Return to the Carnival of Horrors

by R. L. Stine

  “This is pretty tough,” Floyd grunts, pulling himself up.

  “Yeah,” Patty agrees, clinging to a gargoyle’s nose. “The only thing worse would be to have something attack us up here.”

  You hear the flutter of wings.

  Uh-oh.

  Turn to PAGE 25.

  “Hey!” you shout. The wind over your head gets stronger and stronger. You raise a hand, trying to fan the wind away.

  Instead, your hand is caught! It feels as if your fingers have been sucked into a vacuum cleaner.

  “Yeeeoooow!” you yell. The wind tears at your wrist. You pull, heave, and swing your arm around. But you can’t break loose of the wind. You glare at the frog-faced man.

  “I thought you said no blue tornado!” you cry.

  “Hey, I kept my promise!” The man’s bulging eyes sparkle gleefully. “Take a look.”

  “Aaaaghh!” you scream. The tornado of light swallows up your shoulder. Now you know why the old lady shrieked. It feels as if your body is being stripped away a spoonful at a time.

  But the frog-faced guy didn’t break his promise.

  You aren’t being eaten up by a blue tornado. You’re being eaten up by a purple one.

  THE END

  “Okay,” you announce. “I won three games. And we have the camera.” You take a deep breath. “I think it’s time to challenge Big Al.”

  “All right!” Patty cheers. “Let’s beat him!”

  You, Patty, and Floyd go back to the tent where you met the ghoul-boy in the knickers. He’s still lurking in the shadows.

  As you walk up, he darts out and grabs your wrist with an icy hand.

  “Did you get it?” he demands in a whisper. His face looks even paler than you remember. “Do you have the camera?”

  Answer him on PAGE 11.

  “Wow!” you exclaim, stepping into the weighing room. It’s huge! Much bigger than the booth looked from outside.

  The vast room is dark, except for the glowing silver disk set into the floor. You cross the enormous space and step on it.

  A faint mist rises all around you. A computer-like voice says, “Measured. Guess your weight.”

  Okay. Find out what you weigh, down to the half-ounce. Now, multiply that by 2.19. This is Figure A. Next, measure your height — in centimeters — and divide that by 3.6. This is Figure B. Multiply Figure B by Figure A. Carry the six … add it to — wait, no — divide by two … then multiply it by the number of jumping jacks you can do in ten minutes …

  Hey! This is supposed to be a fun book!

  What’s with the math lesson?

  There is a less technical method you can use: Guess.

  If you guess that you weigh about two and one-half times more on Jupiter than on Earth, turn to PAGE 58.

  If you guess that you weigh about two and one-half times less, turn to PAGE 43.

  Holding the lantern in front of you, you squeeze through the flap. You find yourself in another tent. Piles of hot dogs and mounds of buns lie on the ground. This must be some kind of storeroom for the hot-dog booth, you guess.

  “Yuck,” you mutter. “And Mom thinks I’m messy!”

  You hold your lantern higher, peering into the corners of the tent.

  No Charlie. And no prizes.

  As you pass a pile of hot dogs, you step on one. “Yip!” it cries. Then — like a giant caterpillar — it crawls away from you!

  Turn to PAGE 101.

  “I can’t believe I missed!” you yell in disgust.

  You thought you’d lined up the points perfectly. But with one eye closed, you couldn’t tell what’s near and what’s far. The dagger points did not meet.

  “I’m so sorry.” But the young woman doesn’t look sorry. In fact, she seems a lot less friendly now. Her rotten fangs flash again as she gives you an evil smile. “You’ll have to pay the price of losing. And keep paying — forever!”

  “No way!” You clutch the daggers in your hands. “My friends and I are definitely leaving this carnival!”

  You whirl around, and the crowd shrinks back.

  They know you mean business!

  Maybe this is what you should have done from the beginning — fought Big Al and his carnival creeps.

  March right on to PAGE 36.

  Jump out of a moving train into unknown, pitch-black water?

  No way!

  You may be desperate, but you’re not stupid!

  The train chugs even more slowly over the bridge. And your watch seems to spin faster! Minutes pass like seconds, hours like minutes.

  This train’s name turns out to be horribly on target. The Right Away Railroad is taking your precious time right away!

  And you’re helpless! All you can do is sit and shiver.

  At last! You see a shoreline up ahead.

  “There’s dry land!” you yell. “And there are some other rides! Let’s jump out! On your mark, get set …”

  GO! To PAGE 120.

  “Hey!” you call. “Yeah, you,” you add as the kid tries to slink deeper into the shadows. You, Patty, and Floyd dash over to him.

  “You’re going to get me in trouble,” the kid whines.

  “We want to see Big Al,” you say. “I’m tired of playing against the clock. We want to go straight to the grand finale!”

  The boy looks shocked — and a little scared. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he squeaks. “Big Al always cheats, you know.”

  “I’d rather go up against the main guy himself,” you declare. “It beats getting zapped in one of these crazy little games.”

  Even you are surprised by how confident you sound.

  Because inside you’re shaking harder than a bowl of jelly on a bicycle.

  Jiggle over to PAGE 38.

  You decide to trust Ernie. You stroll over to the Hand-Eye Challenge.

  Big Al lets out a sinister laugh and disappears in a puff of brown smoke.

  “This looks like a good game,” you declare. You have good coordination. Maybe the game will be something like juggling.

  “I don’t know,” Floyd says doubtfully. “I never do well at that kind of stuff.”

  “That’s why we’re not asking you to play,” Patty tells him, snickering.

  A pretty young woman sits behind the counter of the booth. A green silk eye patch covers her right eye. She seems almost normal. Friendly, even.

  Then the young woman smiles at you — revealing big yellowish-brown fangs.

  You jump back, startled.

  As long as you’re jumping, leap to PAGE 26.

  You watch Ernie stomp off. He approaches clusters of carnival people on the midway. Every time he stops and talks, they all stare at you.

  You wonder what he’s telling them. “Maybe we should get out of here,” you suggest.

  “Yeah,” Floyd agrees. “They look kind of mad at us.”

  Trying to act casual, you, Patty, and Floyd stroll down the midway. A low rumble comes from the crowd behind you. Then somebody yells, “Get them! We’ll bring them to Big Al!”

  You and your friends pick up speed. The carnival people surge after you.

  “Run!” Patty shouts.

  “Which way?” Floyd cries.

  You glance around frantically. “There are some big games up ahead,” you pant. “We’ll find a place to hide over there.”

  “What if these guys catch us first? I say we try to lose them behind the game booths,” Patty argues. She points over at the row of booths with the claw game and the ringtoss.

  You look back. The mob is gaining on you!

  What do you do?

  If you run full speed ahead, turn to PAGE 62.

  If you dash behind the booths, turn to PAGE 123.

  The old woman winks at you. “Well, hop aboard.”

  Shuddering a little, you step onto the carpet of slugs. They feel sort of icky under your feet. Once you have both feet firmly planted, you start to glide along.

  Wild!

  “Come on, guys,” you call
to Patty and Floyd. “This is weird, but it’s kind of cool!”

  They join you on the trip down the tunnel. It feels almost like surfing — except for the odd squirming sensation under your feet.

  When you reach the halfway point, Floyd starts sniffing the air. “What’s that funny smell? It’s like burning rubber.”

  You smell it too. Then you notice smoke coming from your cousin’s feet.

  “Is there something wrong with your sneakers?” you ask.

  “If there is, we all have the same problem.” Floyd points to you and Patty.

  You gasp.

  Smoke is rising from all your shoes!

  Uh-oh! Get to the bottom of this on PAGE 88.

  “I will now point to the symbol you landed on,” the blindfolded woman declares. She removes her hood.

  You gasp. She has three eyes.

  She reaches out her long, thin hand and taps a symbol:

  “How did you know?” the Civil War soldier demands.

  “I know all,” the woman answers. “Including the fact that you lose!”

  Before the soldier can reply — he explodes!

  The smoke clears. The soldier has vanished.

  And the woman is now staring straight at you.

  With all three eyes.

  “Would you like to play the game?” she asks. “Do you feel lucky?”

  You glance at Patty and Floyd. They both shrug.

  Time is running out. Decide!

  If you want to play Q Quest, turn to PAGE 23.

  If you decide to forget the games and head for the rides, turn to PAGE 122.

  You stop walking and snap your fingers. “Hey, I’ve won three games!” you declare. “Isn’t it time for the final challenge?”

  “Yeah!” Patty exclaims. “Where’s Big Al?”

  “Did somebody call my name?” a deep voice rumbles.

  You jump and spin around. Big Al is right behind you! How does he do that?

  The carnival manager isn’t wearing his checkered jacket. His black mustache is rolled up in two enormous curlers.

  “Who wants me? I was about to take a nap,” he growls.

  Squaring your shoulders, you step up to him. “You said if I won three games I could take the final challenge,” you state. “Well, I won three games.”

  Big Al glares at you. Then his frown changes to a nasty smile. “Did I say three games?” he purrs. “I meant four.”

  “No fair!” Floyd yells. “You can’t change the rules!”

  Big Al throws back his head and laughs. “Kid, you’re a riot. Don’t you know I can do anything I want?”

  He points to a booth with a crowd around it. A neon sign over the front flashes LUCKY DAY! LUCKY DAY!

  “If you want to take the final challenge,” he declares, “you’ll have to try your luck first.”

  Step up to the booth on PAGE 102.

  BEWARE!!

  DO NOT READ THIS

  BOOK FROM

  BEGINNING TO END!

  When a genie named Jenna pops out of a soda can and offers you three wishes, you think all your dreams have come true. But Jenna has a few tricks up her sleeve. If you don’t watch out, the wishes of your dreams could turn into a nightmare!

  Should you wish to to be rich? Famous? The best-looking kid around? Or — something else entirely? It’s up to you. But when you decide — be careful. Jenna’s wishes have a way of going wrong. You could find yourself battling an evil ninja rat-man. Or trapped on a desert island. Or chased by a tiger!

  Oh, and one more thing. If you don’t say your wish exactly the right way … Jenna will see you to your doom!

  You’re in control of this scary adventure. You decide what will happen. And how terrifying the scares will be!

  Start on PAGE 1. Then follow the instructions at the bottom of each page. You make the choices.

  SO TAKE A DEEP BREATH, CROSS YOUR FINGERS, AND TURN TO PAGE 1 TO GIVE YOURSELF GOOSEBUMPS!

  “Anybody home?” you call, charging into your house after school one day. The door bangs shut behind you.

  Silence. Total silence.

  “Hello? Mom? Dad? Anybody?”

  No answer.

  Weird, you think. You drop your schoolbooks on the living-room table and hurry toward the kitchen.

  Why is there no one around? Not even your brother or sister. You’ve never come home and found the place empty.

  Your footsteps creak on the floor as you head for the kitchen door.

  “Mom?” you call again. Nothing.

  You feel a little creepy all alone in the house. Then you think of something that makes you grin.

  No one’s here — you can do anything you want!

  Time to raid the refrigerator!

  You zoom into the kitchen and yank open the fridge door.

  Yes! It’s packed. There’s some leftover pizza, a whole container of nacho cheese sauce, chocolate cake, a big bottle of fruit punch, two six-packs of cola, and fried chicken legs.

  You’re reaching for some cake when something catches your eye.

  Hey — did one of those cola cans move?

  Go on to PAGE 2.

  You stare at the cola can. Nothing happens.

  It’s only a can of soda, you tell yourself. The silence must be getting to you.

  You grab the cola from the six-pack, along with some chips and a slab of chocolate cake. Why not? You don’t usually have a chance to pig out like this!

  Then you head for the family room. You flop down on the couch in front of the TV. No battle over the remote today!

  Where is everybody, anyway? you wonder again.

  You flip up the tab on the cola can to open it. Instantly, you hear the fizzy gas escaping.

  PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

  Whoa! The fizzing won’t stop! You shove the can away from you, holding it out away from your body. The can must have been shaken up.

  A fine wet spray shoots out all over you. Then a cloud of misty white gas begins escaping from the can. Your eyes widen as the cloud grows bigger and bigger. It fills the room like a giant mushroom cloud.

  Your mouth drops open in awe.

  Something else is coming out of the can!

  Something alive!

  Go on to PAGE 3.

  With a loud hissing sound, a ghostly, life-sized young woman squeezes out of the cola can and floats in front of you.

  “Ouch!” she exclaims. She shakes herself off like a wet dog. The mist scatters around her. “That hurt!”

  For another second, she hovers above the coffee table. Her form is thin and airy, like a hologram.

  Then she suddenly becomes solid. She drops to the ground and lands on her two feet with a thud.

  “Hi!” she greets you. “What’s up?”

  You don’t answer her. You can’t. You’re too shocked to make your mouth move.

  Instead, you stare at the amazing person standing in your family room. She’s got spiky red-and-purple hair and five earrings. She’s wearing a fuzzy, short black sweater and baggy blue jeans with black combat boots.

  “Hey! I’m talking to you!” she yells.

  Go on to PAGE 4.

  “Uh, hi,” you answer. You’re too surprised to say much else.

  She’s cool, you think, watching her strut around as if she owns the place. Definitely cool.

  “Nice place — sort of!” she exclaims with a snorty kind of laugh. She flops down in a big stuffed chair across from you, stretches her legs out, and lets her combat boots fall on the coffee table with a clunk. She flashes you a big smile.

  “Okay, let’s cut to the chase,” she rattles off. “My name’s Jenna. I’m a genie — and you’ve got three wishes. Boom. Boom. Boom. Whatever you want. Three things. Fame, fortune, a giant bag of diamond rings — you name it. Except I don’t do windows. And I don’t do guns, knives, or death. If you want to off someone, get another genie. Got that?”

  “Uh, yeah,” you mutter, finding your voice.

  “So what’s it going to be? Make you
r first wish,” she insists.

  Go on to PAGE 5.

  Before you can ask one of the zillion questions swimming around in your brain, Jenna snaps her fingers.

  “Oops! Wait,” she cries. “There’s something I forgot to tell you. The most important part. When you want to make another wish, you’ve got to open the cola can again. Then WHOOSH! I’ll pop out and say ‘What’s up?’ and we can boogie from there. Got it?”

  “No!” You shake your head hard. “I don’t get any of this. How did you get into that can in the first place? And how can I open it again if it’s already open? And how can you come out again? You’re already out.”

  “It’s a genie thing,” Jenna explains with a toss of her head. “Believe me — I’ll be in there. Take my word for it.”

  You’re too astonished to argue with her. Is this for real?

  “Okay, hurry up,” Jenna says. “Make a wish. I don’t have all day.”

  If you wish to be a big celebrity, turn to PAGE 73.

  If you wish to be the richest kid in the world, turn to PAGE 45.

  If you wish to be the best-looking kid in the world, turn to PAGE 39.

  If you wish for something else besides money, fame, or good looks, turn to PAGE 66.

  R.L. Stine’s books are read all over the world. So far, his books have sold more than 300 million copies, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. Besides Goosebumps, R.L. Stine has written the teen series Fear Street and the funny series Rotten School, as well as the Mostly Ghostly series, The Nightmare Room series, and the two-book thriller Dangerous Girls. R.L. Stine lives in New York with his wife, Jane, and Minnie, his King Charles spaniel. You can learn more about him at www.RLStine.com.