Night of the Creepy Things (4 page)

The next morning, I woke up with bruises on my neck and an awesome idea for a horror video.

Belzer brought me breakfast in bed, and I hummed all through my scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, potatoes, sun-dried tomatoes, cheese Danish, blueberry muffins, cornflakes, waffles, and toast.

Just a light breakfast for me today. I was too excited about my idea to eat very much.

I pulled on my school uniform, tightened the tie around my neck—the beautiful mix of purple, green, and yellow, the school colors—and hurried outside
to find April-May June.

April-May June is the coolest, hottest girl at Rotten School. She's wicked nuts about me. Only she doesn't know it yet.

I saw her across the Great Lawn, hurrying to class. Her blond ponytail swayed behind her. Her blue eyes sparkled like…like…blue eyes.

“April-May—wait up!” I shouted.

She started to run faster. She always plays hard-to-get. It's proof that she's crazy about me.

I caught up with her and flashed her my best smile. “Nice morning, isn't it?”

“It was a perfect morning till this second,” she said.

She has an awesome sense of humor.

April-May's eyes narrowed at me. She made a disgusted face. “Bernie, what are all those bandages on your neck?”

“Oh…uh…I had a biting accident,” I said.

Her mouth dropped open. Her chewing gum fell out. “You were biting yourself? I
knew
you had a big mouth—but that's
ridiculous
!” She tossed back her head and roared with laughter.

I told you she has a great sense of humor.

I could feel myself blushing. “Actually, it's just mosquito bites,” I lied. “I've got to get some bug spray. I'm so sweet, mosquitoes can't resist me!”

She picked her chewing gum off the walk and popped it back into her mouth. “Bernie, what do you want?” she asked.

“I know you're
dying
to star in my horror movie,” I said. “But you're too shy to ask me. Right?”

She pulled the gum from her mouth and stuck it onto my forehead.

“Is that a yes or a no?” I asked.

“I'd rather eat my toenails whole,” she said.

“Aha! I
knew
you'd be interested!” I cried. “You'll love this idea. It's
Beauty and the Beast II
, starring you and Beast. Perfect, right? You'll play Beauty.”

“No way,” she said.

“Don't worry,” I told her. “We'll clean Beast up so he won't be as scary as in real life.”

“No way,” she said. “I won't do a movie with the kid who ate the class hamster.”

“It was an accident,” I told her. “Beast just wanted a
taste
!”

“No way, Bernie,” April-May said, shaking her head. “I promised Sherman Oaks I'd star in
his
video. Sherman is gonna win, and he said he'll let me be in B. A. Gool's new movie.”

I rolled my eyes. “What kind of horror movie is Sherman making? His life story?”

“Ha-ha, Bernie,” April-May sneered. “You're about as funny as gas pains.”

See? She's totally nuts about me. She just doesn't know how to show it.

April-May pulled the gum off my forehead, popped it back into her beautiful mouth, and hurried away.

I took two steps toward the School House—and two strong hands pulled me into the hedge. I let out a gasp. “Jennifer!”

The Ecch had me by the neck.

“Honey Eyebrows, did I hear you correctly?” she asked. “Were you telling April-May that you want ME to star in
Beauty and the Beast II
?”

“Yes, we're gonna call it
Beast and the Beast
!” I joked.

Uh-oh.

Bad joke.

Very bad joke.

“Jennifer—please—” I begged. “You can take a joke—right?”

“Sure, I can,” she said. “But right now, let's rehearse another scene from MY movie!”

That afternoon, I spotted Sherman Oaks's pal Wes Updood. He was setting up equipment behind the Student Center. I jogged over to him.

“Whussup, dude?” I said to Wes Updood.

He nodded at me. “Hearty granola,” he said. “Bucket of slops. Ya know?”

“For sure,” I replied.

Wes is the coolest, hippest guy at Rotten School. He is so totally cool, no one understands what he's saying!

“What is this stuff?” I asked, pointing at the tall
lamps and boxes of electronics in front of him.

“Shake your salt,” Wes said. “Shake your salt and pepper. But don't shake your booty.”

“No problem,” I said.

“Shaker Heights,” Wes said. “Be there or be square. Know what I mean?”

“Akron, Ohio,” I replied. I was trying to get on his wavelength.

He burst out laughing. “Akron, Ohio?” he repeated. “Ha-ha-ha-ha. Good one! Lake Erie, dude!” He laughed some more.

Luckily, Sherman Oaks came strolling up to us. He slapped my shoulder. “Bernie, old buddy,” he said. “You came to try out for my movie? You're a little early. Auditions don't start till three.”

I blinked. “Try out for your movie?”

“I guess you just can't wait to be in it,” Sherman said.

“Mahwah, New Jersey,” Wes Updood muttered. He pulled more equipment from a large trunk.

“You're joking,” I told Sherman. “Why would anyone want to be in
your
movie when they can be in
mine
?”

Sherman snickered in reply. “What's your movie called, Bernie?”

“I'm not telling,” I said. “What's
your
movie called?”

“
Don't Tell Anyone
,” Sherman replied.

“I won't tell anyone,” I said. “What's it called?”

“
Don't Tell Anyone
,” Sherman said again.

I raised my right hand in the air. “I promise I won't tell. What's your movie called?”

“
Don't Tell Anyone
,” Sherman repeated.

“Okay, forget it,” I muttered. “
Don't
tell me what it's called. I don't care. What makes you think you can do a movie that's as good as mine?”

He snickered again. “Maybe because of this little contraption my parents bought for me,” he said.

I stared at the equipment Wes was setting up for him.

“It's a digital video camera with 3-D sound,” Sherman said. “It has high-def 1080 resolution with freeze-frame and instant replay. And check out the built-in tape editor, sound mixer, drum machine, projector, DVD player, keyboard, and sandwich maker.”

I made a loud gulping sound. I couldn't help it. “Not bad,” I muttered. “If that's the best you can do.”

“Let me show you how it works,” Sherman said. He pushed a lot of buttons, moved a mouse around, clicked a lot of dials—and handed me a ham and Swiss sandwich.

“Pretty good,” I said. “But you forgot the mustard.”

Sherman studied his machine. “Weird. I
asked
for mustard.”

I shook my head. “Nice equipment, Sherman,” I said. “But I can make a better movie with my cell phone.”

“Good luck, Bernie,” he said. “Here come the kids who want to try out for
my
movie.”

I turned and saw a long line of kids running toward us. April-May was at the front of the line, followed by…followed by…

My best buddies in the whole world? Trying out for Sherman's movie??

I shouted. “What's up with you two? What are you
doing
here?”

Crench flashed me a grin. “Yo, Big B,” he said. “We heard everyone in Sherman's movie gets free sandwiches!”

That night, I paced back and forth in my room, thinking, thinking hard. I smelled rubber burning, but I knew it was just the Bernie B. brain, sizzling away.

Did I have any movie ideas?

Not exactly.

Earlier that night, we snuck into Joe Sweety's room and tried to turn him into a mummy. But that ended badly, with me being strangled by Joe for about twenty minutes.

Now I needed a
new
idea. Something a little less painful.

“Yo, Big B!” Belzer called. He came bouncing into my room, carrying about 800 pounds of brown hair in his arms.

“You got a haircut?” I said.

He shook his head. “No. It's a costume—see?” He held it up.

“Is that your Halloween costume?” I asked. “You're going as a smelly pile of hair?”

He shook his head again. “No. It's a gorilla costume. I thought we could use it for a scary movie. You know. Like
King Kong IV
or something.”

“Belzer, where'd you get it?” I asked.

“My mother sent it to me,” he said. “She thought it was pajamas.”

I gagged and held my nose. “Belzer, get it out of here!” I cried. “It…it smells worse than Beast!”

He turned and slumped away, leaving a trail of gross gorilla hair on the floor.

I held my nose for about ten minutes, till the smell started to fade. Then I had an idea.

I hurried downstairs to Billy the Brain's room.

I told you—Billy is the biggest brainiac at Rotten School. I knew he'd have a
million
great movie ideas.

“Yo, Brain, what's up?” I called, stepping into his room.

He was leaning over a big glass case, a camcorder pressed to his face. I stepped up beside him. “What is this?” I asked.

“An ant farm,” he said. “I filled it with about a thousand ants.”

“Cool,” I said. “And you're studying them for Mr. Boring's science class?”

“No,” he said. “I'm making a horror video. Check it out. If I use my telescopic lens and go in really close, I can make the ants look like giants!”

“Excellent!” I said. I
told
you the dude is a genius. “What's your movie called?”

“
Giant Monster Ants Up Close
,” Billy said. “But I've got one major problem.”

“Problem?” I asked.

“Yeah. I can't find any ants in here,” Billy said. “It's weird how they all disappeared.”

I gazed at the glass case. “It's not
too
weird,” I said. “You left the lid off.”

Billy stared at the empty case. “Oh, well,” he said, “I'll just change the name of the movie. I'll call
it
ESCAPE of the Giant Monster Ants
.”

They don't call him Billy the
Brain
for nothing!

I saw ants crawling all over the floor, swarming over his desk and dresser, onto his bed, under his pillow…crawling up the back of his shirt.

I started to itch all over. I had to leave.

I stepped out into the hall—and a huge, snarling creature leaped on me—and sank its hot, wet fangs into my throat.