Suddenly, the computer lab melted away. The hum of monitors became the sizzle of griddles. The smell of musty carpets turned into warm vanilla and melted cheese. Leo looked down—he was wearing an apron. A name tag read “Leo, Junior Chef.”
It was a gray Tuesday afternoon in Mr. Henderson’s computer lab. The rain tapped a sleepy rhythm against the windows, and the only sounds were the hum of old monitors and the click-clack of keyboards pretending to type essays. papas games unblocked
He double-clicked.
The screen flickered—then went black.
Leo clicked.