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Henry Winkler, Lin Oliver and Jesse Joshua Watson bring you yet another Hank Zipzer adventure. This time, the world's greatest underachiever is failing math at the very same time he's cast as the King in his school's production of "The King and I." Hank has been given an ultimatum by his dad: improve your grades.

..or give up the crown.

Can Hank hit the books and perform as well? Will he learn why the show must go on? Here's an excerpt from the book: When we got to school the next morning, Frankie, Ashley, and I went directly to the multipurpose room.

McKelty had already been named the king, and I wasn’t sure whether Devore would let me back into the play.
When we walked in, Nick McKelty was standing on the stage, wearing my costume. Devore was supervising Mrs.

Crock, who was kneeling in front of McKelty, putting pins in the golden pantaloons. Oh, no, it looked like they had already added more fabric to make the pants stretch around McKelty’s tree-trunklike waist. My heart started to sink.

I was too late.

I raced over to Devore.
“My father said yes,” I blurted out.

Devore looked at Mrs. Crock, who was kneeling down with a mouthful of pins, working on letting out the pantaloons. She had turned McKelty around, so his big bubble butt was staring us right in the face.

Wow, it took a lot to cover up that big, round thing. I didn’t know there was that much gold fabric in all of New York.
“I thought your father forbid you,” Devore said to me.

“It’s a long story,” I said. “But he finally said yes.”
Devore was quiet, not jumping up and down with joy like I had hoped he would.

“But the costume . . .

” Devore said, his voice trailing off. “And yesterday, we changed some of the staging.”
Mrs.

Crock turned McKelty another quarter turn, so he was now facing us. Poor lady had run out of pins.
“Hey, Zipperbutt, check me out,” McKelty said.

“Now you can finally see what a king is supposed to look like. I was born to wear gold.”
“Lots of important producers have already called, asking me to leave school and star in their Broadway plays,” Nick went on, giving Devore a blast of the McKelty factor at work.

“But I’m going to leave them all dangling for a while. Give Hollywood a chance to call—then weigh my offers.”
“That does it,” Devore said, like he had just awakened from a horrible dream.

“Mr. McKelty, thank you so much for filling in during Hank’s absence, but as in the real theater, the understudy must step aside when the original star is able to return.