Night of the Puppet People Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Welcome. You are Most Wanted.

  Prologue: Seven Years Ago

  1

  2

  3

  Part One: Seven Years Later

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  Part Two: One Week Later

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  Preview: Goosebumps® Most Wanted #9: Here Comes the Shaggedy

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  Come in. I’m R.L. Stine. Welcome to the Goosebumps office.

  Sorry about the smell. I was making my famous Stinkweed Pancakes for breakfast. It’s very hard to find stinkweed that smells good these days. But it’s delicious if you hold your nose when you swallow.

  Care for some breakfast? How about a bowl of cereal? Let’s see … I have Mice Krispies. And here’s a box of Bunny Nut Cheerios. Don’t you love that cereal? The way the furry little pieces of bunny get stuck in your teeth?

  You’re not hungry? How about a slice of this nice green melon? Oh, wait. Sorry. That’s not a melon. It’s the shrunken head I got this week.

  Ha-ha. Look. I took a bite out of it before I realized what it was.

  Whoa. You’re starting to look as green as this shrunken head.

  I see you’re admiring the WANTED posters on the wall. Those posters show the creepiest, crawliest, grossest Goosebumps characters of all time. They are the MOST WANTED CHARACTERS from the MOST WANTED books.

  That poster you are studying has two weird-looking puppets on it. I hate it when puppets look so lifelike — don’t you? They look like real people — Puppet People!

  Ben and Jenny Renfro can tell you a story about these puppets, a story about puppets so frightening, you’ll wonder who is pulling the strings.

  Go ahead. Read their story. Find out why the Puppet People are MOST WANTED.

  “Jenny, don’t fight with your brother. It’s your birthday,” Mrs. Renfro said.

  “But he took the candy bar I wanted!” Jenny cried.

  “Did not!” Ben squeezed the miniature Snickers bar in his fist. He made his mean face at Jenny.

  Mrs. Renfro sighed. She blew a strand of blond hair off her forehead. “Why don’t you two share it? You’re twins. You should share everything.”

  “Ben never shares anything,” Jenny pouted. She made a wild swipe for the candy in her brother’s hand. But he snatched it away from her. “Get your own, Stink Head.”

  “Ben, don’t call names on your birthday. You’re five now. You have to act more like a gentleman.”

  “No, I don’t,” Ben insisted. “I don’t even know what that means.”

  Mrs. Renfro had to laugh. She brushed a hand through Ben’s curly brown hair. Ben was stubborn, but he knew how to make her laugh.

  “Mom, don’t laugh. He isn’t funny,” Jenny said.

  Jenny loved scolding her mother. And she seldom let Ben bully her. Even though they were twins and looked alike, Jenny was already an inch taller than her brother.

  Mrs. Renfro heard a shout and turned to the sound. All around the living room, the five-year-old party guests were smearing chocolate on their cheeks and chins. I guess the little candy bars were a bad idea, Mrs. Renfro thought. I should have bought M&M’s.

  She pushed her way through the room. “What was the shouting about?” she asked.

  Anna Richards, in a frilly pink party dress, pointed to the chubby boy with short black hair at the coffee table. “Jonathan spilled his apple juice,” she reported. “He’s a klutz.”

  Mrs. Renfro squinted at her. “Anna, where did you learn that word?”

  “From Sesame Street.”

  Jonathan Sparrow lived across the street. He and Ben and Jenny had playdates all the time. Now he was staring at a dark, wet spot on the front of his denim overalls.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Renfro said. “It’ll dry.”

  “I spilled on the table, too,” Jonathan said, avoiding her eyes.

  She hurried to the kitchen to get paper towels. On her way back to the living room, the man with the long white beard stopped her. He wore a silky purple robe that came down to the floor. A tall, pointed red cap. And he had a long purple scarf wrapped around his neck.

  “Is it time for the show?” he asked.

  Mrs. Renfro nodded. “Good idea. Before it gets really messy in here!”

  “Five-year-olds love chocolate,” he said, scratching his beard.

  She sighed. “I never should have given it to them.” She waved the paper towels. “First, let me mop up a spill. Then we’ll get started.”

  She hurried back to the living room. She glimpsed Jenny sitting cross-legged on the floor. Jenny had three candy bars in her lap. She always found a way to beat Ben.

  Where was Ben? Wrestling on the rug with a red-haired boy from his kindergarten class.

  “Let’s all sit on the floor! Hurry!” she shouted. “Everyone sit down and face the fireplace. We have a surprise for you.”

  They were excited about the surprise, but it still took ten minutes to get them all seated. “Quiet, everyone!” Mrs. Renfro said. “Be very quiet. You don’t want to miss the fun.”

  Ben and Jenny couldn’t wait to find out what the surprise was. Mrs. Renfro smiled at their eager faces.

  What a great idea it was to have this show, she thought.

  Mrs. Renfro didn’t know the horror was about to begin.

  The man with the full white beard stepped quickly to the front of the room, swirling his long purple robe. “I am Wizzbang the Wizard!” he declared. His shout startled Ben, who bounced on the floor beside his sister.

  “I have some magic to show you!” the wizard shouted. “Does anyone want to see some magic?”

  The kids obediently cried yes.

  Ben squinted at the wizard, who moved rapidly from side to side, his robe swishing over the rug. What was that in his long beard? A black spot that appeared to be moving.

  Was that a spider in his beard?

  Ben shivered. He didn’t like spiders. Once, a spider got into his bed and crawled under his pajama shirt while he was just falling asleep. It didn’t bite him, but Ben felt itchy every time he thought about spiders.

  “Here comes the magic!” Wizzbang exclaimed. “Watch carefully, everyone.”

  Ben forced himself to look away from the black spot in the wizard’s beard. He reached over Jenny and punched Jonathan on the shoulder.

  “Shhh.” Jonathan raised a finger to his lips. “I’m watching.”

  Wizzbang reached a hand into his robe and pulled out a tall marionette. She had a sparkly tiara on her head and was dressed in a long blue ball gown. It took Wizzbang a few seconds to get her strings untangled. They were attached to crisscrossed wooden control sticks. He sorted them out and made her stand up straight.

  “This is the princess!” he announced. He leaned over the puppet. His long beard brushed the top of her tiara. Using both hands on the sticks, he made her take a few steps toward the audience.

  “The princess is not a puppet. She is a marionette. But when Wizzbang the Wizard pulls her strings, she comes alive.”

  Ben stared at the princess as Wizzbang made her do a graceful
dance. “She’s almost as tall as we are,” Jenny said.

  “So what?” Ben replied. Jonathan laughed.

  “Be quiet,” Jenny snapped.

  Ben watched the puppet dip and glide. Her eyes looked like real people eyes. Her lips were painted in a pale red smile. Beneath the tiara, her straight blond hair looked real, too.

  Wizzbang pulled a string and made her raise one hand above her head. Then he moved the string, and her hand bobbed up and down as if she were waving to the kids.

  “The princess has come from far away to wish happy birthday to Ben and Jenny,” the wizard said. He made the marionette walk up to Ben. Her glassy eyes appeared to gaze down at him.

  Ben raised himself to his knees. He took the puppet’s small hand and pretended to shake hands with her.

  Some kids laughed. But not for long.

  The princess dipped suddenly. Her head dropped. Her mouth opened. And her wooden jaw clamped tight over Ben’s shoulder.

  He let out a cry of pain.

  He tried to shake the puppet off. But her jaw tightened even harder, biting into his skin.

  “It HURTS!” Ben screamed at Wizzbang. “Take her OFF me! It hurts. It REALLY hurts!”

  Wizzbang’s mouth dropped open. “I — I — don’t understand,” he stammered.

  He let go of the strings and wrapped both hands around the puppet’s head. After a short struggle, he pulled the puppet off Ben.

  “It … really … hurts …” Ben murmured. He was trying hard not to cry. He didn’t want to cry on his birthday in front of all the kids. He rubbed his shoulder, but the pain kept shooting down his whole body.

  “What happened?” Ben heard his mother ask. She was standing behind the kids, at the doorway to the dining room.

  “The strings must have gotten tangled up,” Wizzbang said. “And the mouth got stuck. Sorry, Ben.” He rubbed Ben’s shoulder. “Not to worry. I have another puppet.”

  He returned a few seconds later with a new puppet. This one had a crown on his head and wore a flashy leopard-skin robe.

  “Say hello to the sultan,” Wizzbang said. “He’s the king.”

  Ben was still rubbing his shoulder. He heard a few kids talking about the puppet that bit him. They sounded scared.

  “Ben, I’m sorry about the princess,” the wizard said. “It was a bad accident. But you’re okay, right?”

  Ben nodded and muttered yes under his breath.

  “These puppets are really fun to operate,” Wizzbang said. “Would anyone like to stand up and work the sultan?”

  No one raised a hand. The room grew very silent.

  “It’s very simple,” Wizzbang said. “You pull the strings. Just like this.” He made the sultan bow. Then he pulled some strings and the puppet’s hands shot up in the air.

  “Who would like to try it?” the wizard asked. “Jenny? You’re the birthday girl. Come up here and meet the sultan.”

  Jenny climbed to her feet slowly. She glanced at Ben, then stepped up to the front of the room.

  “Come closer,” Wizzbang said. “Why are you standing so far away?”

  Jenny frowned at the puppet. “Does he bite?”

  “No. Of course not,” the wizard answered. “Here, Jenny. Take the controls.” He handed her the control sticks.

  “He’s heavy!” Jenny exclaimed.

  “These marionettes are large and very tall,” the wizard said. “And they are made of heavy wood. Go ahead. Make him walk.”

  Jenny balanced the control sticks in her hands. She lowered one set of strings, and the sultan bowed. She made him stand up straight again. Then she made him raise one hand in the air.

  The hand shot straight up — and grabbed Jenny by the nose.

  Jenny let out a startled scream.

  She felt the wooden fingers tighten. Her nose throbbed with pain. And the pain quickly spread over her face and down her neck.

  “Owwwww!” Jenny’s cry rang out through the room. “STOP it!”

  The puppet squeezed hard, squeezed Jenny’s nose till she thought her nose might burst apart!

  Wizzbang appeared to freeze. He stared wide-eyed at the puppet.

  Kids started to cry. Some of them jumped to their feet and backed out of the room.

  The strings fell out of Jenny’s hands and piled on the floor. Jenny squirmed and twisted, trying to get free. She dropped to her knees, wailing in pain.

  Now a lot of kids were crying. Jenny saw her mother rushing toward her, her mouth open in shock, eyes bulging.

  “So sorry. So sorry,” Wizzbang finally found his voice. Behind his white beard, his face was bright red. Jenny saw big drops of sweat rolling down his forehead. “So sorry. So sorry.”

  With a hard tug, he managed to pull the sultan’s fingers off Jenny’s nose. Her nose throbbed with pain.

  “That’s going to leave a nasty bruise,” Jenny’s mom said. She put her arms around Jenny and hugged her tight.

  “So sorry,” the wizard repeated. It was hard to hear him over the shrieks and wails of the crying kids.

  He swept his puppets over his arm, shaking his head, apologizing again and again. “I don’t know what happened. I can’t explain it. I’m so, sooo sorry.”

  Tripping over dangling marionette strings, he stumbled to the front door. He darted out of the house and vanished. He didn’t even bother to shut the door behind him.

  Jenny wiped tears from her eyes. She saw her dad burst into the room, staring at all the crying kids. “What happened?” he asked her mom.

  Mrs. Renfro shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  Ben stepped over to them. His face was very pale and he was shaking, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Those puppets were bad,” he said. “Very bad.”

  Whenever my twin sister, Jenny, and I run into Anna Richards and her BFF, Maria Salinas, we try to be nice. I mean, we’re in sixth grade and we’ve known them since kindergarten. We’d like to be friends with those two — but they’re impossible.

  Take today, for instance. It was three o’clock, and Jenny and I were making our way through the crush of kids leaving Ringler Middle School. Something fell out of my backpack. I dropped down to pick it up, and when I stood up, there were Anna and Maria.

  They always have these sneers on their faces. They’re not smiling. They’re saying: We know something you don’t. Or maybe: We’re so much better than you, it makes us smile like this.

  “Clumsy much?” Anna said to me. Her green eyes flashed, like maybe she had just made a funny joke.

  Maria laughed. She laughs at everything her friend Anna says. Maria is very pretty. She has big, dark eyes and wavy black hair like a waterfall halfway down her back.

  “I like your vest,” Jenny said to Anna. My sister, Jenny, is a very friendly person. I mean, everyone likes Jenny. And she’s always trying to be friendly to Anna and Maria.

  But why bother?

  “You have good taste,” Anna replied, running her hand along one side of the vest. “I don’t think it would look good on you. It would clash with your pimples.”

  “I don’t have pimples,” Jenny protested. “Those are freckles!”

  “Ben, I hear you had a major fail on the algebra test,” Maria said. And there went that smug sneer again.

  “Algebra and I don’t get along,” I murmured. “Mr. Deacon said I could take it again. I know I’ll do better the second time.”

  “Well, you couldn’t do any worse, could you?” Maria said. She laughed a big, cruel laugh.

  Suddenly, Jenny lost it. “Don’t you ever get tired of being mean?” she snapped at Maria.

  Maria didn’t blink. “No,” she replied.

  She and Anna bumped knuckles.

  Like, Aren’t we awesome.

  Anna pulled a sheet of paper from her backpack and held it up to me. “This is what an A on the test looks like.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re too kind.”

  Of course, I knew Anna and Maria got A’s on the test. They get A’s in everything. They are a
lways at the top of the school honor roll. And they win every essay contest and every trophy and every spelling bee and everything that anyone can win.

  They are the best at everything. Just ask them.

  Anna tucked her perfect A test back into her backpack. “Tell me,” she said, “what are you doing for the Sixth-Grade Variety Show? Making rude noises?”

  Maria laughed.

  I shrugged. “Beats me. We don’t know what to do.”

  “There’s a five-hundred-dollar prize,” Maria said. “Anna and I are trying to decide what to do with all that money when we win.”

  “You could donate it to the BRF,” I said.

  Anna sneered at me. “What’s that?”

  “It’s the Ben Renfro Fund. It’s a charity I’m thinking of starting,” I told her.

  “You’re so hilarious,” Anna said without cracking a smile.

  “What are you two doing in the show?” Jenny asked.

  “A puppet skit,” Maria answered, tossing her long hair back over her shoulder.

  “We made these awesome marionettes,” Anna said. “And we’ve been taking puppeteer lessons at the Y. No one there can believe how good we are.”

  I stared at them without replying. I felt a chill roll down my back. It’s a totally weird thing. I’m kind of afraid of puppets. Jenny is, too. We don’t know why.

  Jenny squeezed my arm. I knew she had the same strange feeling. “We might do a rap,” she told them.

  Anna rolled her eyes. “Very original.”

  “Like no one else would think of that,” Maria added.

  I could feel my face turning red. I wasn’t blushing. I was angry. I really couldn’t talk to Anna and Maria for more than five minutes. After that, I wanted to explode — or make them explode!

  Finally, they let us go. Jenny and I walked out of the school building. I took deep breaths of the cool spring air. I always felt like it was hard to breathe around those two girls.

  Jenny shook her head. “They’re like one of those bad teen movies,” she said. “You know. Where the mean girls rule the school.”

  “I sure would love to win that prize money,” I said. “I could use some new video games. If I had five hundred dollars …”

  “Forget about it,” Jenny said. “Anna and Maria always win. It’s a school rule.”