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Zits from Python Pit #6

Page 9

by M. D. Payne; Illustrated by Keith Zoo


  Grigore smiled a very toothy smile and stared into my eyes. I was frozen.

  “Grigore, stop it!” I yelled. “Just tell me how bad these zits look and then look away.”

  Grigore opened his mouth, and his fangs grew.

  “Chris! Chris!” Ben yelled, and ran into the room. Grigore dropped his gaze, and I was able to turn around.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  Ben jumped at the sight of my face.

  “Oh, you finally got the zits, huh?” he asked. “We found the phone. It’s in the bed.”

  “In the bed?” I asked. “With the tarantulas?”

  “Yes, and Shane wants to jump in and grab it,” Ben said. “Hurry!”

  The monsters and I rushed into the other room. Shane was on the lip of the bathtub looking down.

  “I just saw it, three or four spiders deep,” said Shane. “This is going to be so awesome.”

  “Are you really sure you want to do that?” I asked.

  “Awww, yeah,” he said, and jumped in. The spiders stopped moving, and he lay there for a minute, enjoying the back-soothing comfort of the world’s greatest, but most bizarre, mattress.

  “They’ve locked into place,” I said. “How are you going to get it?”

  “Lemme see,” he said, and began to slide his hand into the mass of spiders. They shifted around uncomfortably. “Aaah, that tickles!”

  TEE HEE HEE HEE!

  I looked over at Grigore. He looked back at me and furrowed his brow. “Vhat?” he asked.

  Shane pushed his arm elbow-deep into the spider mattress and concentrated. “I thought it was right here.”

  “Twenty-Three, do you want to help Shane?” I asked.

  “No, no, I got this!” said Shane.

  That’s when the other spiders grabbed his left arm and pulled it in.

  “Wait, wait!” yelled Shane. But the spiders pulled hard, and Shane’s face smooshed up against the pile. “SNOP IT! SNO—”

  And then his head was under the tarantulas.

  Tweeting with Tarantulas

  “Help him, guys!” I shouted.

  The monsters jumped up to the bed as Shane was pulled headfirst into the writhing mass of spiders.

  Grigore and Twenty-Three jumped in first, but were stuck on top. The tarantulas wouldn’t let them in deep enough to help Shane.

  “Claw them all out!” I yelled. Grigore and Twenty-Three knelt down and began to claw furiously at the pile, but only a few tarantulas flew off the side of the tub.

  “Shane!” yelled Ben. “I told you that you shouldn’t have done this!”

  “All right, everyone in!” I said.

  But before anyone else could get on the tarantula bed-tub, Shane rose to the surface, giggling. “Oh man, this tickles, but it’s amazing!” He pulled up one hand, which was clutching a smartphone. He tossed it to me. “Here ya go.”

  Grigore and Twenty-Three jumped off of the bed.

  Shane backstroked through the tarantulas. “Aw, man, I knew it would be perfectly snuggly and warm in here. What I didn’t think was that they’d help me find the phone.”

  “And your zits are gone, too,” said Gordon.

  “Are they really?” asked Shane. “Bonus! One of the tarantulas must have sucked them dry.”

  HWURRRP!

  Ben threw up in his mouth a little. He swallowed hard and said, “Congratulations.”

  I looked down at the phone in my hand. It had a skull and crossbones logo over the word “iGroan.”

  “An iGroan?” asked Ben. “That’s pretty funny. Does it work like an iPhone?”

  My friends and the monsters crowded around me as I turned on the phone.

  “Here’s Twitter,” I said. I clicked on the app.

  “It looks like his handle is @aaaarnnnnggg,” I said.

  “Not very original for a zombie, if you ask me,” Ben said.

  “What’s he tweeting about?” asked Gordon.

  “His last tweet is from a few months ago,” I said. “It was ‘wwwwrrrrggggnnnnn.’”

  “Not so helpful,” Gil said. “Zombies are terrible tweeters.”

  “I bet you if Clive tweeted, he’d be great at it,” Shane said from the bed.

  “Search for ‘@tikoloshefan,’” said Gordon.

  “Found it,” I said. “‘Rangda from Bali is Tikoloshe’s Number One Fan and—’”

  “Just get to her tweets,” said Ben.

  “‘I’m so glad Tikoloshe took over instead of just helping. @bettyfrancois was just terrible,’” I read.

  “Wait,” said Ben. “@bettyfrancois? Betty and François are a couple?”

  “Sorry, it’s @BATTYfrancois,” I said.

  “Oh, that makes sense,” said Ben. “So is François the Director? Why did Tikoloshe need to help? How did he take over?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “All of Rangda’s tweets are about how great Tikoloshe is.” I loaded a picture and pointed at the screen. “Look, here’s a selfie of her and Tikoloshe.”

  “She really is Tikoloshe’s Number One Fan,” said Ben.

  “Man, he’s even uglier than his statue,” said Gordon.

  “Does he have a Twitter account?” asked Ben.

  “It doesn’t look like it, but let me see who Rangda follows,” I said.

  “Jeez, almost everyone is here,” I said. “It looks like Betty and the adzes are the only ones not on here.”

  “Even Kongamato?” Shane asked from the bed. “How does he even tweet with his huge wings?”

  “Yeah, he’s here,” I said. “@realkongamato. Maybe someone does it for him?”

  “What is he tweeting about?” asked Shane.

  “He hasn’t tweeted in a while,” I said. “The last thing on here is that @battyfrancois, to help his residents regain their monster juice, is going to call on Tikoloshe for help and energy.”

  “So François was worried about his residents, called on this guy, and then ended up being taken over,” Ben said. “So, technically, this retirement home is without a Director.”

  “Can’t François just take control?” I asked. “Why am I here? This is someone else’s mess!”

  “Is anyone tweeting about zits?” asked Shane. “Check for the hashtag #zits.”

  “Nobody Rangda is following is tweeting about zits,” I said.

  “Can you Google ‘Tikoloshe’?” asked Ben. “What sort of a monster is he?”

  Everyone quieted down while I did a little bit of research.

  “He’s found mainly in South Africa,” I said. “Some say he’s invisible. All say he can possess people and trick them into doing things.”

  I thought about it for a minute. Each time something strange had happened here, it was as if the monster had been possessed.

  “So that’s who you were talking to in the cave,” I said to the monsters. “He’s trying to get you on his side, too!”

  “Ve vere talking to someone?” Grigore asked.

  “Well, at least I know why you tried to bite me before,” I said.

  “I tried to VHAT?!” asked Grigore, horrified that he might have done something wrong. He covered his mouth.

  “We’ve got to tell Nabila about this,” I said.

  There was a loud chuckle coming from the large cave.

  “Is that Roy?” asked Gordon. “Looks like Tikoloshe got him, too.”

  “If that’s Roy, then who is guarding Nabila?” I asked.

  Director Z rushed down the hallway with Pietro and ran into the room.

  “The monsters are coming down the stairs,” said Pietro.

  “Clear out of their rooms immediately,” added Director Z.

  “Aw, man,” said Shane. “I was just starting to fall asleep.”

  Shane jumped off of the tarantula bed. I tos
sed the phone back onto the impression he made. The tarantulas shifted around, and the phone disappeared again. In its place, a dead snake appeared. The tarantulas worked together to bring it to the edge of the bed and flung it on the cold stone floor.

  It plopped like a nasty green booger.

  Almost like the same booger I had seen hanging out of Shane’s nose before.

  The thought of a snake that big popping out of Shane’s face made my stomach churn. I reached up to my own zits and felt that they were getting bigger. I thought back to the dead zombie that had fallen on Ben. All of those snakes burst from his body . . .

  But there was no time for terrifying thoughts.

  “We’ve got to get to Nabila before Rangda comes in!” I yelled.

  We rushed out of the room.

  Sorry Monsters

  We rushed out of Gilberto’s room and down the hall.

  I pushed Director Z into the cave, where Roy and Clive were staring up at the moon. “Snap them out of whatever trance Tikoloshe has got them in and hurry down to Rangda’s room. We might need them!”

  We ran down the dark dungeon hallway. We almost knocked over Gilberto as he shuffled past us.

  Shane stopped to talk with him. “I hope you don’t mind, I softened up your mattress,” he said. Gilberto just stared at Shane blankly.

  A few doors down, Nabila screamed.

  “Come on!” I huffed at Shane.

  We all rushed into the room. I expected to see Rangda dining on Nabila in her bed.

  Instead, more than a dozen small snakes cornered Nabila in the back of the room. She used a lighter from her fanny pack to push them back, but they weren’t going far.

  “Where’d they come from?” asked Ben.

  “I don’t know!” said Nabila. “They were here when I woke up!”

  “Well, at least your zits look better,” I said.

  “Did you pop all of your zits?” Ben asked.

  Her zits, though smaller, looked like they had just been powerfully popped. A little bit of pus and blood dripped out of one or two of them.

  “I don’t remember doing it,” Nabila said. “How about we discuss the zits later and take care of the snakes now? OW!” She dropped the hot lighter.

  The snakes slithered slowly toward her.

  Pietro, in werewolf form, jumped into the room and began crushing snake heads and flinging dead snakes into the hallway with his powerful jaws.

  When his task was done, he turned into a human.

  “Where did those guys come from?” asked Pietro. “They taste freshly born.”

  “What do you mean?” Nabila asked.

  Again, my stomach turned. Did they come from her face? I thought.

  Before we could discuss the topic further, Rangda angrily entered her room.

  GWAAAARRRRRRRR!

  Rangda leaned down into her unmade bed and sniffed the blood and pus-covered pillow deeply.

  SNIFF SNIFF SNIFF!

  Suddenly she stopped sniffing, turned to Nabila, and pointed an accusing finger.

  “I’m sorry, I was just really tired,” said Nabila.

  Rangda waved her finger back and forth as if to say, “no, no” and jumped over her bed toward Nabila.

  Pietro turned back into a werewolf and blocked Rangda from Nabila.

  Rangda’s long, curved tusks opened wide, and a huge red tongue flopped over Pietro and licked Nabila.

  “Guys, help!” she screeched. “Why did you leave me in here all alone?”

  Pietro jumped up to bite Rangda’s tongue, but before he could, she turned. Her eyes bugged out even farther than before, staring at all of us.

  The monsters were ready to pounce. Twenty-Three and Grigore approached her, and Pietro was still behind her, making sure she didn’t turn around and harm Nabila.

  Rangda lifted her foot and brought it down on the ground. The room quaked. She lifted her hands high. The monsters readied for the attack.

  “Waiiiiiiiit!” I yelled. “Wait, Rangda! Tikoloshe has been lying to you. He’s not really going to help.”

  She put her hands down for a moment and stared at me. She let out a low growl from between her tusks.

  “Hear me out!” I said. “And I know it’s going to be hard for you because you’re his number one fan, but what I’m about to say is true. Tikoloshe is a trickster. He doesn’t really want to help you guys! He’s probably just using you.”

  She shook her head and turned to Nabila again. “Snackie!!!!”

  Pietro jumped up to bite her arm, but she swatted him away.

  She was HUNGRY.

  Pietro hit the floor with an OOOOF and turned back into a human.

  The other monsters were enraged.

  “Everyone, please, wait!” I cried out in desperation. I looked at Director Z.

  “STOP!” Director Z ordered.

  Everyone stopped. Everyone but Rangda. Rangda moved forward.

  “Rangda, please, just listen!” I said. “If I’m wrong, you can eat Nabila.”

  “What?!” yelled Nabila. “You can’t just say that!”

  “What has Tikoloshe done for you? You’re all still old. You just think you’re not old. But look in a mirror. Take a minute and really think about it, and you’ll know that things haven’t gotten any better than before. In fact, things might just be worse.”

  Rangda pulled her tongue back into her mouth and tapped her tusk thoughtfully.

  “That’s right,” I said. “Just think about it.”

  Ben motioned for Nabila to crawl out of the bed and come to us. She slowly, quietly started to move.

  “You were probably fine in Bali, right?” I asked Rangda, trying to keep her attention. “And then you had a sudden urge to come here, and when you got here, you felt young. But Tikoloshe has made all of you just think you’re young. He’s tricked you. Even François is still old, but Tikoloshe has somehow charmed him so his fur looks young.”

  “Maybe you’re the one tricking me,” she said. She turned to see Nabila creeping away and ROARED.

  Grigore, Gil, Clive, and Twenty-Three pounced forward to protect Nabila, but Rangda was going full speed.

  ROOOOOOOOAAAAAR!

  She pushed through all of them and opened her bright red mouth. Her mouth was open so wide that her tusks quivered.

  “WAIT!” someone bellowed from the door. “Listen to me. You must stop!”

  Rangda turned to look at François.

  “Even though I’ve been stripped of my pendant,” he said, “you know you must listen to me.”

  Rangda let out one last growl in anger. She knew she had to obey her Director.

  “Now say you’re sorry,” François said.

  Rangda turned to Nabila and said, “I’m sorry, snackie.”

  “Apology accepted,” Nabila said. She put out her hand to shake Rangda’s hand, but Rangda extended her tongue instead. Nabila shook it. “That’s the last you’ll taste of me,” Nabila said.

  “And now it’s my turn to apologize,” said François. “I’m sorry. I made a huge mistake.”

  Director in Distress

  “Had things really gotten so bad here that you had to call Tikoloshe?” I asked François.

  “When the moon—the First Monster—shook and screamed and was drained of its energies,” said François, “I panicked, I admit. We’re so isolated here that I didn’t have any colleagues to check in with about what was really happening. I thought it was the end.”

  “Yes, I had never heard of this facility before,” said Director Z.

  “We’re a very private community,” said François.

  “Is that why you’re on Twitter?” asked Shane.

  François ignored Shane and continued. “So with nobody to turn to, I panicked and called on the power of the demon imp Tikoloshe, thinking tha
t his dark energy could help us in our time of need. I thought he would replenish our batteries, so to speak. I went to a local witch doctor and he made the statue that you bowed down to. That’s the same statue we used, the witch doctor and I, to call him here.”

  François hung his head in shame.

  “As soon as he got here,” he continued, “he took my pendant and stripped me of my powers. Even as the moon regained its strength, our residents got weaker, but he gave them the illusion of strength.”

  “So that’s why I got called here,” I said. “And now I can’t leave because I have yet to fulfill my duty—to save this place from Tikoloshe and make you the Director again.”

  “He told me to make a shrine using his statue, to make everyone bow down and pledge their allegiance. To keep his statue safe and clean at all times. I’ve bowed down to him like everyone else,” continued François. “I’ve promised to do what he told me, and I’ve believed the lies he told me and the rest of the residents about how he would make us stronger. I lied, too. I lied to my own residents.”

  He flapped his leathery wings and shook his body wildly. His fur went from brown to gray. “Tikoloshe thought it would help me maintain control if I looked younger than the residents. Even I thought I was young again. Then your friend pushed me, and I was reminded. Oh, how I was reminded.”

  François put a wing over his face and cried.

  “Thank you, François,” I said, walking over to comfort him. “But why are we even talking about this? Tikoloshe can be invisible, right? Couldn’t he be nearby?”

  “He can when he wants to be,” said François, wiping his tears away. “But I assure you, I can always tell when Tikoloshe is nearby, and he’s not here now. But when he does come, we’re going to be done for.”

  François started to cry again. The other monsters that had wandered in during his long confession hung their heads with him.

  “No, you’re not done for,” said Director Z. “We’re going to be just fine. You mustn’t fear Tikoloshe. We know where his power lies: In that statue you made us bow to. In the same statue that you used to call him to you.”

  “I don’t understand,” said François. “My poor brain is so tired.”

 

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