I was relieved when Chauncey followed Iggy to the kitchen to check out the “marsho-wowows.” With any luck, they’ll keep playing together until dinnertime, I thought.
“Okay, Alistair,” I said. “So how do we build this Brocco-bot?” I still wasn’t too excited about Alistair’s Brocco-bot idea, but I figured it was better than getting dragged into a game of Squidboy versus the Blue Freaks with Chauncey and Iggy. I especially wanted to avoid Chauncey because his suspicious questions about the disappearing paper made me nervous. What if Chauncey figured out the truth—that Alistair is actually an alien? I realized Iggy might blab something about getting transported to Planet Blaron, but since Iggy often talks about all kinds of imaginary things, I figured Chauncey wouldn’t pay much attention to him.
ALISTAIR WAS JUST SHOWING ME how to install a tiny motor in our Brocco-bot when we heard loud crashing and shouting noises coming from upstairs. It sounded like Iggy and Chauncey were playing a game of Squidboy that was getting out of control. I kept expecting to hear my mom or dad run upstairs and tell them to stop, but no grown-ups seemed to be around.
Then I noticed something that worried me: “Hey, Alistair,” I said, “where’s your watch?”
Alistair’s face turned pale when he looked down at his wrist and realized that his watch was gone. “Oh no. . . . I never got it back from Iggy after he borrowed it to watch cartoons on Spaceship Bumblepod!” Alistair jumped to his feet and ran from the room.
“See?” I called, following Alistair up the stairs. “I knew it was a bad idea to let Iggy borrow that watch!”
Upstairs, we found Iggy and Chauncey fighting over Alistair’s watch, which (luckily!) was still on Iggy’s wrist.
I knew I should try to separate the two of them right away, but I hesitated because it was actually kind of funny to see Iggy pinning Chauncey to the ground. I hesitated for a moment, just watching them.
Alistair was just relieved that Iggy hadn’t accidentally used the watch to send himself to some distant planet.
“Um, excuse me, Iggy,” said Alistair, “could I please have my watch back?”
“NEVER!” said Iggy. “Dis watch MINES!”
Alistair just stared at Iggy. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Welcome to the world of little brothers, Alistair.” I fixed Iggy with my most serious big-brother stare. “Iggy,” I said, “you KNOW that watch does NOT belong to you, so give it back RIGHT NOW.”
Iggy burst into tears. “IT MINES! Awistair say I can HAVE it!”
“I said you could borrow it,” Alistair explained.
“Big mistake,” I muttered.
Iggy sobbed. As he wiped his nose with his sleeve, I noticed that he relaxed his grip on Chauncey for a moment. I decided we should seize the opportunity to get Alistair’s watch back: “Now!” I whispered to Alistair. “I’ll hold him; you grab the watch!”
Alistair and I made a dive for Iggy and the watch.
Apparently Chauncey had the same idea because he suddenly managed to wriggle out of Iggy’s grasp.
Unfortunately for all three of us, Iggy’s reflexes were a lot faster than we expected.
And unfortunately for Chauncey, that’s when something really terrible happened:
“WHOA!” Iggy’s eyes grew wide as the Gobblebox shook and jumped around like a creature coming to life.
What was happening to Chauncey in there?
“This is bad.” Alistair looked even paler than he did when he first learned that Iggy ate his research insects. “I think Iggy activated the Insta-Monster function on the watch.”
“The insta-what?”
“Insta-Monster combines the molecular structures of two or more objects and creates a completely new life-form—a creature that has the worst characteristics of each of its components.”
I stared at the box, which actually seemed to be alive—almost breathing. “You mean,” I said—
“Yes,” said Alistair. “A Chauncey-Gobblebox monster is forming right in front of us.”
A monster with all of Chauncey Morbyd’s worst qualities?! “Alistair,” I said, “we have to stop it!”
I grabbed Iggy’s arms and shook him. “Iggy, give Alistair his watch right now, so Alistair can stop this!”
“NO!” Iggy shouted, pulling away from me and grinning at the jumping Gobblebox. He was obviously enjoying the sound of Chauncey’s muffled voice, calling for help from inside the box. “MY WATCH!” Iggy yelled. “MY GOBBO-BOX!”
To Iggy, this is all a big, entertaining game, I thought. I had to admit that I could understand why he didn’t want to give back the watch. Why would he give up the watch now that he could make such exciting things happen?
“Iggy,” I said, trying to make my voice sound calmer, “you have to listen. If you don’t give Alistair the watch, Chauncey is going to turn into a REAL MONSTER.”
“What kind of monster he be?”
“I don’t know what kind! Just give me—”
“It’s too late,” Alistair yelled. “Duck and cover NOW!”
WHEN THE DUST SETTLED, we stared and stared at what used to be the Gobblebox—and what used to be Chauncey. Now, instead of two things, there was one horrible creature—something that should never exist on Earth or any other planet.
The creature was shaped like a giant cube that wore Chauncey’s clothes. I could see Chauncey’s little features—his beady eyes and small ears and nose on the surface of the cube—but most of the boxy body was a huge, drooling mouth.
From across the room, I could smell the monster’s marshmallow-breath. The monster’s hair was a clumpy mass of Technobloks; his hands were like robot claws made from bits of Planet Blaster vehicles.
“Yuck,” said Iggy, looking at the Chauncey-monster. “No like it.”
“Gobbo,” said the monster. “Gobbo-gobbo!”
Iggy giggled. “He say, ‘gobbo-gobbo’!”
This made the monster angry. The Gobblebox monster stood up and ROARED at Iggy.
We all screamed and dove under my parents’ bed to hide. Was this going to be the end of us? I wondered. Were the three of us going to be eaten by Chauncey Morbyd in monster form?
But instead of coming after us, the monster turned and clomped heavily down the stairs yelling “GOBBO-GOBBO-GOBBO!!”
If this monster has Chauncey’s worst qualities, I thought, he’ll definitely head for the kitchen to look for a sugary snack.
We heard a scream from downstairs. It was Dottie.
“I help you, Dottie!” Iggy jumped to his feet and raced downstairs to rescue Dottie from the monster. Alistair and I followed close behind.
But it turned out the monster wasn’t interested in Dottie or the dolls she kept throwing at him.
Just as I suspected, the Chauncey-Gobblebox monster stood in the kitchen, tossing anything sweet he could find into his giant mouth.
“Alistair,” I whispered, “what are we going to do?”
“I’m not sure,” said Alistair. “I’ve never reversed an insta-monster before.”
“Well, this is probably a good time to try!”
By now, the Gobblebox had eaten everything sugary he could find in the refrigerator and he was growing restless. He drank from a carton of milk but threw it on the ground when he realized it wasn’t chocolate milk. He opened a Tupperware container to sample a bite of leftover meat lasagna, but tossed it across the room when he realized it wasn’t sweet. “GOBBO-GOBBO-GOBBO!!” he yelled.
Dottie kept hitting the monster with her doll. “GO ’WAY YOU STINKY, GWOSS BOX-GUY!”
Iggy just giggled as he watched the Gobblebox monster make a huge mess in the kitchen.
“Iggy,” I said, “you have to give Alistair his watch so he can try to free Chauncey from this Gobblebox monster.”
“No,” said Iggy. “Dis watch mines.”
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“IGGY, CHAUNCEY HAS TURNED INTO A MONSTER THAT’S EATING THE ENTIRE REFRIGERATOR, AND YOU STILL WON’T GIVE BACK THE WATCH?!”
Iggy just grinned. “Nope!”
That was the last straw. I tackled Iggy and tried to grab the watch.
But I forgot how extremely strong Iggy had grown in the past day. Instead of grabbing the watch from Iggy, I only managed to press another one of the control buttons by accident.
“Oh no,” said Alistair. “You hit the insta-grow appetite accelerator!”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
We heard a loud gurgling sound that seemed to come from inside the Gobblebox—or from inside Chauncey.
“What dat noise?” Iggy asked.
“He’s hungry,” said Alistair.
“We already know that.”
“I mean he’s REALLY hungry.”
Alistair wasn’t kidding. We stared as the Gobblebox ate the salt-and-pepper shakers and then started on the pots and pans. And when he finished eating the pots and pans, he gobbled up the telephone, my mom’s address book, some silverware, a pot holder, and some of Iggy’s and Dottie’s babyish artwork.
“Stop!” Iggy shouted. “Dat my dwawing!”
“See, Iggy?” I pointed at the Gobblebox, who was now eating our television. “If you don’t give Alistair that watch right now, the monster is going to eat ALL OF OUR TOYS!”
“And it will eat your whole house,” said Alistair. “And then he’ll eat my house, and the whole town. Eventually, he’ll eat the planet.”
“Alistair, you don’t have to exaggerate.”
“I’m not exaggerating,” said Alistair. “I’m completely serious.”
I looked at the Gobblebox monster and saw that it had grown. It was so tall, its flat head now pressed up against the ceiling.
“The appetite-accelerator button speeds up the monster’s growth,” Alistair explained. “Everything it eats gives it more energy to consume. This Gobblebox monster will literally eat the entire universe if we don’t find a way to shut it down in the next few minutes!”
The monster did seem to be eating twice as fast, now putting anything and everything into its mouth. Dottie screamed as it tossed her favorite stuffed animal into its mouth pit.
A tiny drip of common sense must have finally seeped into Iggy’s brain, because he reluctantly removed the watch from his wrist. But just as he was handing it over to Alistair, a giant Technoblok hand reached down and snatched the watch away.
Alistair, Iggy, Dottie, and I all watched in horror as the Gobblebox gulped down Alistair’s watch.
“Give it back!” I pounded on the monster’s flat, cardboard back. “Chauncey Morbyd, I know you’re in there somewhere!” I shouted. “You have to give us that watch!”
“He probably can’t understand you,” Alistair explained. “Remember, the monster most likely has only Chauncey’s appetite—not his intelligence.”
The monster chuckled. “Heh, heh, gobbo-gobbo, heh!”
Suddenly I felt the cold squeeze of plastic Technoblok fingers around my waist as the monster lifted me toward his dank mouth filled with sharp, plaque-stained teeth.
I closed my eyes and braced for the worst.
I SQUEEZED MY EYES SHUT and braced for the impact of Chauncey’s monster teeth. This is it! I thought.
Far below, I heard Iggy and Dottie screaming: “NOOOOO! PUT DANO DOWN!!”
But then something completely amazing happened: instead of sharp teeth, something green and lumpy bumped me in the head—a bunch of broccoli!
The monster didn’t like broccoli; it coughed and gagged. Finally, the Gobblebox spit me out onto the floor.
“Hooray!” Dottie shouted and clapped. “Dat monster hate veggies!”
“Good thinking, Dottie!” said Alistair.
But now the Gobblebox was angrier than ever. He punched a wall with a Technoblok fist and cracked the plaster.
“Where’s Iggy?” I asked.
Alistair pointed up toward the ceiling. And that’s when I saw something unbelievable: Iggy was perched upside down on the ceiling, just as if he were a housefly or a spider. Even more amazing: Iggy had somehow grown big insect wings.
So it happened, I thought. Iggy has actu-ally turned into an insect-boy. I hadn’t expected it to happen so suddenly. But then, I hadn’t expected to travel to outer space or watch Chauncey turn into a monster either.
“The stress of seeing you being attacked by the Gobblebox monster must have activated Iggy’s insect DNA,” Alistair explained.
“IGGY!” Dottie had just now spied her brother perched on the ceiling overhead. “HOW YOU GET WINGS?”
“THEY GROWDED ON ME SO I CAN SAVE YOU!” Iggy yelled. “I SAVE YOU FROM DAT MONSTER, DOTTIE! I SAVE YOU, AWISTAIR AND DANO!”
Then Iggy attacked the Gobblebox.
IT WAS FUNNY HOW, after seeing so many strange things during the past few hours, the sight of my little brother flying around the room like a giant insect seemed almost normal. Well, maybe not normal—just not as shocking as you would think. Besides, Iggy really seemed to be enjoying himself.
“Iggy, you a superkid!” said Dottie.
We all cheered for Iggy, who just grinned and flew around the room. He looked very happy to be part insect, at least for the moment.
“Iggy!” Dottie shouted. “Give me a ride!”
Iggy stopped and let Dottie climb on his back for a bug ride through the air. Dottie giggled like crazy as Iggy soared over the wreckage in our kitchen.
Who knows, I thought, maybe life as an insect-boy might be perfect for Iggy.
But I didn’t have any more time to think about Iggy’s future because Alistair and I had some big problems to solve. For one thing, the house looked like about five tornados had blown through it. For another thing, we had a giant, unconscious monster pinned to the ground—a hideous monster that contained Chauncey.
Chauncey’s mother would soon be calling him home for dinner. How would we explain what had happened to her son?
“Iggy? Daniel? Dottie? Where are you?”
I heard my mom calling for us; she and my dad were still outside raking the leaves.
“I’ll look over at Chauncey’s house,” I heard my dad say. “You could check the new kid’s house next door.”
“Alistair,” I said, “my mom and dad are going to come back inside any minute, so there’s no way we’ll be able to keep them from finding out what happened.”
“Maybe,” said Alistair, wiping some monster slime from his watch, “but I might have just enough time to fix this.” Alistair opened his watch’s communications screen and tapped out an emergency message.
I saw the little bubbles inside his watch moving in response to his communication.
“Okay,” Alistair said, apparently reading some instructions from Spaceship Bumblepod. “We might be able to get this under control if we get some help.”
“We need an army of help,” I said.
“Exactly,” said Alistair. “Quick—go gather a bunch of toys. We’ll need as many robots as possible.”
Suddenly, I understood Alistair’s idea: his watch can generate instant robots to help us fix everything!
I ran to my room and gathered the Brocco-bot and the vehicles we had managed to sneak out of the Gobblebox earlier. Then I grabbed a bunch of dolls and stuffed animals from Dottie’s room and brought everything back to Alistair.
Alistair tapped a series of commands on his watch and the next thing we knew, a team of small robots got busy picking up broken glass, wiping up spilled lasagna, sealing cracked plaster on the wall, and repairing broken furniture. It was awesome, like something out of a fairy tale!
“The house already looks better,” I said, watching the robots scurrying around at high speed. “But what about the Chauncey Monster lying here on
the floor?”
“My colleagues on the Bumblepod gave me a special code to reverse the chemical reactions that fused Chauncey and the Gobblebox into a monster.”
“You mean, Chauncey will go back to being a semi-normal boy again?”
“I’ll do my best.” Alistair tapped a complicated pattern of controls on his watch. “We’re lucky that Iggy managed to subdue the monster just in time. Once an insta-monster gets large enough to consume an entire building, it’s usually impossible to return to its component parts.” Alistair aimed his watch’s monster-reversal function directly at the Gobblebox monster. “Okay,” he said, “let’s reverse this insta-monster! Let’s separate the boy from the Gobblebox!”
“Don’t forget to separate the Technobloks, too,” I whispered.
A laser beam struck the Gobblebox monster on the forehead and its eyes flew open. The monster’s Technoblok hair and fingers twitched.
Next, we heard a rumbling sound, and the Gobblebox’s entire body shook.
And then:
“Way to go, Alistair!” I held up my hand to give Alistair a high five. He looked confused for a moment, but then he slapped my hand.
Chauncey rubbed his head. “What happened? Where am I?”
“You passed out after eating too many marshmallows,” I fibbed.
“Wait,” said Chauncey, “wasn’t I upstairs just a minute ago?”
“No,” I lied. “You’ve been down here the whole time.”
Chauncey frowned. “I don’t feel so good.”
“Maybe you better lie down on the couch for a minute before you walk home,” said Alistair, helping Chauncey up from the floor.
“Uh, okay,” said Chauncey. “But just for a minute.”
Chauncey allowed Alistair to guide him to the couch as if he were a little old lady. “Nice watch,” Chauncey mumbled, glancing at Alistair’s wrist before he curled up and began snoring.
Alistair gestured toward the front room. “Psst!” Alistair whispered, pointing. “Iggy!”
Iggy Loomis, Superkid in Training Page 7