Monster Club

by Gavin Brown

  “He’s probably at home icing his butt,” Spike added. “If either of you screw up and get me bit, you’re going to pay.”

  It was no big surprise that the scrawny kid had failed. Monster hunting was serious business, and you needed serious brawn to get the job done.

  The door opened, and a gray-haired woman with stooped shoulders opened the door.

  “What do you want?” Mrs. Peabody demanded, glaring over the top of her bifocal glasses at them. “I’m in the middle of a game here.”

  “Your contractor, Jason from AppVenture, wasn’t able to solve your monster problem, so we’ve been sent here to do the job properly,” Spike said.

  Tommy nodded. They hadn’t exactly been sent by anyone, but it wasn’t exactly a lie either. Spike had a “creative” relationship with the truth.

  “You three?” Mrs. Peabody asked, raising an eyebrow. “That gremlin seemed pretty nasty!”

  Tommy growled and stood up extra tall but didn’t say any of the retorts that came to mind about her being the old lady who lived next door. They were being paid to help her, after all.

  “We’re very experienced and have a track record of monster hunting success,” Spike said smoothly. “Can you tell us where the gremlin has been sighted?”

  Mrs. Peabody shrugged. “Okay, well, it’s your butts on the line. The dang thing has taken up residence in the attic. I think I saw it run up there just a few minutes ago. I can’t get up there to get out my old game controllers. These fancy new ones just aren’t any good.”

  Mrs. Peabody stepped back and the three friends trooped into the living room. There was a big-screen TV wider across than Tommy was tall, and it displayed a line of scores from a video game.

  “You play Martians vs. Marines?” Tommy asked, jaw dropping. It was one of his favorite games, even if he wasn’t all that good at it. It was the kind of game where all you needed to do was shoot stuff. He liked that.

  “It looks like she doesn’t just play,” Spike said, pointing to the top of the score screen. Above everyone else, with the highest score, there was a single username. “PeaBodySlam. Is that you, Mrs. Peabody?”

  Mrs. Peabody sat down on the couch, in a place that looked dented from years of holding her body in exactly that position. “I’m retired, my husband passed away, my kids and grandkids live on the East Coast, and I have osteoporosis like you wouldn’t believe,” she said. “What else should I do with my time?”

  “It’s just … not what I expected,” Tommy admitted. He’d always thought of Mrs. Peabody as the old lady who took five minutes to walk down the driveway to her car.

  Mrs. Peabody shrugged. “The money I win from tournaments helps pay the bills. Plus, I like crushing the life out of kids who say dirty things on the microphone. I always say that a head shot is the best comeback.”

  The three looked at one another, too surprised to say anything.

  “Now go do your job and don’t distract me. Having this gremlin causing trouble has really hurt my KDR. It keeps chewing through my cables just enough so they flake out randomly.”

  “KDR?” Karim whispered as they walked up the stairs to the second floor.

  “Kill-to-Death Ratio,” Spike explained. “It’s how many players she takes out for each time they get her.”

  On the screen, Mrs. Peabody used a ray gun the size of a small tree to blast away a lizard alien on what looked like the Great Wall of China. Tommy loved the dedication to realism that the guys who made Martians vs. Marines had.

  The three tromped up the stairs to the second floor. Everything was printed in floral patterns—the walls, the pillows, the chairs. It was a bit odd for a lady who was downstairs playing first-person shooters competitively. After a minute, they found the pull-down door to the attic, and Spike motioned for them all to be silent. A few seconds later, they heard a faint scratching from above them.

  “That must be it,” Tommy whispered, his heart twitching in his chest. “A real monster, right here on my block!” A real monster that they could punch!

  “Right, so we need a plan,” Spike said in a hushed voice. “What’s our strategy here?”

  “Can’t we just smack it with the sword?” Tommy asked. That was his favorite type of adventuring. He got pretty bored of the stuff with clues, plans, sabotage, and all that.

  Spike sighed, then turned to Karim. “What does Mortimer’s Monsterpedia say?”

  Karim quickly pulled up the entry on his phone so they could read it.

  Tommy shook his head. Why did they need to do all this research? Why couldn’t they just charge in and start hitting things?

  Gremlins are small, human-shaped creatures with wiry builds and blue skin. They typically stand about two feet tall.

  Gremlins are thought to have originated in the British Isles but have spread around the world to most industrialized nations by stowing away on ships and, since the twentieth century, commercial aircraft. They delight in causing trouble, in particular by sabotaging technology.

  Gremlins are Level 3 monsters not because they are strong, but because they are mischievous and spiteful. Their most obvious weapon is their painful bite, but the real danger is that they are fiercely intelligent and will trick you into jumping into a dangerous ravine without a twinge of guilt. They are immune to most conventional weapons and damage. In fact, there are reports of gremlins being hit by trucks or crushed by tank treads and surviving.

  Gremlins rely primarily on their incredibly sharp sight. Their eyes give them excellent peripheral vision. If you can get them in the darkness or otherwise restrict their eyesight, they will be at a major disadvantage. Only enchanted weapons can harm them, and thus they are extremely afraid of all magical items.

  Their bite really does hurt! Before you go after one, make double sure that all your most sensitive bits are well covered up. No further comments on that story …

  “It’s probably too fast for that,” Karim answered, shaking his head. “But they’re really afraid of magical weapons.”

  “We can use that,” Spike said.

  “Yeah!” Karim said, lighting up. “We can chase it into a trap. Maybe a pit trap?”

  “Okay, sure.” Tommy shrugged. He was still annoyed that they couldn’t just hit it with the sword. Shouldn’t they at least try the simple approach?

  “No,” Spike said. “Too hard to get it to go to the right place. Also, that’s a lot more digging than I feel like doing.”

  “Do gremlins have any weaknesses?” Tommy asked. Maybe it would have something they could use.

  “Yeah, ferret fur,” Spike said with a wicked grin. “Tommy, can you get some for us?”

  “Watch it, you,” Tommy said with a growl. He’d looked it up on the internet later. Ferrets and weasels looked exactly the same. That whole thing was not his fault.

  “Not really,” Karim said. “They’re small, crazy fast, and have supersharp eyesight. They tend to wait until you get close, then blow by you and escape.” Karim scrolled and kept reading. “Also, they can jump down pretty much any distance. Like ants.”

  “Okay,” Spike said. “Let’s think methodically. Is there anything there we can use? Maybe the fact that it’s possible to get close to them before they run?”

  “Yeah!” Karim said.

  Tommy sat back and took out a Brotein (“ ‘My muscles are too big’ … said no one ever”) bar to munch on. Best to let Karim and Spike handle this sort of thing. They’d let him know what his job was once they hatched a plan. He focused on tightening his core up with some quick flexing.

  “We’ll use its own advantages against it,” Karim was saying when Tommy tuned back in to the conversation a few minutes later.

  “Okay, I like it. Now that we’ve cased out the joint and have a plan,” Spike said, “we’re going to need some gear. Tommy, you stay here and guard the attic door. Don’t let it come down.”

  She pointed at the edge of the stairs. The pull-down stairs, even raised, weren’t quite the right size for the space they
were in, and there was a gap of several inches between the bottom stair and the frame. “That’s probably how it comes in,” she said.

  Tommy gingerly sat down on one of the plush chairs with a nice paisley print, putting some of the pillows onto the floor, out of his way.

  “Taste my grenades!” they heard Mrs. Peabody yell from below.

  “We’re going to need something to hold the gremlin in,” Spike said as she and Karim went back down the stairs. “And some sort of protection for Tommy. These little things can be pretty aggressive.”

  “And I have an idea for how we can neutralize its eyesight,” Karim said before their voices faded away.

  Tommy settled into the chair, unwrapping the rest of his snack. Sit here and look intimidating? That was a job Tommy could handle.

  A few minutes later, their plan was ready for action. It wasn’t the simplest strategy, but it had two different ways they could win, so she liked that part about it.

  Spike stood outside Mrs. Peabody’s house, phone in hand. “You ready?”

  “Good to go,” Tommy said on the other end. “Do you really think this pot will hold him?”

  “It’s stainless steel!” Spike said. “Just stuff him in there.” She had looted the pot from her mom’s kitchen. Ms. Hernandez only used it on days when they had a bunch of guests over, anyway.

  Tommy was getting a chance to try it his way first. Spike didn’t expect him to succeed, but she hadn’t bothered to tell him that. Besides, maybe he’d get incredibly lucky and charging straight after the gremlin would work perfectly.

  “We’re climbing up the stairs now,” Karim’s voice came through the phone. “I’ve got the sword. It’s glowing slightly, which means there’s a monster nearby.”

  “Good,” Spike answered. “Remember to keep near the door with the sword. The last thing we want is for this thing to run down through Mrs. Peabody’s living room.”

  “Got it,” Karim answered. “We’re in the attic and we’ve pulled the stairs up after us. I’m guarding the door and Tommy is opening the window.”

  Spike could see the window in the attic pop open. Tommy stuck his face out and grinned, then disappeared back inside.

  “And now I’m going to catch this dang thing,” Tommy said.

  Spike waited, poised for action if plan A didn’t work out. She heard muttering and footsteps through the phone. Then the footsteps increased in speed.

  “C’mere, you!” Tommy said.

  “He’s found the gremlin!” Karim reported, voice raising in pitch. “He’s chasing the gremlin. What do I do if it comes after me? Spike?!”

  “Stay calm, Karim,” she responded, trying to keep her voice as level and neutral as possible. “It’s afraid of the sword.” Why did Karim always have to freak out? He was the one wielding their magic weapon!

  There was a crash on the other end of the line.

  “It seems to be staying away from me,” he answered, sounding slightly less panicked.

  “You’re mine, gremlin!” Tommy yelled.

  Spike heard the sounds of a scuffle, and then a series of bangs. She squinted at the open attic window, and a puff of sawdust had come out.

  “That thing is fast,” Karim said.

  “He tried to bite me!” Tommy added. “Good thing I’m wearing three pairs of jeans, you little demon!”

  It was a good thing that Big Tom was still larger than his son. The extra two pairs of jeans had fit perfectly and would protect Tommy from any but the most serious bites—even if he looked utterly ridiculous. But Spike kind of enjoyed seeing Tommy look even goofier than usual.

  “Behind you, Tommy!” Karim said urgently.

  “I had my gloves on him!” Tommy said after another series of crashes. The thick leather work gloves had been Karim’s idea, along with the ski mask. Tommy was basically impenetrable. It wasn’t quite the enchanted elf-forged armor that Spike had seen Mad Mackenzie wear in her adventure streams, but at least it seemed to be working. And it wasn’t her body risking gremlin bite marks, after all.

  Another slam. Another crash. Tommy yelled something angry.

  And then, in a shower of dust, the gremlin appeared in the window and fell to the ground. The gremlin was a tiny, man-shaped creature covered in saggy blue skin. It ran in a whir of sharp-looking elbows and knees, its beady eyes glaring at Spike in challenge. It stuck out its tongue at her, toying with her. Spike tensed to race after it, but the monster darted away.

  “It’s under the porch,” Spike told the boys. “Get down and let’s flush it out.”

  Spike circled the perimeter, making sure that the gremlin couldn’t get out from under the porch without her noticing. A minute later Karim and Tommy charged out the front door.

  Karim was holding the sword carefully downward, just like his kindergarten teacher had taught him to walk with scissors, probably. Tommy was carrying a huge stainless-steel pot in one hand and its lid in the other.

  Spike grinned. The three pairs of jeans and three shirts puffed out Tommy’s already impressive size even farther.

  “We have to get it out into the open.” Her hands tightened around the control pad in her hands. It was time for plan B. Her plan. Of course.

  Karim advanced cautiously, sword held out in front of him as far as his arms would reach.

  Tommy shambled around to the other side, swaying back and forth with each step. “Why can’t I carry the sword?” he complained. “It’s as hot as the surface of Mercury in here!”

  Karim had only just ducked his head under the porch when the gremlin streaked out from the other side of the porch. Those little buggers did not like magic items.

  “Got you!” Tommy yelled as he leaped with the pot. But the gremlin slipped right past Tommy with a tricky side step, leaving the large boy stumbling wildly. His arms windmilled for a moment, and he flopped into a pile on the lawn. Spike raised an eyebrow at him and shook her head disapprovingly.

  A moment later the gremlin had run up a tree and was perched in the high branches.

  “Go! Go!” Spike yelled. “Trap it up there!” The plan was going to work.

  Tommy and Karim ran to the base of the tree, brandishing their weapons. Spike grinned as the sword’s purple polish sparkled in the streetlight.

  “We’re going to get you, you little monster!” Tommy yelled. The gremlin looked back at him and stuck its tongue out, as if daring the boy to try to climb up after him. Tommy just stared up and growled.

  Spike pressed the controls on her remote. There was a whirring sound, and then her dad’s drone lifted into the air and buzzed its way up to the top of the tree. Her breath caught in her chest as she tapped the controls gently to position the quadcopter directly above the gremlin. The creature looked up, eyeing the device suspiciously and tensing for a fight. The copter had a small tin can hanging underneath it.

  Spike would get only one shot at this. Gremlins could survive jumps from almost any height, so there was nothing to stop it from leaping out of the tree and running off. But so far, more than scared or nervous, it seemed to enjoy taunting the kids.

  “A tiny bit farther!” Karim shouted. He had positioned himself under the gremlin so that he could see the alignment. The quadcopter hung above the gremlin, and Spike tapped the controls to lower the copter closer to the creature. The gremlin kept glaring at the drone, making what Spike could only assume were rude and quite inappropriate gestures.

  “Now?” she asked.

  “Do it!” Karim yelled.

  She bit her lip and pressed a button. The can flipped instantaneously, unleashing a stream of reddish liquid right over the little monster. The gremlin jumped, but it was too late: The paint landed right on its face, and it fell to the ground.

  Karim, Tommy, and Spike charged at the beast, but the gremlin moved faster than any of them. It shot like lightning, past the grabbing hands of Tommy and the flat of Karim’s sword. It ran faster than the eye could see—straight into Mrs. Peabody’s garbage can. With a metallic clang, the gr
emlin fell to the ground like a rock, temporarily stunned.

  Spike laughed as she ran to the knocked-out gremlin. The red liquid—the jalapeño pepper oil—had blinded the creature.

  Spike made a grab for the two-foot-tall gremlin, but it lashed out erratically and bit her arm, leaving an angry purple mark. “Ow!” she said, rubbing the bruise.

  Tommy rushed over and took hold of the gremlin with his gloved hands. It struggled for a moment, flailing blindly, but in a few seconds Tommy had stuffed the creature into the stainless-steel pot, and Karim slapped the lid on, trapping it inside.

  “Little brat really ran me around!” Tommy said. “But we got you, you hear!”

  They could hear angry squeals and scratching coming from inside the pot.

  Karim gritted his teeth and held on. The gremlin in the pot tried to push its way out several times, yowling the whole time. Then, suddenly, it fell silent. The poor thing was probably scared out of its mind, but this was for the best.

  “What now?” Tommy asked.

  “Let’s try Mortimer’s Monsterpedia!” Karim suggested. “I’ve been dying to try the new Monster Tongue Translator feature they added.”

  “Whoa, really?” Tommy said.

  “Worth a shot,” Spike said, pulling out her phone.

  “We’re not going to hurt you,” Spike said into her phone. A few seconds later, the phone let out a series of squeaks and clicks. “We’re going to send you to a preserve where you won’t bother anyone.”

  The gremlin’s only response was to redouble its attack on the inside of the pasta pot.

  Karim hoped this would work. They had a chance to find out what the gremlin was saying. Though it was pretty obvious to him.

  “Maybe we should call the Burbank Monster Control Bureau and see if they’ll take it off our hands,” Karim suggested.

  But before Spike could dial the number, a large black van pulled into the driveway. Two figures dressed in black suits and wearing silver sunglasses hopped out of the van. Karim recognized them as the AppVenture agents who had picked up the basilisk, and they were clearly on a mission.