by R. L. Stine
As Maggie, Laci, and I stared in amazement, the blond-haired rat turned and ran, squeaking and squealing. We watched her scuttle over the floor until she disappeared into a hole in the wall.
Slappy giggled. “Goldie has some good magic in this book. Thanks for finding her diary for me. You kids aren’t as dumb as you look.”
“So … can we go?” I asked. “You’ve got what you want.”
“It’s been a horrible day for us,” Maggie said. “Please—can we go?”
“You promised—” Laci said.
Slappy returned to the diary. He bowed his head as he read. “Just one more trick,” he said. “Let me find it in here.”
“Please—” I said. “Can we—”
“Let’s give it a try,” Slappy said. “It’s sort of a mind-control thing.”
“Huh?” I gasped. “Mind control?”
“Yes. This could be fun.” He held the book close to his face. His eyes moved from side to side as he read aloud: “Kolonu Peeta Reeta Morano!”
I felt a buzzing in my head. And saw a flash of bright light in front of my eyes.
We all stood there in silence for a long moment.
Then Slappy said, “Okay. I think we’re ready to go. How about it?”
“Definitely,” I said. “Can I hold the door for you, sir?”
“Take my arm, sir,” Maggie said. “How can I serve you?”
“Let me serve you,” Laci said.
“We all want to take good care of you, sir,” I said. “We are ready to do anything you wish.”
“Yes, we can’t wait to serve you,” Maggie said.
Slappy giggled. “Goldie had the BEST tricks. I’m going to hold on to this diary forever!”
“Can I carry it for you, sir?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. I’ll keep it.”
I held the door and allowed him to step out first. “After you, sir,” I said.
“We’ll go to your house,” Slappy said. “I think I’m going to like it there.” He laughed. “Won’t your dad be pleasantly surprised! He’s probably running low on cockroaches. I’ll see what I can do about that! Hahahaha!”
Haha. I love a story with a happy ending!
It’s like a beautiful fairy tale come true, isn’t it?
And so, Slappy defeated his enemy and lived happily ever after with his hardworking new servants …
Hey, you know I’m a nice guy. I don’t ask much of my servants. Just that they shine my shoes and polish my face every morning. Hahaha.
I may start to write a new diary. It’s cruel of me not to share every one of my thoughts with the world.
I’ll also share another story with you next time, when I return with another Goosebumps SlappyWorld book.
Remember, this is SlappyWorld.
You only scream in it!
How I Became a Superhero
By Mason Brady
I’m Mason Brady, and that’s the title of the paper I’d like to write for Mrs. Stuckhouse, my sixth-grade teacher.
It’s an exciting story, with lots of adventure and surprises. And, trust me, all kinds of danger. And I’m sure I would get an A+ or at least an A on it.
But, of course, I can’t write it. Because it’s the truth.
It has to remain a big, fat, superhero secret.
If I tell anyone, I will lose all my powers. And then where would I be? Doomed. And my enemies would celebrate.
My identity has to remain hush-hush. Actually, I’m not even sure about my secret identity myself. I mean, it’s very confusing. How many twelve-year-olds have to worry about a secret identity?
Okay. Let’s put it this way—I’m trying to figure out how to tell you about who I was and who I am now and what happened in between.
Well, start at the beginning, Mason.
That’s how I talk to myself sometimes. It helps me untangle my thoughts.
So here goes …
The story starts at my favorite place on earth. The Comic Book Characters Hall of Fame Museum.
The museum is actually an old mansion located at the edge of Fargo Hills, about an hour’s drive from my house. It’s high on a hill, surrounded by tall, bending trees that cast the entire building in dark shadow.
It has a round stone tower on one end and several chimneys sticking up on its slanting roof. I think it looks more like a castle than a house.
As Dad pulled the car into the parking lot, my heart was pounding. It was like a drum beat. I could hear it bumping in my ears. That’s how excited I was.
My ten-year-old sister, Stella, sat next to me in the back seat. She was pretending to be excited, too. She likes to make me nuts by copying me all the time. Stella isn’t into comic books or superheroes one bit. She doesn’t even know who the Avengers are. I asked her to name them and she just giggled.
Even her looks copy me. We’re both tall. We both have short black hair and dark eyes and serious faces.
Why does she have to look like me? It’s so annoying.
For the whole drive, she kept poking me and asking dumb questions.
“Mason, would you rather have the power to fly or be invisible?”
I pushed her away. “I don’t want to play that game, Stella.”
She grinned at me. “If you were a superhero, what color costume would you wear?”
I knew she was only asking the questions to drive me crazy. She didn’t even wait to hear my answers. “What would your superhero name be, Mason? Would you rather be good or evil? What special power would you have?”
“The power to make you shut up?” I replied.
“Stop that, Mason!” Mom snapped. She twisted around in the passenger seat. “Stella is trying to have a conversation with you.”
“No, she isn’t,” I said. “She’s just being a pest. She isn’t into comics at all.”
“Well, you can teach her,” Dad said.
He always takes Stella’s side. She’s his little princess.
“You can be her tour guide,” Mom said.
I just groaned.
What can you say after a horrible idea like that?
I’m very serious about superheroes and comic book art. I draw my own comic strips, and I think I’m getting better and better.
My superhero is called Double-Header. That’s because he has two heads. One head is good. The other head is evil. I think Double-Header is the first two-headed superhero in history.
I show my comic drawings to my friends at school. They all say I’m a genius. I can’t tell if they’re being sarcastic or not.
Sarcastic was one of our vocabulary words, and it’s a good one. I use it a lot.
I showed one of my comics to Mrs. Stuckhouse, and she said, “Wonderful, wonderful.” But she was in a hurry and hardly looked at it.
I gazed out the window as we pulled into the museum parking lot. “Wow!” I couldn’t help but let out a cry when I spotted the tall bronze statue at the entrance. The statue of the Silver Centipede.
The Silver Centipede was the first superhero inducted into the Hall of Fame. And The Man of 100 Legs, as he is known, became the symbol of the museum.
One of my most awesome T-shirts has the big silvery Centipede on the front. I don’t wear it very often. It’s too valuable. I’ve tried drawing the Silver Centipede. But it’s very hard. I always mess up the legs.
I leaped out of the car before Dad even shut off the engine. “YAAAY! We’re HERE!” I jumped up and down. I felt like I could explode, with my whole body flying off in different directions. That’s how excited I was.
I trotted ahead of the others as we crossed the gravel parking lot toward the entrance. Dad hurried after me and put a hand on my shoulder. “Now I know you’re excited, Mason,” he said. “And I want you to have the time of your life, here. But I just want to ask one thing.”
“Okay,” I said. “What’s that?”
“It’s a very big museum. Don’t wander off. Let’s all stick together, okay?”
“Sure, Dad,” I
said.
I was being sarcastic.
My plan was to get away from them as fast as I could.
And, of course, that’s how all the trouble started.
My head began to spin when we stepped into the very first room of the museum. The walls were covered with huge paintings of the greatest comic heroes of all time.
My eyes darted from painting to painting. I didn’t know where to begin.
The White Raven stood next to Harvey the Horrible. Guppy Girl, with her fins of steel, was riding a tsunami across a raging ocean.
The picture of The Flattener was painted by one of my favorite comic artists, Min Li. The hero’s name is really Henry Punch. But he got that nickname because he leaves his enemies as flat as pancakes.
Will I ever be able to draw this well?
That’s the question I asked myself as I moved slowly across the room, studying each painting.
I wondered if Min Li or any of the other artists ever gave drawing lessons.
Stella bumped me from the side. “Where is Swamp Baby?” she asked. “I love Swamp Baby.”
“Go away,” I said. “This is the best art ever done. Swamp Baby is for little kids.”
Stella made her pouty face. “I don’t care. I think Swamp Baby is cute.” She bumped me again.
“Why don’t you go to the baby room?” I said. “You can find all your favorites there. They have Goo Goo Girl and Captain Diaper Rash. That sounds like something you’d like.”
“Be nice to your sister,” Dad said. “She just wants to learn.”
I gritted my teeth and growled.
Princess Stella can do no wrong.
I trotted away from Stella and led the way into the next room. It was filled with long, glass display cases. The cases had superhero costumes inside.
I hurried to the first case and lowered my face to the glass. I couldn’t believe I was gazing at Lava Lad’s actual costume. It looked just like a blazing red volcano was erupting on it.
“Hey, this one is funny!” Stella exclaimed. She had her face pressed against a display case, rubbing her hands all over the glass. “It’s a joke, right, Mason?”
I walked up to her. “That’s not a joke,” I told her. “That’s The Masked Orangutan.”
She squinted at me. “How can a stupid orangutan be a superhero?”
“He’s not stupid,” I said. “He has the wisdom of seven humans.” I pushed her back. “Get your hands off the glass.”
“Well, why does he wear that stupid mask?” she asked.
“It’s not a stupid mask. He wears it so no one can guess his identity,” I said. I let out a long sigh. I mean, how could she not know that?
I turned to my parents. “Stella is smearing the glass.”
“Her hands are clean,” Dad said. “She won’t hurt anything.”
Sheesh.
I had to get away from my sister. And my parents. The museum wasn’t crowded. In fact, we were the only family I saw. So there was no way they’d lose me.
I waited till Stella and my parents had their backs turned, studying the blue-and-green costume of Sir Seaweed. Then I darted out of the room, through a narrow entrance at the far wall.
I found myself in a long, dimly lit hall. The walls were covered with superhero weapons. Ancient-style battle axes hung next to laser beam weapons. I hurried past silvery swords and golden bows and arrows. Flashes of lightning crackled on the ceiling over my head.
A lot of doors were closed along this hall. I didn’t see anyone else back here. A wide door at the end of the hall stood partly open, pale blue light glowing behind it.
I lowered my head and took off running toward the open door. I was nearly there when I heard footsteps behind me.
I spun around.
“Oh, no.”
Stella came rushing at me. “Wait up! Mason, wait up!”
She ran up to me and slapped my shoulder. “Nice try, Dude. But you lose. You’re stuck with me.” She giggled.
At least, she realized she was a pain.
I just shook my head and uttered a growl. I didn’t say anything.
I turned and led the way through the door. It took a little while for my eyes to adjust to the dim blue light.
When I could finally focus, I saw a tall statue in the center of the room. The hero’s back was turned. I could only see his long cape.
I took two steps toward the statue. Then I stopped when I heard a loud slaaaam.
I spun around. The door had banged shut behind us. I blinked to make sure I was seeing right.
And then I heard a clicccck as the door locked.
I turned to Stella. “Hey—what’s up with that?” I murmured.
R.L. Stine says he gets to scare people all over the world. So far, his books have sold more than 400 million copies, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. The Goosebumps series has more than 150 titles and has inspired a TV series and two motion pictures. R.L. himself is a character in the movies! He has also written the teen series Fear Street, and the Mostly Ghostly and Nightmare Room series. He is currently writing a series of graphic novels entitled Just Beyond. R.L. Stine lives in New York City with his wife, Jane, an editor and publisher. You can learn more about him at rlstine.com.
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#9 REVENGE OF THE INVISIBLE BOY
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SAY CHEESE AND DIE!
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HOW I GOT MY SHRUNKEN HEAD
THE WEREWOLF OF FEVER SWAMP
A NIGHT IN TERROR TOWER
WELCOME TO DEAD HOUSE
WELCOME TO CAMP NIGHTMARE
GHOST BEACH
THE SCARECROW WALKS AT MIDNIGHT
YOU CAN’T SCARE ME!
RETURN OF THE MUMMY
REVENGE OF THE LAWN GNOMES
PHANTOM OF THE AUDITORIUM
VAMPIRE BREATH
STAY OUT OF THE BASEMENT
A SHOCKER ON SHOCK STREET
LET’S GET INVISIBLE!
NIGHT OF THE LIVING DUMMY 2
NIGHT OF THE LIVING DUMMY 3
THE ABOMINABLE SNOWMAN OF PASADENA
THE BLOB THAT ATE EVERYONE
THE GHOST NEXT DOOR
THE HAUNTED CAR
ATTACK OF THE GRAVEYARD GHOULS
PLEASE DON’T FEED THE VAMPIRE
THE HEADLESS GHOST
THE HAUNTED MASK 2
BRIDE OF THE LIVING DUMMY
ATTACK OF THE JACK-O’-LANTERNS
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IT CAME FROM OHIO!: MY LIFE AS A WRITER by R.L. Stine
Goosebumps book series created by Parachute Press, Inc.
Copyright © 2020 b
y Scholastic Inc.
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, GOOSEBUMPS, GOOSEBUMPS HORRORLAND, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First printing 2020
Cover design by Maeve Norton
Cover art by Brandon Dorman
e-ISBN 978-1-338-35574-1
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