by Steve Shreve
Benny and his uncle quickly wrapped King Butt in toilet paper and bundled him off to the airport.
There wasn’t much to do on the long flight, so Benny tried to chat with King Butt. But unfortunately, mummies aren’t really great conversationalists.
Finally, Benny and his uncle Howard arrived at the museum and dropped off King Butt.
The curator looked at the mummy strangely, but he didn’t say anything.
Benny had just one more thing he had to do before going home.
He tore a long piece of toilet paper off King Butt and headed toward the bathroom.
chapter 3
Pirates
or
The Truth
about life on
the high seas
One Tuesday morning, when Benny should have been at school and his father should have been at work, the two of them were driving around in the family station wagon.
“Hey, Dad. Where are we going?” Benny asked.
“Down to Dead Man’s Wharf,” his father replied. “I thought maybe we’d go deep-sea fishing.”
“Really?”
“Yep. I got a coupon,” his father said.
Benny was so excited that as soon as his father parked the car, he jumped out and ran down to the dock. But what he saw was a great, four-masted galleon.
As his father caught up, a mean-looking man with a gold tooth and a hook in place of his left hand walked over and introduced himself.
“Arrgh! I’m Captain Long John Underwear! Scourge of the Seven Seas and three of the Great Lakes! What d’ye want?”
“We’re here to go fishing,” said Benny.
“Here’s my coupon,” said his father.
“Oh, I’ll take ye, but you’ll have to work on the voyage—me cabin boy jumped ship when we made port in Cleveland last week, and I be needin’ all the help I can get.”
“Aww, man,” Benny complained.
“Do we get a better discount then?” asked his father.
The captain ignored him.
“Come on then and meet me crew,” said the captain.
Benny and his father followed Captain Long John Underwear up the gangplank and onto the ship.
“This is me first mate, Handsome Francis, and me second mate, Gunpowder Pete,” said the captain.
“Welcome aboard, mateys,” said Handsome Francis.
“Arrgh!” said Gunpowder Pete.
“Hoist anchor!” ordered the captain. “Batten the hatches! Raise the mains’l!”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n!” replied Francis and Pete.
“I don’t feel so good,” said Benny’s father, looking green.
Benny turned to Captain Long John Underwear. “Say, what are we fishing for? Tuna? Swordfish? Shark?”
“We’re after the most elusive, wily, dangerous creature that ever swam these waters!” replied the captain. “The Great Man-Eating Killer Squid!”
“Why?” asked Benny.
“We can sell the ink to the ballpoint pen factory for a pretty profit,” explained the captain. “And after we squeeze out the ink, you and your father can take home all the squid you can eat.”
Hearing this, Benny’s father leaned over the railing and groaned.
“Now, get to work, you,” ordered the captain.
Benny began his chores as the new cabin boy. Somehow, it wasn’t nearly as glamorous as he thought it would be.
He did the laundry...
and cleaned the loo...
and swabbed the poop deck...
and cooked the meals.
Later that day, as Benny fried up a nice, plump rat for lunch, first mate Handsome Francis raised the alarm.
“Squid ho!” he shouted from the crow’s nest. “Squid off the port bow!”
Benny ran up on deck. At first he didn’t see anything. Then, off to his left, a gigantic, suction-cup-covered tentacle rose up out of the dark water. Then another tentacle. And another. And then some more tentacles.
And there it was—the Great Man-Eating Killer Squid!
“Man, that’s a big squid,” said Handsome Francis.
“That’s a lot of ink,” said Gunpowder Pete.
“That’s a lot of money we’ll get for selling it to the ballpoint pen factory,” said Captain Long John Underwear.
Just then, the Great Man-Eating Killer Squid grabbed the ship in its powerful tentacles and began pulling it down into the briny deep.
“C’mon, mates!” yelled the captain. “Man the harpoons! Ready the cannon!”
Handsome Francis grabbed a harpoon and prepared to spear the killer squid. He tied a heavy rope to the harpoon, took aim, and threw it as hard as he could.
But in his haste, Handsome Francis got his foot tangled in the rope and threw himself overboard, missing the squid completely.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the quickly sinking ship, second mate Gunpowder Pete loaded a six-pounder into the ship’s cannon.
“Fire!” ordered the captain.
Gunpowder Pete lit the fuse.
BLAM! The cannon exploded with a deafening roar.
But the cannonball never left the cannon—it was stuck halfway up the barrel.
“I guess I should clean the cannon more often,” said Gunpowder Pete.
“Well, there’s only one way to handle this now,” said Captain Long John Underwear as he picked up a hammer. “The good old-fashioned way!”
The captain bounded over the railing and onto the back of the Great Man-Eating Killer Squid as the ship disappeared beneath the waves.
Benny, who had wisely read all of the ship’s safety instructions (because you never knew when they might come in handy), and his father were already in the lifeboat as the ship was dragged down to Davy Jones’ Locker.
Before long, they were back on dry land and walking across the parking lot toward the car.
“What a great fishing trip!” exclaimed Benny. “Can we go again sometime?”
“I don’t see why not,” said his father.
chapter 4
The
Booger-man
or
A good Argument
for not picking
your nose
It was late one Thursday night, and everyone was getting ready for bed. Everyone except for Benny—he hated bedtime.
Benny ran around the house in his underwear, as his poor, exhausted father chased him with his toothbrush.
But after awhile, even Benny became tired. So he brushed his teeth, put on his pajamas, and went to the kitchen to feed his dog, Banjo.
They were out of dog food, so Benny fed Banjo some leftover hotdogs and sauerkraut he found at the back of the refrigerator.
Banjo didn’t seem to mind.
Finally, Benny climbed into bed, turned out the lights, pulled up the covers, and fell fast asleep.
But later, a loud noise woke him right up—BANG!
What’s that? he wondered. Benny went to check it out.
He looked in his closet.
He looked in his toy chest.
He even looked through the big, stinky pile of dirty clothes in the corner.
Well, he thought, I’ve checked just about everywhere. Everywhere but under my bed.
He tiptoed across the room, bent down, and slooowly lifted up the covers.
Benny jumped back!
A slimy, bug-eyed monster leaped out.
“BLEEARGH!” he roared. “I’m the Booger-Man! And now that you’ve found me, I’m going to eat you!”
“The Booger-Man?” Benny asked. “I thought it was the Boogey-Man.”
“No, that’s another guy,” the Booger-Man explained. “He lives in Brookfield.”
“Wait a minute,” said Benny. “What are you doing under my bed, anyway?”
“Hey, I just go where the boogers are— and someone’s been wiping a lot of them under this bed. Besides, I need a place to make phone calls, take naps, and do my laundry.”
“I never really thought about all that before,” said Be
nny.
“Yeah, well, a lot of nose-pickers like you don’t,” the Booger-Man replied. “Now hold still so I can eat you.”
“Well, you could eat me,” said Benny, thinking fast, “but I am pretty little.”
The Booger-Man looked closely at Benny. “Hmmm,” he said. “You are a bit small.”
“But my dog’s big and fat,” Benny added. “And he never exercises, so he’s probably good and tender.”
“I suppose that would be okay,” said the Booger-Man. “I only had a light lunch, and I am very hungry.”
So the Booger-Man crept into the living room, where Benny’s dog, Banjo, was snoring loudly.
The Booger-Man quietly snuck up behind Banjo. He opened his mouth as wide as he could and prepared to gobble up the dog in one big, boogery bite.
But just then, a tiny little noise came out of Banjo—“poot.”
“What’s that...”
“...horrible, horrible smell?” cried the Booger-Man.
Banjo had just farted.
“PEE-YEW! What have you been feeding that dog?”
“Hot dogs,” replied Benny, “with sauerkraut.”
The Booger-Man tried to get away from the stink, but it was too late. His eyes began to water, and his stomach began to heave.
“I think I’m going to be sick!” And with that, the Booger-Man raced for the door...
...and straight for the bathroom.
He leaned over the toilet...
...and Benny took this opportunity to sneak up behind him, push him in, and pull the handle— WHOOSH!
The Booger-Man was sucked head-first down into the sewer system.
Benny always knew that the toilet would come in handy one day.
Benny headed back to his bedroom.
But before going to sleep, he took a few minutes to clean up under his bed.
Just in case.
chapter 5
Monkey
Island
or
The Advantage
of opposable
Thumbs
As usual, Benny was wide awake before anyone else one Saturday morning. He rummaged around in his toy chest, looking for something quiet to play with.
Benny reached the very bottom of the chest. “Hey, it’s the treasure map! I’ve been looking for this everywhere!”
Benny had gotten the map in a box of cereal—it led to the treasure of Monkey Island. Since he had nothing better to do this morning...
The journey started by boat, so Benny headed down to the pier, where his father kept a little rowboat. He carefully untied it and began to row due east as the map directed.
All of that rowing was very tiring, and just when he was about to give up, a dark silhouette of trees rose up out of the early morning fog.
Benny couldn’t believe it. He had reached Monkey Island!
Benny landed the boat on the beach and tied it to a coconut tree.
He pulled the treasure map out of his pocket. “According to this map, I need to walk one-thousand, nine-hundred, and sixty-seven paces due south, right through that dark, scary-looking jungle over there.”
So Benny set off through the jungle to find the lost treasure of Monkey Island.
But he had no idea that he was being watched.
Benny counted his paces as he walked. “Nine-hundred and forty-two, nine-hundred and forty-three, nine-hundred and forty-four...”
WHAM! A bamboo cage crashed down on top of him. It was a trap!
“Hey, let me out of here!” Benny yelled.
He heard a rustling in the underbrush. The giant tropical fern leaves parted and out of the dark jungle came...
...the monkeys of Monkey Island!
The littlest monkey stepped forward. “Sorry about that,” he said, looking Benny over. “We thought you were somebody else.”
As the monkeys freed Benny from the bamboo cage, the little monkey added, “I’m Lenny, by the way.”
“I’m Benny. This trap is pretty clever. How did you monkeys build it?”
“We do have opposable thumbs, you know.”
“Ah, right,” said Benny. “But why do you need to set traps in the first place?”
“We’re not the only ones on the island,” explained Lenny.
“Who else is here?” asked Benny.
“Well, we’ve never actually seen anybody, but someone has been sneaking into our village at night and stealing our bananas.” Lenny paused. “And then there’s the ghost...”
Benny gulped. “G-g-ghost?”
“Yep. We’ve seen him down that way.” Lenny pointed to a particularly dark and scary-looking part of the jungle.
“Can you show me on this map?” asked Benny.
“Let’s see,” said Lenny. “He haunts this part of the jungle here.” He pointed at a spot near the X on the map.
“That’s where the lost treasure of Monkey Island is,” said Benny. “That’s what I came here for.”
“Well, I should warn you: they say the ghost is guarding the treasure. I’d better go with you,” said Lenny. “It’s the least I can do after capturing you in that cage.”
So Benny and Lenny headed into the haunted jungle.
Lenny brought along a shovel, because you never knew when a good shovel might come in handy. Benny counted off their paces from where he had left off.
“Nine-hundred and forty-five, nine-hundred and forty-six, nine-hundred and forty-seven, nine-hundred and forty-eight...”
...one-thousand, nine-hundred, and sixty-five; one-thousand, nine-hundred, and sixty-six; one-thousand, nine-hundred, and sixty-seven. That’s it!” said Benny. “We should stop and dig here.”
Lenny lifted the shovel and began to dig.
And dig.
And dig.
Until finally, the shovel hit something hard.
It was a treasure chest!
Benny and Lenny broke the lock with a rock and lifted the lid. The chest was filled with pirate booty: gold doubloons, pearls, diamonds, and rubies.
“Wow!” said Benny. “We’re rich!”
“Hot dog!” said Lenny.
But suddenly the ghost jumped out from behind the bushes.
“Aaah! Ghost!” they yelled.
“Woooh!” the ghost moaned. “I am the spirit that guards the treasure of Monkey Island! Leave now or face the consequences!”
“What kind of consequences?” asked Benny.
“I’ll give you a wet willie,” replied the ghost.
“Aaah! Wet willie!” hollered Benny. “Let’s beat it!”
Benny and Lenny turned and ran.
“Woooh!” moaned the ghost, close behind.
With a nod at Lenny, Benny dodged to the right around a coconut tree.
Lenny sprinted off to the left and came up behind the ghost...
...and hit him in the fanny with the shovel!
“Ouch!” yelled the ghost. “That smarts.”
He stood up, and the sheet he was wearing fell to the ground—he wasn’t a ghost at all!
“Now you know my secret,” said the fake ghost.
“I knew you weren’t a real ghost,” said Lenny. “Ghosts don’t wear glasses. And I bet you’re the one who’s been stealing all our bananas.”
“Who are you anyway?” asked Benny. “And why were you trying to scare us?”
“I’m Larry. I’ve been searching for that treasure for forty years. I came up with the ghost story to scare off anybody else who came looking for it.”
“Why couldn’t you find the treasure sooner?” asked Benny. “Didn’t you have the map from the cereal box?”
“I did,” said Larry, “but I ran out of toilet paper my first night here on the island.”