Slappy Beware! (Goosebumps Special Edition) Read online

  “So I want a ventriloquist dummy for Christmas!” Poppy shouted. “I want a dummy of my own.”

  And that’s when all the scary stuff started.

  “Poppy, you’re copying me again,” Reggie said.

  “I am not!” she cried. “I really want a dummy I can perform with. Maybe I’ll do kids’ birthday parties with it, and parents will pay me to entertain.” She scowled at him and narrowed her eyes to slits. “Why should you always get all the attention?”

  “You shouldn’t be jealous of Reggie,” their mother said. “He found something he really enjoys, and he’s good at it.”

  Poppy shook her head. “I’m not jealous. I just want a dummy. They sell them at Sackler’s toy store. You know. That store we went to after the Buccaneers game? Across from the football stadium?” She crossed her arms again. “What’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal is,” Reggie said, “that you’re copying me again. Why can’t you do your own thing?”

  “Why don’t you shut up?” Poppy snapped. “You’re just afraid I’ll be better at it than you!”

  “Stop it, you two!” Mr. Foreman said. “I’ll buy you a dummy, Poppy. But you two can’t be fighting about it all the time.”

  “And you can’t be competing over them,” their mom added.

  “We’re not fighting,” Reggie said. He turned to his sister. “Okay, if you get a dummy, I’ll help you with it. I’ll show you how to throw your voice and work his eyes and mouth. And I’ll help you with your jokes and stuff.”

  “That’s nice of you, Reggie,” their dad said.

  “Your brother always tries to help you,” Mrs. Foreman said. “He helped you with the banjo, too. And with your skateboard, although you gave that up, too.”

  “But I don’t need his help,” Poppy insisted. She turned to her dad. “The dummy is called Mister Wood. I saw boxes and boxes of Mister Wood dummies at Sackler’s. That’s the one I want.”

  Mr. Foreman lifted the dinner napkin off his lap and dropped it onto the table. He smiled. “Well, Poppy. Maybe Santa will bring it to you.”

  And that was that.

  * * *

  It won’t be long now, readers. Mister Wood will be appearing soon. And—trust me—the Foreman household will never be the same.

  It was Christmas morning in Tampa. The sun was already high in the sky, and the air was summer warm. From his window Reggie saw a few seagulls soaring above the trees.

  Poppy and his mom and dad were already downstairs. His parents were sitting in front of the unlit fireplace in their robes with large coffee mugs in their hands. Poppy was still in her My Little Pony pajamas, which Grandma Florence had bought her.

  The family didn’t have a Christmas tree this year. Instead, the brightly wrapped presents were scattered on the floor in front of the mantel.

  “Hey, good morning,” Reggie said, still wiping the sleep from his eyes. “I think I see my present.”

  It was easy to spot because it wasn’t wrapped. Reggie hurried across the room and lifted it in both hands. “That’s it!” he said. “The exact boogie board I had my eyes on!”

  Reggie rubbed the slick, shiny surface. It was a forty-two-inch bodyboard, magenta with blue waves rolling across it. He had studied bodyboards online for weeks, and this was his first choice.

  “I can’t believe you found this one!” he said. He hugged his mom, then his dad, causing them to almost spill their coffee.

  Poppy jumped up from the couch and took the board from Reggie’s hands. The board was nearly as tall as she was. “I could ride this,” she told Reggie. “Can I go with you when you go to the beach?”

  “I just got it, and you already want it,” Reggie grumbled.

  “No. I just want to try it,” Poppy replied. “I’m a better swimmer than you. I’ll be awesome with this.”

  “Who taught you how to swim?” Reggie demanded. “I did! Remember? You were afraid to let go of the side of the pool. And I showed you—”

  “Stop, you two,” their dad said, rubbing his forehead. “It’s too early in the morning for this.”

  “Poppy, don’t you want to open your big present?” Mrs. Foreman asked.

  Poppy stepped over to the large box leaning against the wall. It was wrapped in sparkly, silver-and-red paper, with a silvery bow tied to the front. “This is it, right?” she said.

  She didn’t wait for an answer. She pulled off the bow and tossed it on the floor. Then she began ripping the paper off. When the wrapping was half off, she could see the big yellow words on the box: MEET MISTER WOOD.

  “You got it! You got it for me!” Poppy cried, jumping up and down. She frantically clawed the rest of the wrapping paper away and held the large box in both hands.

  She tried to pry open the top, but it was taped shut.

  “Read the box first,” her dad said. “What does it say?”

  Poppy raised the front of the box and read out loud: “MEET MISTER WOOD. He’s your funny friend. Learn to throw your voice and become a ventriloquist. Amaze your audience! Mister Wood makes it EASY and FUN!”

  “Remember, I can help you with him, if you want,” Reggie said. “I’ll show you some tricks for working the eyes and the mouth.”

  “No, I want to do it myself,” Poppy said. She held the box up to her dad. “Can you help me get the lid open? It’s taped.”

  Mr. Foreman strode to the kitchen and returned a few seconds later with a pair of scissors. He cut the tape, and Poppy pulled the dummy from the box.

  Reggie laughed. “He’s ugly! He’s not cute like Junior.”

  “I think he’s cute,” Poppy insisted.

  The dummy had black hair painted on its wooden head. Large dark eyes. A wide grin with red lips. Poppy straightened its red bow tie. “Hi, Mister Wood,” she said. “I think you’re very cute!”

  She held him up for her parents. “Isn’t he awesome?”

  “We’re glad you like him,” her mom said.

  Reggie laughed again. “He’s weird-looking. And everyone will have that same dummy. The toy stores sell boxes and boxes of Mister Woods. At least Junior is one of a kind.”

  Poppy stuck her tongue out at him. “Who cares?” she snapped. “Mister Wood and I are going to be best friends. I’m going to think up some awesome jokes for him. And I’m going to be a great ventriloquist.”

  Reggie raised both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I just wanted to help.” He was starting to get fed up with his sister. Time after time, he tried to be nice to her. But … why bother? She was only mean back.

  Poppy turned and walked up the stairs to her room. She sat Mister Wood down in the chair beside her bed. Then she crossed the room to her closet to change out of her pajamas.

  She didn’t see the dummy blink his eyes and turn his head from side to side.

  If she had, she might have been scared.

  Reggie and his family had Christmas dinner at their Aunt Halley’s house. Poppy insisted on bringing Mister Wood.

  Reggie didn’t know exactly how old Aunt Halley was. But he knew she was pretty old. She dyed her hair bright red, and she wore red dresses and always had a red scarf around her neck, which she tied and untied while she talked.

  She was always chattering away, pinching the kids’ cheeks, teasing them, asking a dozen questions and not even waiting for the answers. She never sat still for more than two minutes.

  Aunt Halley greeted them at her front door and shoved cups of hot cider into their hands before they even had their coats off. “This is my favorite holiday,” she said, “because it matches my house.”

  Just about everything in Aunt Halley’s house was red and green. The walls were red with green trim. The living room couches were green, and the coffee table was red.

  “It’s like you live in a Christmas ornament!” Reggie declared.

  Everyone laughed. Halley pinched Reggie’s cheek, leaving a red mark.

  She turned to Poppy, who was clutching Mister Wood. “Did you get that doll for Christmas?
Aren’t you getting a little old for dolls?”

  “It’s not a doll,” Poppy told her. “It’s a ventriloquist dummy. His name is Mister Wood, and I’m going to do an act with him and make money at birthday parties.”

  Aunt Halley shook the dummy’s wooden hand up and down. “Nice to meet you, Mister Wood.”

  “Touch me again and I’ll spit!” Mister Wood cried.

  Aunt Halley gasped. “Poppy, why do you have to make Mister Wood so rude? Is that your idea of comedy?”

  Poppy’s mouth dropped open. “I—I didn’t say that, Aunt Halley. The dummy said it. I swear. It wasn’t me!”

  “Poppy—say you’re sorry,” her mom said.

  “But …” Poppy stared at the dummy. “I’m telling the truth. I didn’t say it.” She turned to Reggie. Her expression changed. She pointed a finger at him. “Oh. I get it. You made him say that. You threw your voice to trick us.”

  Reggie raised both hands and backed away. “Don’t look at me. It wasn’t me. We all know it had to be you, Poppy.”

  “That dummy has an odd grin,” Aunt Halley said. “Very disturbing.”

  “Your face is disturbing ME!” Mister Wood said in a high, shrill voice.

  “Stop it, Poppy!” Mr. Foreman snapped. “I’m serious. Just because you have a dummy doesn’t give you an excuse to insult your aunt.”

  “But—but—” Poppy sputtered. “I—I didn’t! I—”

  Reggie laughed. “I saw you move your lips. You’re not a very good ventriloquist yet.”

  “Listen to me. I didn’t say those things,” Poppy cried.

  Aunt Halley studied the dummy. “He’s kind of ugly,” she said.

  “You should know!” Mister Wood snickered.

  “Enough!” Poppy’s dad said.

  “I … I have to put him down,” Poppy said. Her voice trembled. “There’s something weird going on here.”

  Mrs. Foreman put her hands on Reggie’s shoulders and turned him around to face her. “Tell me the truth. Are you the one saying those awful things?”

  “No way,” Reggie said. “Really, Mom.” He made a zipping motion over his mouth with one hand. “My lips have been sealed.”

  Poppy crossed the room and sat the dummy on a low stool against the wall. “Weird,” she muttered. “This is so totally weird.”

  Aunt Halley passed around a large tray of cheese and crackers. “Where did you get that dummy?” she asked.

  “At Sackler’s,” Mr. Foreman replied. “They had a big stack of Mister Wood dolls. The guy told me they sold twenty of them this Christmas.”

  Aunt Halley laughed. “I hope they’re not all as rude as this one.” She disappeared into the kitchen to check on dinner.

  Poppy sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the dummy.

  Reggie felt confused. Why did Poppy make the dummy say those things to Aunt Halley? he wondered. Was she trying to get me in trouble? Everyone knows I’m good at throwing my voice. Did Poppy think I’d get blamed?

  Reggie wanted to talk to his sister. But Aunt Halley had returned from the kitchen and was asking them questions about what they were doing in school, and what they got for Christmas, and what their New Year’s resolutions were.

  When they sat down at the dining room table, Poppy was way at the far end, so Reggie couldn’t talk to her then, either. But his mind spun with questions.

  Why did Poppy insist the dummy was talking on his own? No one would ever believe that. What was she trying to do?

  “Mmmmmm. The food smells so good!” Mr. Foreman exclaimed.

  From the living room came a raspy voice. “Smells like something I stepped in!”

  “It’s late,” Mr. Foreman said as the family walked into their house through the kitchen. “I think it’s after eleven.”

  “It’s hard to leave Halley’s,” Mrs. Foreman said. “We spent half an hour just saying good-bye.”

  “My ribs are sore from all her hugs,” Reggie murmured.

  Poppy yawned. She carried Mister Wood over her shoulder.

  “Great dinner,” their dad said. “Halley is a great cook.” He turned to Poppy. “So what’s up with this dummy? Why did you make him say those insulting things? That’s not like you, Poppy.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she replied. She yawned again. “I’m going to bed.”

  Mr. Foreman stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “You have no explanation?”

  “No. I don’t,” Poppy muttered. “Ask Mister Wood.” She sighed. “I told you I didn’t say those things. But you don’t want to believe me.”

  “Of course we don’t believe you. I don’t like this attitude,” he said. “What you did wasn’t funny, and you know it.”

  Poppy sighed again. “It had to be Reggie throwing his voice. You know he’s been practicing that for months.”

  “No way!” Reggie shouted. “No way I would do that. Take that back, Poppy. You’re wrong. You’re totally wrong!”

  She rolled her eyes. “Okay. I hear you. Can I go to bed now?”

  She stomped into the living room. The dummy bounced on her shoulder as she started up the stairs.

  “Goodnight, everyone,” a shrill voice called.

  “I didn’t say that!” Poppy cried. “This is too weird.” She returned to the living room and tossed the dummy onto the couch. “He can stay here tonight. He’s creeping me out.”

  “No. No way. Take him upstairs and put him in your closet,” Mr. Foreman insisted. “Your joking isn’t funny.”

  “I’m not joking,” she replied. But she grabbed Mister Wood and carried him upstairs.

  Mr. Foreman turned to Reggie. “What’s up with your sister?”

  Reggie shrugged. “Beats me. She’s really getting on my nerves.”

  “Why don’t you talk to her tomorrow?” Mrs. Foreman said. “Find out why she keeps saying rude things and blaming it on you and that dummy. It’s just so strange.”

  Reggie snickered. “Yeah. Poppy is strange.”

  “Well, this was still a great Christmas,” Reggie’s mom said to him. “Come here. Let me give you a Christmas hug.”

  “Oh no!” Reggie backed away. “No more hugs, Mom. Aunt Halley squeezed me like an accordion all day! I think I have at least two broken bones!”

  His parents laughed. Mrs. Foreman gave him a push toward the stairs. “Okay, fine. No hug. Go to bed.”

  Reggie made his way up to his room. He changed into his pajamas and sat down on the edge of his bed. He thought about Poppy and her dummy.

  Why is she trying to convince us the dummy is alive? She can’t really believe it. Is it just a joke she’s playing on us? Poppy is acting really strange—even for Poppy.

  He didn’t feel sleepy. He pulled out his phone and called Diego. Diego answered on the third ring. “Did I wake you up?” Reggie asked.

  “No,” Diego replied in a whisper. “I’m supposed to be asleep, but I’m playing Minecraft.”

  Diego was obsessed with Minecraft. He constructed entire towns. Last week, he showed Reggie an amazing rollercoaster he had built.

  “What did you get for Christmas?” Reggie asked.

  “A bunch of clothes,” Diego said. “My parents couldn’t get the new PlayStation, so they got me clothes instead.”

  Reggie told him about his new boogie board and some other gifts he got. Then he said, “And guess what my parents gave Poppy? A Mister Wood dummy.”

  “Whaaaat?” Diego replied in surprise. “I didn’t know she liked dummies.”

  “Tell me about it,” Reggie said. “You know Poppy. She’s a total copycat. So she had to have a dummy of her own because I have one. And, believe it or not, she’s trying to tell us that her dummy is alive!”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah,” Reggie said. “She keeps saying the dummy is talking on his own.”

  Diego snorted. “Your sister is weird. Know what would be a riot, though?” he asked. “Why don’t you make her believe her dummy is alive? For real.”

&nbsp
; Reggie moved the phone to his other ear. “I don’t get it.”

  “Freak her out. Move the dummy to a different room. Make her think he can walk around. Pretend you actually believe that he talks on his own. Pretend you’re scared of him, too.”

  Reggie laughed. “Diego, that’s so mean! I would never think of anything like that.”

  Diego laughed, too. “Poppy deserves it—right?”

  “I guess,” Reggie replied. “I don’t know. I don’t like to scare my little sister. But … maybe it would teach her a lesson.”

  He said good-bye to Diego and shut off his phone.

  Reggie thought about his friend’s idea.

  Maybe it isn’t too mean. Maybe it’ll be funny.

  I think I’ll try Diego’s little joke right now, he decided.

  Reggie walked to his bedroom door. He glanced at Junior, his dummy, grinning at him from his perch on a bookshelf. The dummy had tilted to one side. Reggie straightened him up.

  Then Reggie made his way quietly down the hall to his sister’s room. He peered in through the open door. The lights were off. Pale yellow light washed in from a streetlight at the bottom of the front yard.

  He waited in the doorway for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. Poppy was asleep in her bed with the covers pulled up to her chin. The Mister Wood dummy lay facedown at the foot of the bed.

  Reggie held his breath. Walking on tiptoes, he crept over the carpet and carefully, silently, lifted Mister Wood off the bed. Carrying the dummy in front of him, he tiptoed back out into the hall.

  He glanced back into the room. Poppy hadn’t moved.

  Where should I hide him? Reggie asked himself. He stopped in front of the linen closet. Should he stuff the dummy in with the sheets and blankets?

  No. Poppy would know right away that Reggie had done it.

  Reggie moved on to the guest room. Perfect, he thought. He turned on the light and carried the dummy to the bed. He sat Mister Wood on the quilt and leaned him against the pillows. He crossed the dummy’s arms in front of him.

  Awesome. He looks totally comfortable.

  Reggie closed the guest room door. He pictured the puzzled look on Poppy’s face when she woke up the next morning and saw that Mister Wood wasn’t there.