Jefferson High student managed to hit the quarter once.

But none of them had the power and precision that Finn had developed during his three days of intensive training.

When it was Finn's turn, the crowd went silent.

Twenty-foot dartboard shot: SPLAAT! Perfect bullseye.

Forty-foot quarter shot: THWAP! Dead center hit that sent the coin spinning.

Sixty-foot bottle cap shot: SPLOO! The bottle cap exploded off its mount and flew into the crowd.

The gymnasium went absolutely wild.

"BOOGER CANNON! BOOGER CANNON! BOOGER CANNON!"

But Derek wasn't finished.

"Special bonus round!" he announced. "Finn 'The Booger Cannon' McGillicuddy will attempt the legendary EIGHTY-FOOT MOVING TARGET SHOT!"

Someone started swinging a plastic bottle on a rope at the far end of the gym.

Finn studied the target, calculating timing, trajectory, and wind resistance from the overhead fans.

This was it. The shot that would make him a legend forever.

He loaded up his most powerful Green Goober technique, aimed at the swinging bottle, and fired with everything he had.

The booger sailed through the air in a perfect arc, timed its approach to intercept the swinging bottle, and...

SPLOOOOOOOOORCH!

Hit the bottle dead center with such force that it ripped off the rope and splattered against the far wall.

The crowd lost their minds completely. Kids were jumping up and down, screaming, taking pictures, and posting videos with captions like "I WAS THERE WHEN HISTORY WAS MADE."

As Derek handed Finn the hundred-dollar prize money and declared him the first Underground Booger Dart Champion, Finn realized he'd gone from being the weird kid nobody noticed to being the most famous middle schooler in the entire district.

And the best part?

This was just the beginning.

Tomorrow, he was going to walk into Roosevelt Middle School as the official Underground Champion.

And there wasn't a single thing Principal Morrison could do to stop him.

Chapter 5: Total Domination

The video from the Underground Booger Dart Championship broke the internet.

By Monday morning, Finn's eighty-foot moving target shot had been viewed 2.3 million times, shared by every major social media account dedicated to "impossible shots," and featured on three different news websites with headlines like "MIDDLE SCHOOLER'S BOOGER PRECISION DEFIES PHYSICS."

But the real proof of Finn's legendary status was waiting for him at the school entrance: a crowd of at least a hundred kids from every grade, plus parents, teachers, and two news crews who had come to interview "the Booger Cannon."

"THERE HE IS!" someone screamed when Finn got off the bus.

The crowd surged forward, but not in a scary way—in a "you're our hero" way.

"Finn! Finn! Can you sign my notebook?"

"Booger Cannon! Will you teach me your techniques?"

"Mr. McGillicuddy! Channel 7 News, can we get an interview?"

Finn looked around at the chaos he'd created and felt something amazing: for the first time in his life, he was the center of attention for being awesome instead of weird.

"EVERYONE BACK TO CLASS!" came Principal Morrison's voice over a bullhorn. "THIS IS A SCHOOL, NOT A CARNIVAL!"

But nobody moved. The crowd was too excited about their celebrity classmate.

Principal Morrison pushed through the crowd until he reached Finn.

"Mr. McGillicuddy," he said through gritted teeth, "my office. Now."

"But the reporters want to interview me," Finn pointed out.

"I don't care if the President wants to interview you. Office. NOW."

As they walked through the hallways, kids were hanging out of classrooms to get a glimpse of the Booger Cannon. Teachers were whispering to each other. Even the lunch ladies had come out of the cafeteria to see what all the excitement was about.

"Finn!" Ashley called from her classroom doorway. "You're famous!"

"I know!" Finn called back, grinning.

"This is not something to be proud of!" Principal Morrison snapped.

"Why not? I'm the most accurate booger shooter in the history of the world!"

"That's not a real accomplishment!"

"Tell that to the 2.3 million people who watched my video."

Principal Morrison's eye was twitching so hard it looked like it might fall out.

In the office, Principal Morrison sat behind his desk looking like he was having a breakdown.

"Finn," he said slowly, "this has gotten completely out of hand."

"I know! Isn't it awesome?"

"It's not awesome! It's a nightmare! I have reporters asking if we're going to add booger darts to our PE curriculum! Parents demanding that their kids get lessons from you! The superintendent wants to know why our school is famous for biological projectiles!"

"Sounds like I'm bringing positive attention to Roosevelt Middle School," Finn said cheerfully.

"Positive attention?! We're known as the BOOGER SCHOOL!"

"Better than being known as the boring school."

Principal Morrison made the deflating sound.

"Finn, you have to stop this."

"Stop what? Being good at something?"

"Stop encouraging other children to shoot boogers!"

"I'm not encouraging them. They're just inspired by my natural talent."

"Your natural talent is causing chaos!"

"My natural talent is bringing joy to millions of people worldwide."

"It's bringing DISGUST to millions of people worldwide!"

"Same thing, but mine sounds better."

Principal Morrison stared at Finn like he was a puzzle that couldn't be solved.

"What is it going to take to get you to stop shooting boogers at school?"

"Nothing," Finn said simply. "Because I'm not shooting boogers at school."

"You shot one at the exit sign!"

"That was last week. I've learned better targeting discipline since then."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I only shoot at appropriate targets in appropriate locations. Like dartboards. In designated areas. During approved times."

Principal Morrison looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the Roosevelt Middle School Precision Dart Club that Mrs. Chen is starting for me."

"The what?"

"Didn't you read her proposal? She submitted it this morning. Official school club, supervised by a teacher, focused on developing hand-eye coordination and spatial reasoning through alternative sporting activities."

"Alternative sporting activities?"

"Booger darts," Finn explained patiently. "But we call it 'precision biological projectile sports' in the official paperwork."

Principal Morrison looked like his brain was short-circuiting.

"Mrs. Chen wants to start a BOOGER DART CLUB?"

"She wants to start a club that harnesses student interest in accuracy-based activities for educational purposes," Finn corrected. "The booger part is just the delivery method."

"I'm not approving a booger dart club!"

"Why not? It's just sports. With unusual equipment."

"Unusual equipment?! It's NOSE DISCHARGE!"

"It's biodegradable, sustainable, and self-replenishing," Finn pointed out. "Very environmentally conscious."

Principal Morrison was making sounds like a broken engine trying to start.

Before he could respond, Mrs. Chen knocked on the office door.

"Bill?" she called. "Can I talk to you about Finn's club proposal?"

"THERE IS NO CLUB PROPOSAL!"

Mrs. Chen came in holding a folder. "Actually, there is. I submitted it first thing this morning. The kids are incredibly interested in the physics and mathematics involved in Finn's techniques. This could be a great way to teach trajectory calculations, velocity formulas, and aerodynamic principles."

"Using BOOGERS!"

"Using practical applications that students are already excited about," Mrs. Chen corrected. "Finn has inadvertently created more interest in applied physics than I've seen in twenty years of teaching."

"I don't care if he's created interest in quantum mechanics! We cannot have an official booger dart club!"

"Why not?" Finn asked. "If it's educational?"

"Because..." Principal Morrison struggled. "Because it's gross!"

"So is dissecting worms in biology," Mrs. Chen pointed out. "But we still do that because it's educational."

"That's different!"

"How?"

Principal Morrison opened his mouth, then closed it, then made a sound like he was choking on his own confusion.

"Fine," he said weakly. "But it has to be after school only. And you have to call it something other than 'booger darts.'"

"How about 'Precision Biological Projectile Sports?'" Finn suggested.

"How about 'Precision Athletics Club?'" Mrs. Chen offered.

"Fine. Whatever. Just... keep it contained."

As Finn left the office with official approval for his club, he realized he'd accomplished something incredible: he'd forced the adults to accept his disgusting talent as a legitimate activity.

Walking down the hallway, kids were still cheering for him. Teachers were nodding respectfully. Even the janitor, Mr. Peterson, gave him a thumbs up.

"Nice work, Cannon," Mr. Peterson said. "My grandson saw your video. Says you're his hero."

And that's when Finn McGillicuddy realized he'd achieved something he'd never thought possible: he'd become genuinely cool.

Not weird-cool or funny-cool or popular-by-accident-cool.

Actually, legitimately, undeniably cool.

He was the Booger Cannon, first-ever Underground Champion, founder of Roosevelt Middle School's most popular club, and the most accurate nose marksman in recorded history.

And tomorrow, he was going to teach twenty-three kids how to be just like him.

Life was absolutely perfect.

Epilogue: The Legend Lives Forever

Six months later, Finn McGillicuddy stood in front of the largest crowd he'd ever seen, holding a trophy that was almost as tall as he was.

The First Annual International Youth Precision Sports Championship had attracted competitors from twelve countries, news crews from six major networks, and a live-streaming audience of over ten million people.

And Finn had just won the whole thing with a shot so impossible that the judges had to review it in slow motion three times to believe it was real.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer called out, "your International Youth Precision Sports Champion... FINN 'THE BOOGER CANNON' MCGILLICUDDY!"

The crowd went absolutely wild. Kids were screaming, parents were cheering, and somewhere in the audience, Principal Morrison was actually applauding.

"Finn!" called a reporter from ESPN Kids. "How does it feel to be the most famous precision sports athlete in the world?"

"Pretty amazing," Finn replied, holding up his trophy. "A year ago, I was just some random kid who wasn't good at anything. Now I'm the world champion of something nobody even knew existed."

"What's next for the Booger Cannon?"

Finn grinned and looked out at the crowd, where he could see Tyler, Ashley, Derek, Jake, and all his friends from The Roosevelt Middle School Precision Athletics Club.

"Teaching other kids that being weird doesn't mean being bad at stuff," he said. "It just means you're good at stuff that other people haven't figured out yet."

"Any advice for kids who want to follow in your footsteps?"

"Yeah. Find what you're awesome at, even if it's gross. Practice until you're unstoppable. And never let anyone tell you that your talent doesn't matter just because it's different."

As the crowd cheered and cameras flashed, Finn realized he'd learned something important: sometimes the weirdest kids have the most amazing gifts.

You just have to be brave enough to let your freak flag fly.

And maybe gross enough to shoot boogers at things.

But mostly brave.

THE END

Coming Next: "Booger Cannon vs. The World" - When international competitors challenge Finn's title, things get messy... and awesome!

Fun Facts:

• Finn's world record shot was 127 feet with a moving target

• The Roosevelt Alternative Accuracy Athletics Club now has 847 members across 23 schools

• Principal Morrison eventually admitted that Finn "revolutionized youth sports forever"

• Mrs. Henderson's rose garden is still recovering

• No actual dart boards were harmed in the making of this story (okay, maybe a few)

WARNING: Do not attempt any of Finn's techniques at home, school, or in international competition without proper training, adult supervision, and really good aim. The author is not responsible for any gross-out incidents, damaged property, or accidental world records that may result from reading this book.