Please Do Not Feed the Weirdo

by R. L. Stine

  “Unbelievable,” Dad murmured. “Just unbelievable.”

  “My mom hurried to school,” he continued. “You met her, Mrs. Keppler. She said she was sorry we moved here.”

  He’s a seriously good liar, I thought. My parents totally believe him.

  “Where is your house?” Dad asked Liam.

  “On Blackwood,” he answered. “But we’re just renting. My dad is trying to get a new job.”

  “What does he do?” Dad asked.

  Robby shrugged. “He’s some kind of engineer.”

  Major lying.

  “Well, welcome to our house, Liam,” Mom said. “I know you’ve had a tough day, as we all have. So it’s nice to have you here.”

  His eyes opened wide. “When do we eat?” he demanded.

  Haha. Robby is a great dinner guest. He’ll eat everything they put in front of him—including the family dog!

  He’s so hungry, he’ll eat everything on his plate—and yours. When he leaves, you won’t have to clean up—because he’ll eat the dishes, too! Hahaha.

  Sure, he has a little “vomit-on-everyone” problem. But no one is perfect, right?

  I had a beautiful dinner party last week. The guest of honor was ME, of course. Know why the dinner conversation was so brilliant? Because I was talking to MYSELF! Hahaha.

  Okay. Let’s get back to Jordan and Karla’s house and see if dinner is a big hit. Or, should I say a SMASH? Hahaha.

  The rain clouds had floated away, and the evening sky was clear. A warm breeze blew through our backyard. Dad decided we’d have a barbecue.

  He piled hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill. Mom, Karla, and I sat on wicker chairs on the patio and watched him move the food around over the charcoal.

  Karla and I love barbecues. The aroma of meat and the crackling of food on the grill is my favorite. But we couldn’t enjoy the dinner tonight, and we sure couldn’t relax.

  The fake Liam sat across from Mom and kept telling her lies about his old school and his old hometown. And all the while, he had his eyes on the grill. And he couldn’t hide his hungry expression as the meat sizzled and browned.

  Karla and I knew he was a monster. And we knew what happened to him when he ate. We both had our fingers crossed. Were we in terrible danger? What would he do if he didn’t get fed? And if he did eat … Whoa!

  He seemed to be getting more and more violent. Would he hurt us? Would he hurt our whole family?

  We were both so tense, we could barely speak. We just sat there watching that hungry look in his eyes and listening to his made-up stories.

  “Almost ready,” Dad announced. “How do you like your hamburgers, Liam? I like mine burnt black. How about you?”

  Liam grinned. “I like them every way,” he said.

  Dad chuckled. But the answer sent chills down my back.

  While Dad worked his spatula magic, the three of us kids helped Mom set the picnic table. Our patio stretches along the back of our house. So we have room for a picnic table, a barbecue grill, and even a nice big hammock.

  When Mom went into the house to get napkins, Karla and I pulled Liam to the side of the garage. He twisted himself free from us. “What’s your problem?” he snapped.

  “You know our problem,” I said. “It’s you.”

  “Are you going to keep your promise?” Karla demanded.

  He squinted at her. “Promise?”

  “You know what we’re talking about,” I said angrily. “You promised if we brought you home to dinner, you’d be on your best behavior.”

  He tilted his head to one side. “I did?”

  “Stop playing games,” I snapped. “What’s going to happen when we sit down to eat? Are you going to behave?”

  He sneered at me. “Don’t worry about it, Jordan,” he replied. “No worries. Really.”

  He saw Dad watching us. In a loud voice, Liam said, “That was so nice of you both to invite me. We all had a tense day. It was terrible. Now I’m so happy to be here.”

  What a fake.

  Liam turned away from us and went walking toward the grill. “Can I help you, Mr. Keppler?” he asked.

  He didn’t wait for my Dad to answer. He grabbed a sizzling hot hamburger off the grill—in his bare hands! And he shoved the whole thing into his mouth.

  Mom and Dad both cried out in shock.

  Karla and I froze in horror. Liam’s words rang in my ears: “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  Yikes.

  Dad jerked the spatula high as Liam grabbed a couple of burning hot dogs off the grill and stuffed them into his mouth, chewing frantically.

  “Liam—what are you doing?” Mom screamed.

  Dad stumbled back and the spatula flew from his hands. “Stop! This is crazy! You’ll burn yourself!”

  Liam lowered his face to the grill and gobbled up a hamburger with his teeth—like a dog!

  The smoke curled around his face. And when he lifted his head, his cheeks were fiery red. And he opened his mouth wide and began to shoot orange vomit over the grill.

  “NOOOOOOO!” “HELLLLLP!”

  Mom and Dad were shrieking in horror. Karla and I knew what was coming. And we knew we were helpless to stop it.

  The monster spewed thick orange vomit over the picnic table. Then he turned his head and splashed the disgusting orange liquid over my mom.

  She screamed and covered her head with both hands. Too late.

  I watched Liam begin to change. Saw the ugly green fur poke out of his skin. Saw his face become a snarling creature face as he grew taller … taller. He rose up over us, snarling, grunting, vomit dribbling down the front of his green fur.

  “It—it’s the MONSTER!” Dad shouted, his eyes wide with horror. “You two brought home the monster!”

  Robby slid another hamburger off the grill and shoved it into his mouth. Chewing noisily, he grabbed the side of the barbecue grill—and heaved it over.

  The grill clattered onto its side. Hamburgers and hot dogs toppled off, and the grill tray clanged to the stone patio. Red-hot charcoal tumbled over Dad’s shoes. He uttered a cry and stumbled back.

  The charcoal spread over the patio. “Get the fire extinguisher!” Mom screamed.

  But Karla and I were watching Robby as he took off, running toward the neighbors’ yard, monster head tilted back, roaring at the sky.

  “Don’t let him get away!” Dad screamed.

  Dad took off, lowering his shoulder like a football tackle and running hard. “Stop!” he screamed. “Stop right there!”

  The monster turned and snarled at him, raking his big claws angrily in the air. But Dad kept running.

  Karla and I chased after him.

  “No!” I screamed. “Dad—don’t! Dad—stop! Nooooo. Stop!”

  Dad ran up behind the galloping monster and took a running leap. Dad’s feet left the ground and he spread his arms to bring the creature down in a flying tackle.

  “Oh noooo.” A cry escaped my lips as I watched Dad miss. The monster darted ahead, and Dad smashed facedown into the grass.

  He hit hard. He made an “Oooof” sound. The impact must have knocked his breath out. He didn’t move.

  Mom was using the fire extinguisher on the burning coals. Karla and I went running toward Dad. But we stopped when we saw the monster spin around.

  He froze, his furry arms raised high. He stared at us.

  Dad groaned, still flat on his stomach on the grass.

  The big creature stepped over him, then began to trot, snapping his jaw, making ugly grunting sounds.

  “Look out!” I screamed. “He’s coming back!”

  His paws thundered loudly over our lawn as he roared back. He lowered his head menacingly and made a bleating sound like an angry goat.

  “Don’t hurt us!” Karla screamed, covering her face with her hands.

  “Stop! Go away! Go away!” I cried.

  Wheezing loudly, he burst onto the patio. I gave Karla a shove to the side. Then I scrambled out of his way. But he w
asn’t interested in us.

  He made a dive for the picnic table. Then he swept his paw around the plate of hamburger buns. He tilted the plate to his open mouth—and swallowed the buns with a loud gullllp.

  He grabbed the bag of hot dog buns and shoved it into his mouth without opening it. Then he raised his head and opened his mouth in a throaty, gross “Urrrrrrrp.”

  He glanced at Karla, then at me, making whispered grunts. Maybe he was thanking us for dinner. I don’t know. I just wanted him to leave.

  He turned and trotted over the charcoal scattered on the patio, crunching it under his paws. We watched him until he disappeared around the side of the house. Then the three of us hurried to help Dad.

  He was just climbing to his feet, taking deep breaths and working his arms back and forth, testing them.

  “Are you okay?” Mom wrapped her arms around his waist.

  He blinked several times, dazed. “I … I guess.” Then he squinted across the backyard. “Where did he go? Did the monster leave?”

  I nodded. “For now.”

  Dad turned to me. “What do you mean? You think he’ll come back?”

  “He might,” Karla said.

  “He said we’re responsible for him,” I told Dad. “Because we let him out of the carnival.”

  Dad narrowed his eyes, thinking hard. “The carnival …” he murmured.

  “The carnival owner,” Mom said. “He’ll know how to capture him. We have to go back there—right now. The monster is that man’s property, right? So he’ll have to know what has to be done to capture him and bring him back to the carnival.”

  And suddenly, I had a flash. Suddenly, I knew just what to do.

  “I have a plan,” I said. “I have a plan that will definitely work.”

  Manny Ferber greeted us at the front gate to Carnival World. He was dressed again in denim overalls and a plaid lumberjack shirt. His shirt was stained and one sleeve was torn.

  His eyes were bloodshot, and his long hair looked greasy and fell in tangles over his face. Patches of beard clung to his cheeks.

  “Have you seen him?” he demanded. “Have you? I haven’t been able to sleep. Look at me. I’m a total wreck. I saw what he did at your school. I’m so frightened of the damage he could cause.”

  “We saw him again,” I said.

  Ferber pulled the gate open. “Come in. Come in. The park is empty. We don’t open for another hour. We have some time to talk. Can you tell me—?”

  “Let’s get serious,” my dad interrupted. “Do you know how to capture him or not?”

  Ferber shrugged. “Not really. I—”

  “He nearly set my backyard on fire,” Dad said. “He could destroy our entire neighborhood.”

  Ferber shook his head sadly. “I never should have brought him here. I … I thought I could control him. But …”

  I glanced past him to the carnival grounds. People were setting up their food booths. Loud piano music floated out of a large tent. A man in a clown costume was wobbly, practicing walking on tall stilts.

  Happy people. They weren’t worried about a dangerous monster.

  A monster I let out. A monster I was responsible for.

  I turned back to Ferber. “I have a plan,” I said. “I think it might work.”

  Everyone stared at me.

  “I’ll try anything,” Ferber said. “I’m completely desperate.”

  I pointed to the picnic grounds at the side of the entrance building. “Can we take a look over there?”

  Ferber nodded. He started to lead the way. It was a wide, grassy area with three long rows of wooden picnic tables. Behind the tables stood an enormous charcoal grill the size of a furnace.

  Tall evergreen trees formed a wall between the picnic section and the carnival grounds. And several of them dotted the area around the wooden picnic tables.

  “My class picnic is going to be here,” I said. “If we can get Robby to come here, you can capture him and put him back in his cage.”

  Ferber brushed a strand of hair from his eyes. “Get him to come here? How?”

  I didn’t answer. I was studying the picnic tables. I found what I was looking for and led everyone down the row of tables. I stopped at a table in front of a wide evergreen tree.

  “I’ll eat my picnic lunch here at this table,” I said. “Robby will show up. He’ll come because he thinks it’s my job to feed him.”

  They all stared at me. They didn’t understand what I had in mind.

  “So you’ll feed him at your class picnic and turn him into a monster?” Karla asked, puzzled.

  I shook my head. “No. Let me finish. Mr. Ferber, you can hide behind this big evergreen tree. You can probably hide a couple of workers back there with you.”

  He turned and stepped behind the wide tree. “Yes. Plenty of room.”

  “And do you have a big net?” I asked. “I’ll get Robby here. He’ll be drooling over the food I’m going to spread all over the table. Before he can eat any of it, you jump out, throw the net over him, and you’ve got him.”

  Ferber’s eyes flashed. “I like it. It might work, Jordan. And you know what? I could hide the cage behind that tree.” He pointed to another tree nearby. “That way, my workers and I wouldn’t have to drag him very far.”

  Karla looked from the picnic table to the tree. “Do you really think it will work?”

  I grinned. “Will Robby be able to resist a big picnic lunch? I don’t think so.”

  Dad patted me on the shoulder. “Jordan, you just may be a genius.”

  But that night I lay wide awake in my bed thinking of all the things that could go wrong.

  What if Robby grabbed some food and ate it before Ferber could throw the net over him? Would a net hold a roaring monster?

  What if Robby disguised himself as one of my friends and ate some of the food before I realized it was him?

  What if he escaped from the net before they could drag him to the cage?

  What if it rained and the class picnic was called off?

  There were so many things that could go wrong. As I tossed and turned and stared at the shifting shadows on my bedroom ceiling, I didn’t feel like a genius.

  I felt like someone who could be in terrible danger.

  But … there was one thing I wasn’t worried about. I knew Robby would be back.

  And sure enough, just as I began to fade into sleep, a loud tap on my bedroom window made me sit up, wide awake.

  Another tap.

  I pushed the covers down and lowered my feet to the floor. Moonlight filled my bedroom window, making it glow like silver.

  I crossed the room to the window and pushed it open.

  “Hi, Robby,” I said.

  He looked pale under the moonlight. His light brown hair fell over one eye. The yellow light made the freckles on his cheeks appear green.

  “I just came to apologize,” he said softly. He stared in at me, his expression sad, almost shy.

  I didn’t say anything. I just gazed out at him.

  “I’m sorry things got out of control,” he said.

  “Out of control?” I replied. “You knocked over the barbecue. You could have burned down my house.”

  “I feel really bad about that,” he said, lowering his eyes. “Seriously. Your parents were so nice to me, and I … I went and ruined the whole barbecue.”

  “Please go away,” I said. “I have to get some sleep.”

  “I just came to apologize,” he said. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

  “You don’t keep your promises,” I replied.

  He shook his head. “No. This time I mean it. I promise it won’t happen again.”

  “Please,” I said. “I have to get some sleep. Tomorrow is our big class picnic.”

  His eyes flashed. He suddenly appeared alert. “Picnic? Really? Where?”

  “It’s at Carnival World,” I told him. “There’s going to be hot dogs and pizza and all kinds of sandwiches and then cookies and cupcakes.�
��

  I knew his mouth was watering. His eyes were wide with excitement.

  “You’d better stay away, Robby,” I said. “Don’t ruin it for everybody.”

  I could see him thinking hard about it. My plan had started to work. Now he knew about the picnic. And I knew there was no way he would miss it.

  “Do you have any food?” he asked in a tiny, pleading voice. “I’m really hungry.”

  “No,” I said. “No food. Been there, done that.”

  “Just a little snack?” he asked. “Something to chew on till breakfast?”

  “Good night,” I said, and I shoved the window shut.

  I was halfway back to bed when I heard a tap on the window behind me. I stopped and listened. Another tap.

  I walked back to the window and pulled it open.

  “Good night,” Robby said. “Just wanted to say good night. And don’t worry, Jordan. I’ll stay away from your picnic tomorrow.”

  “You look terrible,” Karla said. “Didn’t you get any sleep?”

  “How could I sleep?” I said. “I’m totally stressed out of my mind, and I’m going to be a wreck until Robby is captured.”

  “Your plan is genius,” she said. “It’s going to work. I know it is.”

  I stared at her. “You’re lying—aren’t you?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. Trying to be positive, you know?”

  We were walking to school on a warm, sunny morning. The air smelled sweet. Birds tweeted in the trees. Nearly summer, but how could I enjoy any of it?

  “If Robby shows up and grabs some food and turns into a monster, people could get hurt,” I said. I held her back as a yellow school bus rumbled past. “Why don’t you ever watch for traffic before you cross?” I scolded.

  She grinned. “I like to live dangerously. Like you.”

  I forced a smile. I didn’t feel like talking at all.

  By the time my class climbed off the school bus at Carnival World for our picnic, I was a trembling, shuddering wreck. Every loud voice made me jump. Every time someone moved toward me quickly, I wanted to scream. Every shadow on the grass made my heart skip a beat.