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Chicken Chicken

Page 7

by R. L. Stine


  “Politeness is so important,” Vanessa said, holding us up to her face. “Especially for young people. That’s what I care about more than anything else in the world. Good manners.”

  Her dark eyes narrowed at us. “That day in front of the grocery,” she scolded, “you didn’t apologize for crashing into me. So I had no choice. I had to punish you.” She studied us, tsk-tsking.

  So that’s why Anthony wasn’t turned into a chicken, too! I realized. Before he ran away, Anthony had called out to Vanessa that he was sorry.

  If only Cole and I had apologized then! We wouldn’t be peeping little chicks today.

  But how were we to know that Vanessa was such a manners freak?

  She carried us over to a tall bookshelf and held us close to the books. “Do you see my collection?” she asked. “All etiquette books. Dozens and dozens of manners books. I have dedicated my life to manners.”

  She gazed at us sternly. “If only kids today weren’t so rude. I wish I could help you two. I really do. But your apology came too late. Far too late.”

  She set us both down on the desk. I guess her hand was getting tired. She rubbed it tenderly with her other hand.

  Now what? I wondered.

  Was she going to send us home like this? Vanessa was right. Cole and I would never make it. Some dog or cat or raccoon would turn us into dinner before we went a block or two.

  I cheeped in panic. My tiny feathers stood straight up. What could we do?

  I had one last, desperate idea.

  One more time, I climbed onto the typewriter keyboard. And I began to type …

  THANK YOU FOR EXPLAINING TO US. AND THANK YOU FOR TRYING TO TEACH US TO BE POLITE. YOURS TRULY, COLE AND CRYSTAL

  I said it was a desperate idea. About as desperate as a chicken can get. But I stared up at Vanessa, watching her read it. Hoping … hoping …

  “I don’t believe it!” Vanessa exclaimed. She tore the sheet of paper from the typewriter and read it again. “A thank-you note!” she cried. “You wrote me a thank-you note!”

  She gazed down at Cole and me with a broad smile. “No kids today ever write thank-you notes!” she cried. “This is the politest thing I ever saw!”

  She danced around with it. “A thank-you note! An actual thank-you note!”

  And then she turned. Pointed a finger at Cole, then at me. Mumbled some words. And pointed again.

  “Whooooa!” I cried, feeling my body grow. I felt like a balloon inflating. The little yellow feathers fell away. My hair grew back. My arms … my hands!

  “YAAAAAY!” I cried. Cole joined my happy cheer.

  We were back! Vanessa had changed us back—to us!

  We pinched each other, just to make sure. Then we tossed back our heads and laughed. We were so happy!

  Vanessa laughed, too. We all laughed gleefully together.

  Then Vanessa turned and started toward the kitchen. “Let me get you both a drink,” she offered. “I know how thirsty these spells can make a person.”

  “Thank you!” I cried, remembering how important politeness was to Vanessa.

  “Yes—thank you!” Cole added loudly.

  We grinned at each other. We pinched each other again. Skin! Real skin—with no feathers!

  I moved my lips. I licked them with my tongue. Soft, human lips that didn’t click.

  Vanessa returned with two glasses of soda. “I know kids like cola,” she said. She handed a glass to me and a glass to Cole. “Drink up,” she urged. “You’ve been through a lot.”

  I did feel terribly thirsty. I took a few long sips of the cola. It felt cold and tingly on my tongue. Wonderful! Better than seeds off the carpet.

  Wow. I was so happy to be me again.

  I raised my eyes and saw Cole tilt his glass to his mouth and drink the soda down. He was really thirsty!

  When he finished, he lowered his glass—and let out the loudest burp I ever heard!

  Cole burst out laughing.

  I couldn’t help myself.

  It was such a funny burp, I started laughing, too.

  I was still laughing when Vanessa stepped in front of me.

  What is her problem? I wondered.

  Then she pointed her finger, first at Cole, then at me. And whispered, “Pig pig.”

  R.L. Stine’s books are read all over the world. So far, his books have sold more than 300 million copies, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. Besides Goosebumps, R.L. Stine has written the teen series Fear Street and the funny series Rotten School, as well as the Mostly Ghostly series, The Nightmare Room series, and the two-book thriller Dangerous Girls. R.L. Stine lives in New York with his wife, Jane, and Minnie, his King Charles spaniel. You can learn more about him at RLStine.com.

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  Copyright © 1997 by Scholastic Inc.

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, GOOSEBUMPS, GOOSEBUMPS HORRORLAND, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 
First printing, March 1997

  e-ISBN 978-1-338-33824-9

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

 

 

 


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