by R. L. Stine
“Evan, look what I found!” Her dark eyes lit up. An evil grin spread across her face.
“Monster Blood!” Evan cried. “Where’d you get that?”
“Somewhere,” Andy teased. She raised her hand to the lid and started to twist it off.
“No—!” Evan shrieked. He dove toward her, grabbing for the can. “Don’t open it! Andy—don’t!”
5
Andy pulled the can from Evan’s reach.
And twisted it open.
“NOOOO!” Evan shrieked.
She tilted the can so that he could see inside.
Empty.
She laughed and tossed the can aside. “April Fools’!”
“But it isn’t April!” Kermit declared.
Evan gulped—and felt something pinch his ear. The tarantula! The Monster Blood can had frightened him so much, he’d forgotten about the creatures crawling over his body.
“Uh-oh. Now you’ve excited them!” Kermit warned. “I think we’re going to learn how painful a tarantula bite can be.”
Evan froze. He signaled frantically with his eyes for Andy to help him.
“Okay, okay,” she said finally. She stepped up to Evan and plucked the tarantula off his head.
“You’re ruining the experiment!” Kermit protested.
Andy pulled the other tarantula off Evan’s arm. She handed them to Kermit.
Grumbling to himself, Kermit dropped them into the glass jar. Then he scribbled some notes in a notebook.
Evan glared angrily at his cousin, clenching his hands into tight fists. The tarantulas were gone, but his skin still prickled. “Let’s get the Super-Soakers,” he growled.
He couldn’t wait to drench Kermit. He wanted to soak the little freak, to make him sputter and choke and shiver and shake until he begged for mercy.
And then Evan would really let him have it!
“It’s kind of cold out for a water fight,” Kermit said.
“I don’t care,” Evan growled. “Let’s go.”
He turned to Andy. She swung her backpack away and zipped it before he could see what was inside.
“What else have you got in there?” Evan demanded. “More dumb jokes?”
She sneered. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“Do you have more Monster Blood in there?” His voice cracked. “Do you have real Monster Blood?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she repeated, hugging the backpack to her side.
Maybe I’ll soak her too, Evan thought. She’s asking for it. “Come on outside,” he told her. “You can just watch.”
“Like I believe you,” she replied, rolling her eyes again. “I’ll wait in here and do my homework. No way am I getting wet.”
Evan eyed the backpack intently. Did she have a real can of Monster Blood in there? Did she?
Please—let the answer be no! he prayed as he led Kermit to the backyard.
They filled their squirt-gun canisters from the garden hose behind the garage. And the chase was on.
Kermit ran. Evan fired first. The Super-Soaker sprayed a stream of water over Kermit’s head.
Evan lowered the squirt gun, and the water stream bounced off the back of Kermit’s down jacket.
Evan pumped hard and kept the water flowing, squeezing the trigger again. Again. He raised the spray and caught Kermit in the back of the neck.
Kermit let out a yipe as the cold water ran down his back.
He spun around. And shot a stream of water in Evan’s direction.
Evan dropped to his knees on the grass. The water stream flew over him.
He pulled the trigger and sent water splashing down the front of Kermit’s jacket.
“Yo! Hey—!” A booming voice made Evan spin around.
“Conan—!” Evan cried.
Kermit sent a spray of icy water into the back of Evan’s head.
Evan jumped up and staggered forward. “Kermit—stop!” He caught his balance before he bumped into Conan.
“You trying to get my new sneakers wet?” Conan snarled.
“No. No way,” Evan replied. He lowered his Super-Soaker to his side.
Kermit stepped up beside Evan. “Give us a break, Conan,” Kermit said. “Evan isn’t afraid of you!”
“Oh, yeah?” Conan replied menacingly.
“Evan says he can take you down any day,” Kermit boasted.
“I did not say that!” Evan cried. “Kermit—what is your problem?”
He turned to Conan. “I didn’t say that. Really. My cousin is a little mixed up. You know. From the fumes. All those chemicals he fools around with.”
Conan shook his beefy head. “You guys are really asking for it,” he muttered angrily. He took a step toward Evan.
Evan gulped. He felt his Super-Soaker move.
He turned—and saw that Kermit had reached behind him.
Kermit was pushing up Evan’s squirt gun.
Before Evan could jerk it away, Kermit pulled the trigger.
And a stream of water poured out over Conan’s new sneakers.
6
Conan let out an angry cry. And grabbed the front of Evan’s coat.
“I—I didn’t do it!” Evan sputtered.
“It came out of your squirt gun,” Conan replied. His big hands tightened on the coat. He tugged, lifting Evan off the ground.
“What are you going to do?” Evan shrieked.
“Hey—what’s up?” Andy came trotting out from the house.
Conan let Evan drop to the ground.
Evan stumbled but quickly caught his balance.
“Evan is teaching Conan a lesson,” Kermit reported.
Evan gave his cousin a hard shove. “I’m warning you, Kermit….”
Conan eyed Andy suspiciously. “What’s in your hand?” he demanded.
Evan turned as Andy held up her hand. She gripped a small blue plastic can.
“No—!” Evan gasped. “Andy—is that the empty one?”
She shook her head, an evil grin on her face. “Not empty. This one is full.”
Evan took a step back. “Get rid of it, Andy.”
Kermit reached for the can. “It’s the real stuff? Let me see it,” he demanded eagerly.
“Are you crazy?” Evan cried. “Why did you bring that here, Andy? You know how dangerous it is.”
Andy’s brown eyes flashed excitedly. She didn’t say a word. Instead, she raised the blue can and started to pull off the lid.
“Nooo!” Evan wailed. “Have you totally lost it?”
Andy grinned at him.
“Don’t open it!” Evan pleaded. “Please—don’t open it!”
With a grunt, Conan stepped forward and swiped the can from Andy. “Let me see this stuff,” he growled.
He raised the can in front of his face—and pulled off the lid.
7
Conan pulled open the lid—and three cloth snakes sprung out and hit him in the face.
He let out a startled yelp and let the can fall from his hand.
Andy tossed back her head and roared with laughter. Kermit laughed too, a high, shrill whinny.
Evan swallowed hard. Too shaken to laugh.
No one ever played jokes on Conan. No one.
Evan stared hard at Conan, frozen in terror. Conan’s face was bright red. He was actually blushing!
Now he’s going to pound us, Evan thought. When Conan is finished with us, we’re going to look just like those three fake snakes on the ground.
But to Evan’s surprise, Conan spun around and stomped off without saying a word.
“That was a close one,” Evan murmured.
“It was funny!” Andy exclaimed. “What’s your problem? Lose your sense of humor?”
“Yes,” Evan told her. “I don’t think Monster Blood is funny. It turned my dog, Trigger, into a giant. It turned our classroom hamster into a roaring monster. And it turned me into a twelve-foot-tall freak! That was the worst day of my life!”
�
��I saved you—remember? I shrank you back to your real size,” Kermit bragged.
“Yes, you did,” Evan had to admit. “That was the last good thing you ever did.”
Kermit pouted. “That’s not a nice thing to say, Evan. I shared my tarantulas with you—didn’t I?”
Evan groaned in reply.
Kermit’s expression suddenly changed. Behind his glasses, his eyes flashed. “Wait right here,” he told them. He took off, running to his house.
“Where are you going now?” Evan called after him.
“I almost forgot what I wanted to show you,” Kermit called back. “It’s the coolest thing!”
He disappeared into the house.
Evan turned to Andy. “How am I going to survive ten days with him?” he wailed. “I just got here. And I’ve already had tarantulas climbing on my head!”
Andy laughed. “It could have been worse.”
“How could it be worse?”
“Well… it could have been head lice,” she said. “Remember when Kermit was collecting head lice?”
“You’re not cheering me up, Annnnndrea,” Evan groaned.
“Don’t call me Andrea,” she grumbled. “Wow. You’re in a bad mood. Just think of all the money you are earning. Your aunt is paying you five dollars an hour to keep an eye on him—right?”
“If I survive,” Evan moaned.
He turned to the house. Kermit came running across the grass, carrying a glass case between his hands.
“Now what is he bringing?” Evan cried.
“Maybe this is the head lice,” Andy said.
“Will you please stop talking about head lice?” Evan pleaded. “You’re making my head itch!”
“Check this out!” Kermit cried, holding the glass case up to them.
Evan squinted into the case. He saw white mice inside. Six or eight of them. With tiny black eyes and twitching pink noses. Crawling all over each other.
“Kermit—why did you bring your white mice outside?” he demanded.
“Watch,” Kermit replied.
He pulled off the lid and dumped all the mice onto the grass.
The mice didn’t hesitate. They scampered off in all directions. One of them ran right between Andy’s legs. She cried out in surprise and leaped out of the way.
“Are you crazy?” Evan shrieked. “Your mice are all getting away!”
“No, they’re not,” Kermit replied calmly. He pulled a small gray control unit from the back pocket of his baggy jeans. It looked a lot like a TV remote control.
“This is so cool!” Kermit exclaimed. “See? I built an electric fence all the way around the backyard.”
“I don’t see any fence,” Andy said.
“Of course not. It’s electric,” Kermit told her. “It’s like the invisible fences people use to keep their dogs in the yard.”
Evan squinted to the back of the yard. “I can’t even see your mice anymore,” he told Kermit. “They’ve all run away.”
“No way,” Kermit insisted. He raised the slender control unit. “I have electric current going all around the yard. If a mouse tries to go through it, he gets a mild shock.”
“But they’re gone!” Andy laughed. “The mice are all gone!”
Kermit gazed around the backyard.
His mouth dropped open. He slapped his forehead. “Oh, wow! I forgot to turn the fence on! I forgot to throw the switch!”
He raised the control unit and pushed a red button.
“YAAAIIIIII!” Evan let out a scream as a jolt of electricity shot through his body.
8
Evan’s arms waved wildly. His legs wiggled and bent.
Kermit pushed the red button again. The buzzing stopped.
Kermit stared at Evan. “Sorry. Guess you shouldn’t be standing there.”
Evan took a deep breath and held it. He waited for his skin to stop tingling.
“You looked like you were dancing!” Andy exclaimed. She threw her arms up and wiggled her body, imitating Evan.
“Am I supposed to think that’s funny?” Evan asked weakly.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “Your hair is standing straight up on end!”
Evan pushed his hair down with both hands. But it popped right back up.
He glared at Kermit. “Any other great inventions?”
“Not right now,” Kermit replied. “You have to help me.”
“Help you do what?” Evan growled.
“Round up my mice,” Kermit said. He began crawling across the grass on his hands and knees. “Hurry! They are expensive lab mice. Mom will kill me if I lose them.”
Evan and Andy saw they had no choice. They dropped to their hands and knees and began crawling like Kermit.
“I don’t see any mice,” Evan whispered to Andy. “I think Kermit is in major trouble.”
He heard a heavy thumping sound behind him. He turned and saw Dogface, the big sheepdog, bouncing across the yard.
“No, Dogface!” Kermit cried. “No! Go home! Go home!”
Furiously wagging his stubby tail, the big dog leaped onto Evan, sending him sprawling on the grass.
“Dogface—you’re scaring the mice away!” Kermit wailed.
Ignoring Kermit’s desperate pleas, the dog made a wide circle, excitedly running round and round the yard, barking and wagging his tail.
“Hey—what’s going on?” an angry voice called. “Can’t you keep that dog quiet?”
Conan came leaping over the low bushes that separated the two yards. Then he ran about three steps—and stopped.
Evan heard a crackling sound. Then a loud BUZZ.
Conan’s eyes bulged. His hands shot up. His body twisted in a wild dance.
“Oh, wow,” Kermit murmured. “Didn’t I shut that off?”
He fumbled with the control unit. The buzzing stopped.
Conan took a few seconds to catch his breath.
Then he let out a furious roar. And dove at Evan.
“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” Evan stammered.
9
Evan leaned his elbows on the dinner table and stared down at the pile of spaghetti on his plate. Aunt Dee couldn’t mess up spaghetti—could she? he wondered.
“Evan—what happened to your ear?” Aunt Dee asked.
Evan sighed. His left ear was normal. But his right ear throbbed and burned. He knew it must look like a red cabbage!
“What on earth happened to you?” his aunt demanded.
Evan didn’t want to describe how Conan had won a tug-of-war with his ear. He mumbled something into his plate.
“Evan got into another fight with Conan,” Kermit told his mom.
She lowered her fork. “Evan—is that true?”
Evan nodded. “It wasn’t exactly a fight.”
“I warned you to stay away from that boy,” his aunt scolded. “You really should be smart enough not to pick a fight with someone so big.”
“And Evan lost all my white mice too,” Kermit whined.
His mother’s mouth dropped open. “Those mice cost a lot of money!” She narrowed her eyes at Evan.
Evan swallowed hard. “I’m not the one who brought them outside,” he choked out.
“I left you in charge,” Kermit’s mom said sternly. “You are responsible for what goes on here when I’m away.” She scowled and waved her fork at him. “If it’s too big a job for you, Evan, I can find a grownup to come stay with Kermit.”
“No!” Evan cried.
Being responsible for Kermit was impossible. But he didn’t want to lose the job. If he didn’t earn money, he couldn’t go to sleepaway camp.
“I can handle the job,” he told his aunt.
Across from him, Kermit gobbled down mouthful after mouthful of spaghetti. The orange sauce ran down his chin.
Evan rolled several spaghetti strands on his fork, then took a big bite.
He chewed for about three seconds. Then he let out a scream. “YAAAAAAIIIII!”
His mouth was on fire! His h
ead felt about to explode!
“Is it spicy enough?” Aunt Dee asked. “Did I put in enough hot sauce?”
Later, as Evan changed into his pajamas, Kermit typed away on his computer. Evan’s lips were swollen from the spicy spaghetti. They looked like two big salamis hanging from his face.
He gazed at himself in the dresser mirror. His ear resembled a red cabbage.
He shook his head unhappily, thinking about Conan. “I have to do something about him,” he mumbled.
Kermit spun around from his keyboard. “What did you say?”
“Conan went too far this time,” Evan grumbled bitterly. “He’s making me look like a freak.”
“Yes, you do,” Kermit agreed.
“Shut up. I didn’t ask you,” Evan snapped. “You’re not exactly Brad Pitt!”
“Who’s that?” Kermit asked.
Evan ignored him. He climbed into bed. He hit the pillow a few times, fluffing it up. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep.
He was too angry.
“This time Conan went too far,” he repeated, muttering to himself. “This time I have to find a way to pay him back.”
Behind his red-framed glasses, Kermit’s round black eyes lit up. “You mean revenge?” he asked excitedly.
“Yeah. I guess,” Evan replied, settling his huge ear on the pillow. His hands were clenched into tight fists. His whole body felt tense.
“Revenge.” He repeated the word a few times. “That’s what I want. Someone has to show Conan that he cannot keep pushing everyone around and beating everyone up. Revenge…”
Kermit shut off his computer. When he turned back to Evan, he had a wide grin on his face. “I think I can help you,” he said.
10
“Let me show you something,” Kermit said eagerly, lowering his voice to a whisper. He pulled something out of his bottom desk drawer and brought it over to Evan’s foldout bed.
“Look.” Kermit’s grin grew wider. He handed the object to Evan.
“Hey—!” Evan cried out. “It’s so hairy!”
Evan stared at the small object. Some kind of ball, covered in thick, greasy black hair. “This is totally gross,” he told Kermit. “What is this? Why are you showing it to me?”