by R. L. Stine
Rob made an ULLLLP sound, pressed his hand over his mouth, and ran around to the side of the building to puke his guts out.
“We can’t let the Perfects win Camp Champ again,” Nasty Nancy said. “It will ruin our summer.”
She pointed across the campgrounds to the big, white two-room tent with a hot tub, where the Perfects lived. “I’ll bet they’re sound asleep in there,” Nancy said, “dreaming about how they already won Camp Champ.”
“We could sneak into their tent and give them my leeches,” Rob Slob said. “Then they wouldn’t be perfect anymore.”
“I don’t think that would stop them,” Brainy Janey said. “Not as much as their being smothered in reptiles.”
Handy Sandy tried to snap her fingers, but the rope was in the way. “I think I have an idea,” she said, raising her rope hand. “I still have plenty of Wacky Glue left. What if we sneak over and glue their tent flaps shut?”
“What would that do?” I asked.
“The Perfects will be trapped inside,” Sandy said. “They won’t be able to get out of their tent. And they will miss the air soccer game tomorrow morning.”
“Brilliant!” Babbling Brooke gushed. “We’ll win the game, and they’ll be losers. You’re a genius!” She jumped up, tossed her hands above her head, and did a silent cheer.
“Let’s do it,” Brainy Janey said. “That idea is almost as good as reptiles.”
So . . . that’s what we did.
Handy Sandy hurried back to the girls’ cabin and got her tube of Wacky Glue. Then we all sneaked over to the Perfects’ tent.
“Sssshhhh.” We kept reminding one another to be silent. “Sshhhh.”
“Sssssshhh.”
“Sssshhhhh.”
It’s a wonder all the sshhhhhs didn’t wake up Peter and Patty.
Handy Sandy carefully squeezed a thick layer of glue onto the tent flaps. Then Rob Slob and Cranky Frankie pressed the flaps together until they stuck tight.
“The Perfects will never get out,” Rob said. “No way they are strong enough to push their way through. Someone will have to rescue them. And then they’ll be totally embarrassed.”
“Let’s make sure the tent doesn’t have other openings,” Brainy Janey said.
Walking on tiptoe, we silently moved all around the tent.
“Ssssshhhh.”
“Ssssshhhhh.”
No back opening. No side openings.
“They are trapped in there,” Babbling Brooke said. “We win!” She leaped into the air and did another silent cheer.
We went back to our cabins, giggling, and congratulated ourselves for being geniuses.
“We win! We win!” Babbling Brooke continued to cheer as we got changed for bed.
THIRTY
The next morning, we girls hurried to the mess hall for breakfast. But Peter and Patty Perfect were already at a table. They waved to us as we stared back at them in shock.
Who could believe it?
Handy Sandy strode over to their table. She pressed her hands against her sides and stared at them. “How did you get out of your tent?” she demanded.
Peter swallowed a forkful of scrambled egg substitute. “We used the basement door,” he said.
Sandy slapped her own forehead. “Basement door? Your tent has a basement?”
“Of course,” Patty Perfect replied. “Where else would we put our air conditioner?”
“These blackberries are terrific,” Peter said, raising his spoon. “Patty and I always eat eighteen berries a day for good nutrition.”
“Once I slipped up,” Patty said, “and only ate seventeen blackberries. I was hungry for the rest of the day.”
“Have a good breakfast,” Peter said, then turned to his sister. “How many blackberries have I eaten? They made me lose count.”
We slumped to our table, sighing in defeat. From across the room, we watched Peter and Patty having their perfect breakfast.
“We’ll think of another plan,” Brainy Janey said. “There are a thousand things we can do to stop them from being Camp Champ.”
“Name one,” Nasty Nancy said.
“Give me time to wake up my brilliant brain,” Janey said. “This morning is free swim in Lake Bleccch. I’m sure we can think up at least a dozen ways to embarrass them in the water.”
“Name one,” Nasty Nancy said again.
Janey started to answer. But the mess hall door swung open, and the boys came marching in—with Adam Bomb leading the way.
“Adam! You’re back!” I cried.
Adam took a short bow. “I pulled myself together,” he said. “So, what did I miss?”
“Not much,” Nasty Nancy told him. “The Perfects are still perfect.”
“There must be a way to stop them from being Camp Champ,” Adam said.
“Name one,” Nasty Nancy replied.
Brainy Janey shot her a look. “You’re so not helpful,” she added.
The boys sat down at the table next to ours. Junkfood John held up a big brown jar. “I brought extra maple syrup,” he said.
“We’re having eggs,” I told him. “We’re not having pancakes.”
“That’s okay,” John said. “I just like drinking syrup.” He opened the jar, tilted it over his mouth, and drank it all down.
Then he began swatting the air with both hands. “Why are all these flies swarming me?” John cried.
“Maybe because you spilled syrup all over your face?” I said.
“No,” John replied, “that’s not the reason. I think it’s because I’m sitting next to Rob Slob.”
He was right. The flies must have been drawn by the smell of garbage. Rob’s normal smell.
“Where is Nervous Rex?” Babbling Brooke asked. “Is he coming out of the cabin today?”
Adam Bomb shook his head. “Rex won’t come out. He doesn’t want to swim in Lake Bleccch. He said water gives him the heebie-jeebies.”
“What are heebie-jeebies?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Rob Slob answered. “But I think I have a couple of them climbing up my neck.”
Brainy Janey snapped her fingers. “Oh wow,” she said. “Wow oh wow. Rob, you just gave me an awesome, brilliant, award-winning, amazing, astounding, gob-smacking idea. And did I mention brilliant?”
I leaned across the table. “Janey, what’s your idea?” I asked.
THIRTY-ONE
Leaky Lindsay here. I’m going to do my best to continue the story.
Janey gazed around the table. She—
AHCHOOOOOO.
AHCHOOOOOEY. AHCHOOOOEY.
AHHHHCHOOO.
Sorry, I can’t do this.
Please don’t choose me again.
THIRTY-TWO
Cranky Frankie here. Great. Now it’s up to me to continue the story. Well, here goes nothing.
We gave Leaky Lindsay a tablecloth to use as a tissue. “Are you sure you no longer have a cold?” I asked her.
Lindsay had sneezed all over her breakfast. And mine. “I think so,” she said.
We turned back to Brainy Janey to continue telling us her big plan.
“Remember yesterday?” Janey said.
“What day was that?” Wacky Jackie asked.
“It was yesterday,” Janey replied.
“Are you sure?” Jackie asked.
“Am I sure of what?” Janey demanded.
“Sure it was yesterday?” Jackie said.
I squinted at Jackie. “Can I make a polite request?” I asked her.
“Of course. What’s your polite request?” Jackie said.
“Shut yer yap.”
“That wasn’t polite,” Wacky Jackie said. “Not even a little.”
“Oh. Sorry,” I replied. “Shut yer yap, please.”
“That’s better.”
Brainy Janey started again. “Yesterday, Head Counselor Mama told us about Lake Bleccch,” she began. “She said we were going to have free swim this morning. And she warned us about the Lake Bleccch Monster
. Remember?”
“What day was that?” Wacky Jackie asked.
I dumped my eggs over her head, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“It was yesterday,” Janey replied. “Mama said it was a camp legend. The Lake Bleccch Monster has been spotted by campers many times over the years.”
Peter and Patty Perfect finished their breakfast. They waved to us with perfect smiles on their faces, and their teeth gleamed brightly in the morning light. Janey stopped talking until they were out the door.
“The Lake Bleccch Monster is a big, hairy creature that lives underwater on the bottom of the lake,” Janey said. “Mama said sometimes it rises to the surface, roaring and snarling, searching for something to eat.”
“Are you sure she wasn’t talking about Junkfood John,” I asked.
Janey ignored me. “Do you remember the warning from Head Counselor Mama?” she asked. “Mama said if you see the monster, that means it’s hungry. And to swim for your life.”
“Mama should shut her yap,” I said. “She was just trying to scare us.”
“No way,” Babbling Brooke said. “Mama is too kind. Why would she want to scare us?”
“What planet are you living on?” I asked her.
“It doesn’t matter,” Brainy Janey said. “This is how we are going to ruin Peter and Patty’s swim.”
We all grew silent, eagerly waiting to hear Janey’s idea.
She turned to Rob Slob, who was busy batting away flies.
“Listen, Rob,” Janey said. “When we get into the lake, you wait till no one is looking. Then you dive under the water.”
“Then what?” Rob said. “I stay there?”
“No,” Janey replied. “You burst up with a deafening roar right behind Patty and Peter. They will think you are the Lake Bleccch Monster, and they will scream like babies!”
“Brilliant!” Babbling Brooke cried. “Brilliant!”
“They’ll scream like babies, and everyone will laugh at them. And their chances will be ruined,” Janey said.
“Brilliant!” Brooke gushed again. “You’re brilliant!”
“I’ll do it,” Rob Slob said. “I always wanted to be a monster. It’s on my bucket list.”
“What day is this?” Wacky Jackie asked.
THIRTY-THREE
Adam Bomb here—back and better than ever (except for the dizziness).
We were all excited about our plan to scare the Perfect twins and ruin their chances of being Camp Champs. Brainy Janey had done it again.
Babbling Brooke wanted to do a cheer. So she jumped up and started to make one up:
“GIVE ME A B!
“WHAT RHYMES WITH B?
“ANYONE HAVE ANY SUGGESTIONS?”
It wasn’t a very good cheer. And we didn’t have time to finish it. We had to change into our swimsuits and get to the lake.
Back in the cabin, I asked Nervous Rex if he wanted to come out and swim. He started to shake and said, “Water makes me nervous. Once, I almost drowned sipping from a water fountain.”
Rex hadn’t seen the sun for days. Moss was starting to grow on his back. At least, I think it was moss. He might have been wearing one of Rob Slob’s shirts.
The rest of us changed and hurried to Lake Bleccch.
Head Counselor Mama was waiting for us on the shore. And we could see the girls trotting over from their cabin on the other side of the lake.
Patty and Peter Perfect wore matching red swimsuits and were slapping sunscreen on each other. “Working on our perfect tan,” Peter said.
“We always do stretching exercises before we get in the water,” Patty said. “Muscle tone is very important if you want to be as perfect as we are.”
Cranky Frankie picked up a clump of soft dirt, made a mudball, and heaved it at them. But he missed, and it smacked Pat Splat on the back of the head instead.
SPLAAAAAT.
“Do you cluck-clucks know how to swim?” Mama asked.
We all raised our hands.
“I don’t really care,” Mama said. “But if one of you drowns, I might get in trouble.”
“Is the water cold?” Wacky Jackie asked.
“Does a camel have lips?” Mama answered.
That didn’t make any sense, but I didn’t want to be the one to tell her. She had her cane stretched out in one hand. And I knew she liked to use it to make a point.
Mama had a silver whistle hanging from her neck. She picked it up with her other hand. “When I blow the whistle, everyone in the water,” she said. “And when I blow it again, everyone out of the water. Is that clear?”
Wacky Jackie raised her hand. “Is that in or out?”
“Is what in or out?” Mama snapped.
Jackie shrugged. “Just asking.”
“First whistle blow—in the water,” Mama said. “Second blow—out of the water.”
“What if we are already out of the water?” Jackie said. “What do we do when we hear the second whistle blow? Get back in the water?”
Mama frowned and shook her head. “No. Don’t go back in.”
“What if we didn’t hear the first whistle blow and we didn’t get in the water?” Jackie asked.
“You’ll hear it,” Mama said. She brought her face close to Wacky Jackie and blew the whistle right in Jackie’s ear.
“Whoa!” Jackie jumped a mile in the air and came down shaking her head. “What did that whistle blow mean?” she asked Mama. “Should I get in the water?”
Mama GRRRRRED like an angry tiger. “Okay, you bim-bums. Just follow my instructions.”
“What were your instructions?” Junkfood John asked. “I was chewing these Oyster Crunch Bites so loud I couldn’t hear.”
Head Counselor Mama let out an exasperated groan. Then she turned to Handy Sandy and pointed to something that Sandy was holding. “What have you got there?” she demanded.
Sandy held it up in front of her. “I made my own goggles,” she said.
Sandy is so handy, she can make anything. One morning, she made waffles out of pancakes. Now that’s clever!
Mama squinted at the goggles. “What are they made out of?” she asked.
Sandy raised them higher. “I used the bottoms of soda bottles,” she said.
“But you can’t see through them!” Mama declared.
“I still have a few kinks to work out,” Sandy told her.
“Are we allowed to splash one another?” Nasty Nancy asked.
“That’s against camp rules, nuk-nuk,” Mama said. “Didn’t you read page one hundred forty-three of the rule book? Campers are only allowed to splash themselves.”
Patty Perfect held up a big red-and-white beach ball. “We brought our own beach ball from home,” she said. “Peter and I never go in the water without a beach ball for perfect fun in the sun.”
Cranky Frankie threw another mudball at the twins. But it slipped out of his hand and landed on his own head.
“Okay, lum-lums,” Mama said. “Have a great swim. And don’t pay any attention to the big clumps of green goo in the water. That’s just a little bit of radioactive waste matter. It’s really no big deal.”
Mama raised the whistle to her mouth and blew. Then we all stampeded toward the water. But we stopped and turned back when the whistle kept whistling.
Mama was struggling to pull the whistle from her mouth, but it wouldn’t stop.
The shrill sound rose like a siren and whistled and whistled and whistled.
Mama dropped her cane and used both hands to tug at the whistle string.
I cried out when she swallowed the string, too!
GULLLLP.
We could see it slide down her throat!
Mama gasped and made choking sounds.
And the whistle kept whistling. It was in her stomach and still whistling.
Mama tried to control her breathing, but the whistle just kept on going.
We all gathered around and stared at her, wondering what we should do.
Wacky Jackie raised
her hand. “Mama,” she said, “how will we know when to get out of the water?”
Mama got so angry at Jackie, she started to hiccup. And the next thing we knew, the whistle and the string came out. And then she reached for her cane.
THIRTY-FOUR
I ran into the water. I was already up to my knees when I realized it was freezing cold. Gobs of radioactive waste were coating my legs, but it was too late to turn back.
Brainy Janey dove under the surface. When she came up, she flashed me the thumbs-up signal. We both knew what was about to happen. The Perfect twins would have their swim ruined. And we were all going to have a good laugh before being declared Camp Champs.
The morning sun was high in the sky. And I got used to the cold water very quickly. I swam out from the shore, and then floated on my back for a while.
It felt awesome. I think everyone was happy and excited for our first swim.
Peter and Patty Perfect swam in a circle around us, demonstrating different strokes. “This is a sidestroke,” Peter said, swimming on his side. He turned over. “And this is the other sidestroke. I do it perfectly because I’m a natural water person.”
You’ll be stroking for your life in a minute, I thought. I couldn’t wait for the big moment. Rob Slob, do your thing!
“We don’t do the butterfly stroke,” Patty said. “We do the monarch butterfly stroke. It’s a lot prettier.”
She splashed around for a while, showing us the monarch butterfly stroke. Then she and her brother tossed their beach ball back and forth, sending it higher and higher and batting it to each other perfectly.
Come on, come on, I thought. It’s scare time!
We were all watching the twins. We knew what was about to happen, and we were ready.
And then . . . it happened.
A booming roar rose up from the water. The whole lake seemed to shake as a huge surge formed, growing taller—until a high wave burst behind the Perfect twins.
They screamed—we all screamed—as an enormous, hairy beast burst up from beneath the surface. It raised its ugly head in a furious roar and slapped the water so hard, another high wave shot up into the sky.