Please Do Not Feed the Weirdo Read online

  Contents

  TITLE PAGE

  SLAPPY HERE, EVERYONE.

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  SLAPPY HERE, EVERYONE.

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  SLAPPY HERE, EVERYONE. . .

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  SNEAK PEEK!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ALSO AVAILABLE

  COPYRIGHT

  Welcome to SlappyWorld.

  Yes, it’s Slappy’s world—You’re only screaming in it! Hahaha.

  Readers Beware: Don’t call me a dummy, Dummy. I’m so smart, I can spell IQ forward and backward! Ha. I’m so bright, I use my own head as a night-light!

  I’m handsome, too. I’m so good-looking, when I look in a mirror, the mirror says, “Thank you!”

  Hahaha.

  I’m so handsome, I win an award just for waking up in the morning! Haha!

  (I know that doesn’t make any sense. But, hey, slave, who’s going to be brave enough to tell me that?)

  I’m generous, too. I like to share. I like to share scary stories to make you scream and shake all over. I don’t want to give you a nightmare, slave. I want your whole life to be a nightmare! Hahahaha!

  Here’s a story that’s a real scream. It’s about a brother and sister named Jordan and Karla. They have a lot of fun at a carnival—until an ugly monster decides to have fun with them!

  You’re not afraid of ugly monsters—are you? Then go ahead. Start the story. I call it Please Do Not Feed the Weirdo.

  It’s just one more tale from SlappyWorld!

  I took a big bite of the fluffy blue candy. I could feel the powdery sugar stick to my face.

  Karla pointed to the cone in my hand. “Jordan, you have a spider in your cotton candy,” she said.

  I let out a loud “ULLLLLLP!” and the cone went flying into the air. I watched it land with a soft plop onto the pavement.

  Karla tossed back her head and laughed. “You’re too easy!”

  Mom shook her head. “Karla, why are you always scaring your brother?”

  She grinned. “Because it’s fun?”

  Grumbling to myself, I bent down and picked the cotton candy off the ground. Some of the blue stuff stuck to my sneakers. I took another bite anyway.

  Some kids like to be scared and some don’t. And I totally don’t. I saw the Tunnel of Fear up ahead, and I knew Karla would force me to go in there with her.

  My name is Jordan Keppler, and I’m twelve, a year older than Karla. I don’t like to brag, but … I get better grades than Karla, and I’m better at sports than Karla, and I have more friends than Karla does.

  So just because she likes scary things doesn’t make her any kind of big deal.

  I looked all around. Carnival World was crowded because it was a beautiful spring night. I saw dozens of kids on the boardwalk, going from the game booths to the rides. And I knew a lot of them were walking right past the Tunnel of Fear because they were like me.

  What’s the fun of screaming your head off, anyway?

  I tossed my cotton candy cone in a trash can. “Where’s that ride with the swings that go really high?” I asked.

  “You mean that baby ride in the kiddie park?” Karla said.

  Dad leaned over and took a big bite of Karla’s cotton candy. “If you two want to go into the Tunnel of Fear, Mom and I will wait here,” he said.

  “No thanks,” I said. “I’ll wait out here, too.”

  Karla pressed her hands against her waist and tossed back her curly red hair. “Well, I’m not going in alone, Jerkface.”

  “Don’t call your brother names,” Mom said.

  “I didn’t,” Karla replied. “That is his name.” She thinks she’s so smart and funny.

  “Don’t make your sister go in there alone,” Dad said. He put his hands on my shoulders. “Jordan, you’re not scared, are you?”

  He knew I was scared. Why bother to ask?

  “Of course I’m not scared,” I said. “It’s just that … I ate all that cotton candy. I have to sit down and digest it.”

  I know. I know. That was lame. You don’t have to tell me.

  Karla grabbed my hand and tugged me hard toward the entrance. “Come on, Jordan. We don’t come to the carnival very often. We have to do everything.”

  I turned back to Mom and Dad. They were both making shooing motions with their hands. They were no help at all.

  Don’t get me wrong. I love Carnival World. I love the dart games and the corn dogs on a stick and the Ferris wheel and the Dunk-the-Clown water tank.

  There are only two things I don’t love. The rollercoaster rides that make you go upside down. And the Tunnel of Fear. And somehow—thanks to my sister—I knew I had both of those in my near future.

  Karla and I walked up the wooden ramp to the tunnel entrance. “See you later!” I heard Mom shout. “If you survive!”

  Ha. She and Karla have the same sick sense of humor.

  Purple and red lights flashed all around us, and I heard deep, evil laughter—horror-movie laughter—echoing inside the tunnel. And screams. Lots of shrill screams. I couldn’t tell if they were recorded or if they were from real people inside the ride.

  Karla gave the young guy at the entrance two tickets, and he motioned us to the open cars. They were moving slowly along a track toward the dark cave opening where the ride began.

  She pushed me into a car and slid in beside me. “This is so cool,” she gushed. “We should have brought a barf bag for you.”

  Ha again.

  “It’s all fake,” I said. “It’s all babyish scares. Too phony to be scary. Seriously.”

  Wish I had been right about that.

  As we rolled into total blackness, the door on our moving car slammed shut. A safety bar dropped down over our legs.

  The car spun quickly, then slid along an invisible track beneath us. I gripped the safety bar with both hands. My eyes squinted into the darkness. I couldn’t see a thing—

  —Until a grinning skull shot down from above. It stopped an inch from my face, and its jagged, broken teeth snapped up and down as shrill laughter floated out.

  I gasped. I didn’t scream. I gripped the safety bar a little tighter.

  Something damp and sticky brushed my face. I raised both hands to swipe at it, to try to push it off me.

  Beside me, Karla laughed. “Yucky cobwebs,” she said. She poked me. “And you know if there are cobwebs, there has to be …”

  She didn’t need to say it. At least a dozen rubbery, fat black spiders bounced over the car. I tried to brush them off my face, but there were too many of them.

  The car spun again, and I stared into a wall of darkness. Were there other people in the tunnel? I couldn’t see them and I couldn’t hear them.

  Karla screamed as a huge, caped vampire jumped into our car. “I want to drink your bloooood!” it exclaimed. The vampire lowered its fangs to Karla’s neck—but then disappeared.

  Karla shuddered. She grabbed my sleeve. “That was creepy.”

  “It’s all computer graphics,” I said. I was trying to be the brave one. But to be honest, my stomach was doing cartwheels and my throat was suddenly as dry as the cotton candy.
>
  Then evil cackling surrounded our car, and we jolted to a stop. I rocked against the safety bar, then bounced back.

  The cackling stopped.

  Silence.

  I heard a high-pitched scream. A girl’s scream that echoed off the tunnel walls.

  We sat in solid darkness. My heart started to pound.

  “Think there’s something wrong?” I whispered. My hands were suddenly cold and sweaty on the safety bar.

  “We definitely stalled,” Karla said. “Unless maybe this is all part of the ride. You know. An extra-thrill part.” Typical Karla. Now she didn’t sound scared at all.

  My heart was pounding. “It’ll probably start back up, right?”

  “For sure,” she said.

  So we waited. Waited and listened. Listened to the heavy silence.

  No voices or music or sounds from the carnival on the other side of the walls. The only thing I could hear was the throb of blood pulsing in my ears.

  We waited some more.

  “Cold in here,” Karla murmured. “Like a tomb.” She hugged herself.

  “You don’t think that girl’s scream was a real scream—do you?” I whispered. My skin prickled.

  “Why doesn’t the ride start up again?” Karla whispered back, ignoring my question.

  “Why are we whispering?” I asked.

  Even our whispers echoed in the black tunnel.

  I spread my hand over my chest. I could feel my fluttering heartbeat. I had tried to be brave. But … I knew I was about to lose it.

  I could feel a scream forming in my throat. Feel all my muscles tighten. Feel the panic creeping up from my stomach.

  How long had we been waiting in the cold, silent darkness? Ten minutes? Fifteen? More?

  I gripped the safety bar so hard my hands ached. “Hey!” I shouted. “Is anyone else in here? Can anyone hear me? Hey!”

  No answer. No one.

  “I think we’re the only car in here,” Karla said. “Creepy, huh?”

  “Can anyone hear me?” I shouted again, my voice high and shrill. “Who is in here with us? Anyone here?”

  Silence.

  “Hey! We need help—”

  I couldn’t finish my cry. Fingers wrapped around my neck from behind. Cold, bone-hard fingers … tightening … tightening. I tried to scream. But the fingers were so tight, I couldn’t make a sound!

  I twisted my head free and spun around in the car.

  A grinning skeleton stared at me with its empty black eye sockets, an inch from my face. Its jaw squeaked up and down—and it flew up to the darkness of the ceiling.

  The icy touch of its fingers still stung my skin. I was gasping for breath now.

  Karla pushed my shoulder. “What is your problem? Are you having a panic attack?”

  “Didn’t you see that skeleton?” I cried hoarsely. “It … it squeezed my neck.” I raised a hand and tried to rub the cold feeling away.

  Karla laughed. “You idiot. That was part of the ride.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “Do you notice we still aren’t moving? And none of the sound effects have started up again?”

  “Then how would you explain it?” she demanded. “You think there’s a living skeleton loose in the tunnel?”

  “Please don’t say that,” I said.

  She slumped back in the seat. I kept twisting around. I didn’t want anyone to sneak up on me again.

  “Doesn’t anyone work in here?” I asked, my voice trembling.

  We both waited some more. The air seemed to grow colder. I clamped my mouth shut when I realized my teeth were chattering.

  After a few more minutes, Karla and I both started shouting.

  “Can anyone hear us?”

  “Get us out of here!”

  “Hey—anyone?!”

  “Hellllllp!”

  Silence. I settled back with a long sigh.

  Karla grabbed the safety bar and began to shake it. After a few tries, it popped open and slid off our legs. She started to stand up.

  “What are you doing?” I cried.

  “We have to get out of the car and walk to the exit,” she said. She lowered one foot over the side.

  I grabbed her and pulled her back. “No. Wait. It’s … it’s too dark.”

  She twisted herself free. “We can’t just sit here shouting,” she said. “Mom and Dad are probably worried.”

  “I’m worried, too,” I said, my eyes darting all around. “Where’s the exit? I don’t see it.”

  “We’ll use the light on our cell phones to follow the tracks,” Karla said. “You know. The tracks have to lead us out.”

  She lowered her feet to the ground. Then she turned and tugged my arm. “Come on, Chickenface. Follow me.”

  “Don’t call names,” I said.

  “I didn’t.”

  I stayed in the seat. I didn’t want to step out of the car. I guess I felt safer sitting there. But I finally forced my legs to move and climbed down beside Karla.

  She began walking along the car track. I kept glancing back, making sure nothing was sneaking up on us. It was blacker than night in the tunnel. I honestly couldn’t tell if my eyes were open or closed. I put the light on from my cell phone, but it wasn’t that helpful.

  “Hey, wait up!” I called, my voice choked, muffled in the cold air. I squinted hard. I couldn’t see Karla. “Wait up. I’m serious. You’re walking too fast.”

  “I’m right here,” she called from somewhere up ahead.

  And then I stumbled. I tripped over something and fell forward.

  I landed on something soft. Pain shot up my knees. I squinted into the darkness to see what I had tripped over.

  “Oh nooo,” I gasped.

  It was a boy. A dead boy.

  I scrambled to climb off him. My hand slipped on his head. His hard, wooden head.

  Wait. Whoa. Not a boy. Some kind of dummy. A mannequin. Dressed in boy’s clothes.

  Squinting over the floor, I saw another boy mannequin. Two girl mannequins. All facedown, sprawled on the tunnel floor.

  Just another scary part of the ride?

  I let go of the mannequin head and pushed myself up. I’d landed hard on my right knee. I rubbed it, trying to soothe the pain away.

  I stepped closer to the track and began to follow it through the darkness. I kept my eyes down. I didn’t want to trip over any more mannequins.

  I stopped with a gasp when I heard laughter. Cold, cruel laughter. Evil laughter in a deep woman’s voice.

  “Hey!” I called out. “Who’s there? Is someone there?”

  The creepy laughter echoed off the tunnel walls till it seemed to come from all directions.

  “Karla? Is that you?” My voice came out high and shrill. “Karla?” Was she hiding or something? Playing a mean trick on me?

  “Hey, Karla. Shout, okay? So I can find you? Karla?”

  The cold woman’s laughter seemed to come from right behind me. I spun around. Nothing but darkness.

  “Karla? Come on. Are you trying to scare me? Stop it!” I shouted. “This isn’t funny. Karla—where are you?”

  I spun all around. I saw only a blur of black.

  A loud clank made me jump. I heard an electric hum. Another clank. The cars started moving again, slowly, creaking into motion.

  “Karla? Hey, Karla?” I shouted over the hum and squeak of the cars.

  The woman’s cold laughter rang in my ears.

  I gazed around again. No Karla. No Karla.

  I started toward one of the slow-moving cars. And once again, an icy hand gripped the back of my neck.

  I gasped—and twisted my head around. And stared at Karla, who held me by the neck. “It’s me, Jordan,” she said. “I’m right here. What’s all the shouting about?”

  I jerked her hand off me. “You’re not funny!” I screamed. “You did that deliberately. Why didn’t you answer me? Just to scare me?”

  She snickered. “Maybe.”

  “And why is your hand so
cold?” I cried.

  She shivered. “It’s cold in here. Let’s get out of this place.” She ran to the car, grabbed the side, and leaped inside it.

  I chased it along the track, pulled myself up, and slid beside her. My heart was still pounding from thinking that I’d lost her. Karla definitely has a mean streak. I honestly don’t understand why she enjoys scaring me so much.

  The car clattered and squeaked and led us out of the tunnel. I’ve never been so happy to feel the fresh air! I know I had a big grin on my face as I climbed out of the car.

  I blinked hard, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the moonlight. As soon as I could focus, I scanned the carnival grounds, searching for our parents.

  “Where are they?” Karla said. “They told us they’d wait for us.”

  “I think we came out a different door,” I said. “Look. We’re at the back of the Tunnel of Fear, not the front.”

  Two kids walked by carrying tall, soft ice cream cones. The cones were a mile high and covered in chocolate sprinkles.

  Normally, I’d be drooling for one of those. But my stomach made a growling protest. My whole body was still tied in knots from our terrifying time on the ride.

  I could still hear the woman’s laughter from inside the tunnel. The sound sent a chill down my back. “Watch out!” a voice called. I jumped back as a man pushing a popcorn cart nearly crashed into me.

  “We have to find Mom and Dad,” I said. I pointed to a narrow walk at the side of the building. “We can get to the front of the Tunnel of Fear through there, I think.”

  We had gone only a few steps when I heard a man shouting, “Stop! Hey, you two—stop right there!”

  I turned and saw a tall, long-haired man in denim overalls and a plaid lumberjack shirt running toward us. He waved something in his hand as he called to us. His dark hair bobbed behind his head as he ran. Large blue sunglasses covered most of his face.

  He stopped in front of us and paused to catch his breath. He had a silver ring in one ear and a tiny silver stud in one nostril. He brushed back his long hair with one hand.

  “I saw you come out of the tunnel,” he said, motioning to the back of the building.

  I stared at him, trying to see his eyes behind the big blue glasses. What did he want?

  “Yeah, it was kind of messed up in there,” Karla said.