by Bill Doyle
Even at a fraction of the power, the punt rocketed through the air. But way to the right. It shot over the stands and into the parking lot. For a moment, the crowd was stunned.
“Wow, that’s some foot on that bigfoot!” Hairy yelled. Karl could tell he wasn’t trying to be mean, but it was the worst thing he could say. The spectators started laughing and Beck hung his head.
“That’s okay, Beck,” Happy said. When Beck flinched, waiting for a cruel punch line, Happy added, “Abso-tootly okay.”
The Frankensteins took the ball at the Scream Team’s 20. Leo stepped back to make a short pass. Before he could throw the ball, Happy called out, “Look over there! It’s angry villagers with pitchforks!”
Distracted, Leo threw the ball too low and Bolt intercepted it. The Scream Team had possession!
“We don’t fight dirty, Happy,” Karl said, shaking his head.
“Okay, okay,” Happy said. “Just think of all the ways I messed us up in the first half. That just evened things out a little.”
The clock continued to tick down, but the Scream Team couldn’t seem to move the ball down the field. At the end of each play, Patsy kept exploding like a party favor. No matter how the play went and even if no one was near her, pieces of her body flew here and there.
“Keep it together, Patsy,” Karl told her when they were in the huddle. “It’s fourth and 20. We all need to keep our heads.”
“Maybe not,” Happy said. “This could actually be the perfect time to lose a head or two.”
Karl thought for a second. “Good point, Happy,” he said, and then called the play. “Zombie Sneak on two.”
The Scream Team lined up, and Karl shouted, “Hut one! Hut two!”
Patsy performed the snap, and something flew past Karl and rolled onto the field.
“The snap has gone bad!” Hairy Hairwell shouted. “The ball is loose! Fumble!”
The Frankensteins fell on the ball like a mob of anvils. Each monster grabbed for it. Finally, Ali the Frankenstein pulled free and held up a round object.
“Looks like the Frankensteins have recovered the ball!” Hairy announced. “Hold on . . . is that ball smiling?”
It was. Because it wasn’t the football.
Ali realized it at the same time. “Not ball!” she yelled. “Not ball!”
She was holding Patsy’s head. “Hello, Ali,” Patsy said with a grin. “How you doing today?”
Meanwhile Patsy’s body was running down the field. She had replaced her head with the football. As she stepped into the end zone and the play ended, Patsy exploded into pieces.
“Touchdown!” Hairy yelled. “The Scream Team has scored a touchdown!”
The crowd didn’t seem to know how to react. They were used to laughing at the Scream Team, not cheering.
“I don’t get the joke,” a squid creature said.
Back in the huddle, Karl gave Patsy a high five . . . and then her head back. She screwed it back on but seemed a little dizzy. “Whoa, I’m seeing triple!” she said. “Maybe Happy should go back to being center, at least for the next play.”
Karl wasn’t sure. With only seconds on the clock, the next play could be their last play. The Scream Team had six points on the board but needed the two-point conversion to tie things up.
“Let me do this for the Scream Team, Karl,” Happy said. “I won’t turn it into a joke.”
Finally, Karl nodded. Everyone deserved a second chance.
The Frankensteins relaxed when they saw Happy back at center. They seemed to think he was back to his usual self and this was part of one of his pranks. Karl hoped they weren’t right.
Only one way to find out, he thought.
Karl called, “Hut one! Hut two!” and this time, Happy snapped the ball perfectly. It wedged right between Karl’s paws with a satisfying smack! Karl took advantage of the Frankensteins’ surprise to run the ball across the line and score two points.
“I can’t believe it!” Hairy shouted. “Never in the history of football has anyone seen a game like this. It’s all tied up. Fiends and ghouls, we’re going into overtime!”
“We’re in sudden death!” Hairy shouted.
“It’s not so sudden for me,” Patsy said. “I’ve been undead for years.”
“The first team to score will win the Wolfenstein Muck Bowl,” Hairy continued. “And have the bragging rights for the next year!”
To decide who would kick and receive, George called Karl and Leo out to the 50-yard line for another coin toss. This time Karl won, and he instantly said, “The Scream Team will receive.”
Karl knew that the minute they gave up possession of the football, they would lose. The Scream Team had been lucky so far, but once the Frankensteins had the ball, they’d just stomp all the way down the field.
The Frankenstein kick landed straight in J.D.’s hands. He made it five yards to the Scream Team’s 45 before being tackled by an avalanche of Frankensteins.
Karl was determined to lead his team. He took the snap and then stepped away to make a pass. It wobbled toward Eric. A Frankenstein swatted the pass out of the air . . . and then Karl’s next pass, too. The Frankensteins’ defense would not let up. One more broken play and it was fourth and 15. Karl used their one and only sudden-death time-out.
The team gathered on the sidelines next to the Coaches Conundrum.
“Well, that was fun while it lasted,” Mike said with a disappointed shrug.
“It’s not over yet,” Karl said. “We’re going for the field goal. We could score first and win the game.”
“No way!” J.D. said. “That’d be an 85-yard kick, something no one in the JCML has ever done. And we don’t even have a kicker!”
“Yes,” Wyatt said, and Virgil added, “We do.”
“Where?” Dennis asked, as if worried the coaches meant him.
“It’s you, Beck,” the Coaches Conundrum answered at the same time.
Beck shook his head. “The whole crowd will just laugh at me.”
Karl started to say something, but Happy stepped forward first. “No,” he said. “They’ll be laughing at me.”
In a flash, Happy darted closer to the stands. He slipped off his shoes, put them on his ears, and started trying to walk through the muck on his face. The spectators started giggling immediately.
“Who’s Happy making fun of now?” Beck groaned.
“Himself,” Karl answered. It was true. For once, Happy was the punch line of one of his own jokes.
Beck watched the crowd point and laugh at Happy. Finally, he called, “Hey, Happy! You can knock it off!”
Happy flipped upright and hurried back to the bench. “See, Beck?” he said. “I didn’t melt from them laughing at me. Who cares what other monsters think?”
“I do,” Beck said.
“Wait—” Happy started to say.
“No, it’s okay,” Beck said. “I want the crowd to look at my feet. I want other monsters to see what I can do with them.”
And then, for the first time in weeks, he smiled. “I want to kick the ball.”
The Scream Team cheered.
“Monstrous!” Coach Virgil shouted. “Now get back out there!”
The Frankensteins were already on the field, making grumbling sounds like they couldn’t wait to start tackling smaller monsters again. Karl and his teammates rushed into formation. Karl would take the snap on three from Happy and hold the ball for Beck.
“Hee hoo hee.” Happy laughed. Karl shot him a look, and Happy slapped his tentacles over his mouth. “Sorry! I laugh when I get nervous, or when someone is trying for an 85-yard field goal.”
Karl gave Beck one more smile. “You can do it, Beck.” Then he got ready to call for the snap.
“The Scream Team is going for a record today . . . the longest field goal in JCML history,” Hairy Hairwell announced as he described the action. “Here’s the snap. And Beck the bigfoot comes in for the kick. It’s over the Frankensteins’ arms. The kick is high and it’s go
ing long. Fiends and ghouls, this ball is soaring . . . it’s on target for the goalposts. . . .”
Hairy had to take a breath, before yelling, “The kick is . . . good! It’s GOOD! The Scream Team hits it in sudden death. The game is over! The game IS over! The Scream Team wins the game!”
The Scream Team went berserk. “You did it, Beck!” Karl shouted.
But Beck wasn’t listening. He was too busy kicking anything that wasn’t nailed down. His helmet. Patsy’s elbow. The cooler that was empty after the team dumped the hot slime on the Coaches Conundrum.
Beck had rediscovered something amazing. His own talent. He kept kicking . . . and kicking! Objects soared through the air like confetti at a ticker-tape parade.
“Monstrous job, Scream Team!” Coach Virgil cheered.
“All right,” Coach Wyatt said. “Let’s tell the Frankensteins how well they played today.”
They went through the handshake line with the Frankensteins. Leo accidentally gave Karl a high five that nearly knocked his paw off, but said, “Game good.”
And then, like they always did after a good game, the Scream Team jumped into a huge team pileup. The Coaches Conundrum hopped in and so did Mr. Benedict. They were all laughing.
Except one monster.
Karl saw that Happy wasn’t smiling or grinning or giggling or chuckling or laughing. Standing off on his own, he just looked kind of sad.
Karl trotted over to him. “You did good out there.”
“Yeah,” Happy said. “Doesn’t feel like the crowd thought that.”
When Beck had scored the field goal, the crowd hadn’t really cheered. They had come to see Happy make fun of people, and seemed disappointed when it turned out to be just a regular football game.
“Welcome to the Scream Team!” Karl said. “They’ll know how good we are someday and we’ll get the respect we deserve.” Karl had a thought. He grabbed his empty glass jar from the sidelines.
“What are you doing with that?” Happy asked.
Karl scraped the word BURP off the jar. He opened it, waved it around in the air, and then sealed it back up.
“Is that for your collection?” Happy said, then looked ashamed. “The one I destroyed?”
“No, it’s for you,” Karl said. “It’s called the smell of victory and teamwork.”
“Thanks,” Happy said quietly, putting the jar in his pocket. He shook his head. “Because of those two games I made the Scream Team lose, it will never make it to the championship game. Not that I’ll be playing in more games, anyway. I guess you’ll boot me off the team now and find someone else for my spot.”
Happy started shuffling away as Patsy and J.D. came over to stand next to Karl. “Is there a gnome-it-all on my shoulder?” Karl asked them.
“Why?” J.D. asked.
“Because I’m about to do something that might be kind of a bad idea,” Karl said, and then he shouted, “Hey, Happy! You want to stay on the team?”
Happy stopped but didn’t turn around. “Not without the magic word.” Then he turned to face them. “Sorry is the magic word, and I have to say it.” He took a breath. “I’m really sorry for everything I did.”
Karl could tell Happy meant it.
“So are you going to stay?” Patsy asked.
“Maybe just until the end of football season.” Happy looked at her. “Would that make all of you happy?”
“I hope not!” Karl said, grinning. “Can you imagine a team of Happys?”
“See?” Happy laughed. “You really are a funny cat when you want to be!”
e-ISBN 978-0-545-51044-8
Text copyright © 2012 by Bill Doyle
Illustrations copyright © 2012 by Jared D. Lee Studio, Inc.
All rights reserved. SCHOLASTIC and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
First Scholastic printing, October 2012
Cover art by Jared Lee
Cover design by Jennifer Rinaldi Windau
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