Slime doesnt pay, p.1
Slime Doesn't Pay!, page 1
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SERIES BY R. L. STINE
GOOSEBUMPS
The Original Series
Series 2000
Give Yourself Goosebumps
Give Yourself Goosebumps: Special Edition
Goosebumps HorrorLand
Hall of Horrors
Goosebumps SlappyWorld
THE NIGHTMARE ROOM
The Original Series
The Nightmare Room Thrillogy
MOSTLY GHOSTLY
ROTTEN SCHOOL
FEAR STREET
The Original Series
New Fear Street
Fear Street Super Chiller
Cheerleaders
The Fear Street Saga Trilogy
99 Fear Street: The House of Evil
Cataluna Chronicles
Fear Park
Fear Street Sagas
Fear Street Seniors
Fear Street Nights
Ghosts of Fear Street
SLIME DOESN’T PAY!
R. L. STINE
Copyright © 2023 by Robert Lawrence Stine
E-book published in 2023 by Blackstone Publishing
Cover design and illustrations by Kathryn Galloway English
All rights reserved. This book or any portion
thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner
whatsoever without the express written permission
of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations
in a book review.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious.
Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidentaland not intended by the author.
Trade e-book ISBN 979-8-212-51324-1
Library e-book ISBN 979-8-212-51323-4
Juvenile Fiction / Horror
Blackstone Publishing
31 Mistletoe Rd.
Ashland, OR 97520
www.BlackstonePublishing.com
To Dylan and Mia
CONTENTS
Part I
Prologue
1. Something Hiding in the Closet?
2. Is Arnie Okay?
3. Quills
4. The Monster Is Back
5. Before the Real Horror Begins
6. The Burglar Spoils the Party
7. The Burglar Howls
8. Gone with the Wind
9. The Missing Baby Pictures
10. Splash
11. The Monster Attacks!
12. Licking the Squirrel
13. Attack
14. Should We Be Scared?
15. Call for the Mall Police
16. The Orange Smoothie
17. From under a Rock
18. Monday-Morning Shock
19. The Last Straw
Part II
20. A Good Revenge?
21. Slime Time?
22. The Slimiest Slime
23. Party Time
24. A Wonderful Moment
25. Slime Doesn’t Pay
26. How Can We Get Arnie Back?
27. Garage Surprise
28. Slime Doesn’t Pay Again
29. A Friend to the Rescue
30. Kwame in Danger
31. Tempting the Monster
32. The Truth about Arnie
33. The Happy Ending
Afterword
About the Author
PART ONE
PROLOGUE
I did something horrible to my brother.
I’m not kidding.
I can’t believe I did it.
If I explain it to you, maybe you’ll understand why I did it. Or maybe you won’t.
Once you hear my side of the story, you won’t hate me. You’ll agree with me. I hope you’ll see that I had no choice.
My little brother, Arnie, has always been a pain.
I know, I know. All little brothers are a pain.
But Arnie was worse than a pain. He was a pain and a headache. He was ten pains rolled into one little eight-year-old. But my parents never did anything about it. They said he’d outgrow it. But he was getting worse every day.
You’ve got to believe me. He was making my life impossible.
And then he did something horrible to me. Something unspeakable. Unforgivable.
And that’s why I did what I did.
I admit it. What I did to Arnie wasn’t right. What I did to Arnie changed our lives forever.
But listen to my side of the story. When you hear it, I know you’ll understand.
Maybe, just maybe, you would have done the same terrible thing.
Where shall I start?
I guess I’ll start at the sleepover I had with my friends one Friday night . . .
CHAPTER 1
SOMETHING HIDING IN THE CLOSET?
“Amy, please,” Lissa said, rolling her eyes. “Please don’t tell me you invited Marta to the sleepover tonight.”
“Sorry. Marta is coming,” I said. “I had to invite her.”
“Had to?” Lissa made a spitting noise with her lips. “She’s not even our friend, Amy.”
“She thinks she is,” I said. “And I couldn’t leave her out. There’s a reason.”
Lissa took a long sip from the straw in her juice box. She has yellow-green eyes, and when she gets excited, they glow like headlights. It’s kinda scary.
We were sitting cross-legged on the rug in my bedroom, our backs against my bed. “Marta ruins everything,” Lissa said. “She talks about herself nonstop and how she’s so smart and talented. And she brags about how her family goes to France every summer, and how she won that chess tournament when she was only five, and—”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I said. My juice made a gurgling sound in the straw as I sucked up the last of it. I crushed the box in my hand and tossed it across the room to the wastebasket. Missed.
Lissa tore off the scrunchie holding her ponytail and shook her head, letting her dark hair tumble down to her shoulders. “So what’s the reason?”
I hesitated. Lissa and I have been best friends for three years, since third grade. We get along perfectly. We almost never argue about anything. But she has this habit of getting on my case because she says I’m too nice.
Too nice and too cooperative and I don’t stand up for myself. I let other people tell me what to do.
That’s what she accuses me of, and maybe she’s right. But it’s not like I’m unhappy all the time and feel like people push me around too much. I like being nice. It’s not exactly a crime.
Lissa tugged at a strand in the shag rug. “So? The reason?”
“My mom made me invite Marta,” I said. “Mom is trying to get a job with Marta’s dad, and—”
“I get it,” Lissa said. “So we have to be super nice to Marta.”
“It’s serious,” I said. “Mom and Dad have been out of work for months. Mom says if they can’t find jobs, they’ll have to sell this house and move to another town that’s cheaper.”
Lissa’s eyes flashed wide again. “Oh no. That would be horrible.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I know.”
“How would you do my algebra homework for me?” Lissa said. “On FaceTime?”
“You’re not funny,” I muttered.
“I’d die if you moved away,” she said. “I mean, literally.”
“Then be nice to Marta,” I replied.
She hopped up onto the bed. “Can we change the subject? Have you thought about Photo Day?”
I had to scoot around so I could face her. “Photo Day? It’s coming up, right? Yeah. I’ve thought about it.”
“Do you know what you’re going to wear?”
“I’ll show you,” I said. I put my hands on her knees and used them to push myself to my feet. “Mom said we couldn’t afford to buy anything new. But she found a real bargain at Stafford’s.”
“Where they have the used clothes?” She started to follow me to my closet.
“It’s like new,” I said. “You’ll love it. It’s a tunic dress with puffy sleeves.”
“What color is it?”
“It’s slate colored,” I answered. “Very sophisticated.”
The doorbell chimed. I stopped with my hand on the closet doorknob. “That’s probably Sophie,” I said. “She always comes early.”
“I’ll get it.” Lissa turned and ran out into the hall.
The doorbell chimed again.
“I’m coming!” she shouted. The sound of her running footsteps faded as she headed to the front door.
I started to pull open my closet. But I stopped when I heard a sound. A low growl. Like an angry dog.
Inside the closet?
I froze with my hand gripping the doorknob. “Arnie? Is that you?” I demanded.
My little brother is a beast. No joke. It wouldn’t be the first time he hid in my closet and spied on Lissa and me.
“Arnie?”
A harsh animal snarl was the reply. Then scraping sounds. Like fingernails scratching the inside of the closet door.
“Arnie—come out of there. You’re not funny.”
I twisted the knob, swung open the door—and screamed in shock as something leaped out at me.
A black blur. A hissing blur.
It flew up from the closet floor and bumped my shoulders, hit me hard, pushing me back. I groaned and fell backward. “Owwww!” I cried out as my head bounced on the floor.
Spitting and
“Help me! Help me! Lissa! Mom! Dad! Help!”
CHAPTER 2
IS ARNIE OKAY?
The creature opened its jaws wide, its red eyes glaring into mine. Hot, sticky drool dripped onto my face.
“Help—somebody!”
Without thinking, I shot up both hands and shoved the beast off me.
It groaned and snapped its curled teeth. Its drool splattered the rug this time. The long talons on its front paws got tangled in my hair. With a grunt, it tugged itself free. Growling, it darted out of the room, black quills quivering behind it.
A putrid odor floated over me. The creature smelled like rotten fish.
I held my breath to keep the smell out. Shaking, I forced myself to my feet.
I stared into the open closet.
What was that awful creature? How did a wild animal get into the house? How did it get in my closet?
Wiping the sticky drool off my face with the sleeve of my shirt, I ran into the hall. “Did you see it?” I cried. “Did you? Did you see that . . . thing?”
Lissa spun away from the front door. My friends Sophie and Marta had stepped into the house. They were pulling off their coats.
“See what?” Lissa asked. She saw the alarm on my face. “Amy, what’s wrong?”
“Didn’t you see it?” I shouted. “It was bigger than Aunt Helen’s dog. It . . . it ran out into the hall. You had to see it! It was . . . a monster!”
Marta laughed. “You mean Arnie?”
Sophie let out a scream. “An animal in the house?” she cried. “Where? Where is it?” She shoved her back against the wall and raised her coat in front of her to protect herself.
Sophie isn’t exactly the bravest person I know.
Marta squinted at me, trying to decide if she believed me or not.
“Didn’t you see it?” I cried. “It . . . jumped out of the closet. It . . . it was covered in quills. It had red eyes, and it drooled on me.”
“Yuck!” Marta and Sophie both exclaimed. Sophie huddled next to Marta.
“I didn’t see anything,” Lissa said. “It didn’t come this way.”
“That means it’s still in the house!” Sophie cried.
We froze for a moment. Listening. I gazed up and down the hall.
“You’re sure it wasn’t Arnie?” Marta said. She tossed her coat onto the floor. She never hangs it up.
“You had to see it!” I screamed. “It was an animal! A creature!”
“Oh, I get it,” Sophie said. “We’re doing another Fright Night.” She shivered. “Do we have to? After that last scary movie, I had nightmares for a week.”
I shook my fists in front of me. “Why don’t you believe me?” I cried. “We’re not doing Fright Night. It was terrifying. It—it—”
Mom stepped into the front hall. She had just gotten out of the shower. Her blond hair was wrapped in a towel, but a few strands had escaped and dripped water onto the shoulders of her sweatshirt.
“What’s all the shouting about?” she demanded.
“Amy saw an animal in her closet,” Marta said. She snickered.
Mom turned to me. “You saw what?”
“S-Some kind of creature,” I stammered. “It was big and heavy. It knocked me over. It had long, spiky quills on its back and—”
“A porcupine?” Mom said, gazing down the hall. “In your room?”
“I don’t think it was a porcupine,” I said. “It was too big. It hissed at me and—”
“Remember when that raccoon got in the garage?” Mom said. She doesn’t like any kind of trouble. She always changes the subject immediately.
“Martinvale Woods is only two blocks away,” Lissa said. “Lots of animals come out of the woods. I think—”
“I think you should call Animal Control,” Sophie said, still shielding herself with her coat. “They’ll send someone to capture it.” She swallowed. “Maybe we should cancel the sleepover.”
“No way!” Lissa cried. “We don’t even know if the animal is still in the house.”
“Let’s search for it,” I said.
Marta nodded. “This is such a small house. It won’t take long.”
Marta lives in a big house on the other side of Martinvale Woods. It has three floors, an attic, a big roof terrace, and a four-car garage. I’m sure she feels cramped in our little ranch-style house, all on one floor.
But she didn’t have to say it.
Typical Marta.
Mom rubbed her hands together. “Let’s split up and search the house,” she said.
“Can’t we do it together?” Sophie asked.
“Okay. Together,” I said. I turned and started walking along the hall toward the back of the house.
“I was in my bathroom brushing my hair,” Mom said, following close behind me. “It didn’t come anywhere near there.”
“Where’s Dad?” I asked, suddenly remembering he was missing.
“Believe it or not, he has a late job interview,” Mom replied. “It’s the only time the guy could see him. He’s two towns away in Marion Mills.”
We stayed close together as we walked. We peeked into the kitchen. Lissa pulled up the tablecloth and peered under the kitchen table. No creature.
No sign of it in the living room or the den or Dad’s small home office. My parents’ room was next. Then my room.
Where is it? I asked myself. If it didn’t run out the door, it has to be in the house!
“We’re almost out of rooms,” Marta said. “You don’t have a basement, right?”
Arnie’s room stood at the end of the hall. The door was closed.
I raised my fist and pounded on the door. “Arnie?”
“Arnie? Are you in there?” Lissa called.
We gazed at each other, waiting for him to answer.
“I think he said he had homework to do,” Mom said.
I laughed. “Mom, when have you ever seen Arnie do homework?”
I pounded on the door again. “Arnie—open up!” I shouted.
I put my ear to the door. I didn’t hear him moving to let us in.
“Arnie! Hey—Arnie! Open the door!” Lissa called.
Silence.
Not a sound from the other side of the door.
A wave of fear rolled down my back. I turned to Mom. “Why doesn’t he answer? Is he okay?”
CHAPTER 3
QUILLS
Sophie squeezed my shoulder. “Maybe the animal ran in there? Do you think it’s in there with Arnie?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s possible. If his door was open . . .”
Sophie gasped. “Oh no. The poor kid. We have to call 911. We have to call—”
Arnie’s door swung open. He gazed out at us with a surprised expression on his face. I saw a set of VR goggles in his hand.
“What’s your problem?” he asked.
“Why didn’t you answer?” I cried.
“Cuz I knew it was you,” he said.
So nasty. Arnie looks like an angel with his curly blond hair and blue eyes and freckles around his nose. But he’d have to change his whole personality for anyone to think he was one.
“What were you doing in there?” Mom demanded. She pushed the door open farther and peered into his room.
