The Slime That Would Not Die

BOOK: The Slime That Would Not Die
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Table of Contents
 
 
 
GROSSET & DUNLAP
Published by the Penguin Group
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Text copyright © 2009 by Laura Dower. Illustrations copyright © 2009 by Grosset & Dunlap. All rights reserved. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. S.A.
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2008041572
 
eISBN : 978-1-101-14948-5

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For Papa.
With special thanks to Forrest Ackerman, aka Forry, the king of B-Monster movies; master of the monster pun; and real-life inspiration for Oswald Leery.
—Laura Dower
To Genna . . . who said I always could do this.
—Dave Schlafman
PROLOGUE
JESSE RANGER
There are a zillion things that make my hometown of Riddle weird. Like Tricks, the three-legged dog that hangs outside the library and growls at you if you have overdue books. Or the three gigantic windmills that just appeared one day out on Route 5. Or stores at Petroglyph Mall that everyone swears are haunted. But nothing in Riddle rates higher on the weird-o-meter than Leery Castle. It sits at the top of Nerve Mountain, all creepy and quiet, like it's watching me.
I'm beginning to think that maybe it is.
Leery Castle was built in the early 1900s. The first Leery to live there was Lucas Leery. He made silent movies. Then there was Desmond Leery, Lucas Leery's son. He was born in 1910 and made movies with his father. Together they made some of the most well-known movies of the time: dramas, romances, thrillers, and comedies. They created a new filming technique with a special camera no one had ever seen before. It made everything pop off the screen, almost like 3-D vision, but without funny glasses. People loved it.
Then Oswald Leery came along. He's Lucas Leery's grandson. When he inherited the family movie business, Oswald Leery decided to make only one kind of movie: the monster movie. But his movie monsters weren't your typical Frankenstein or Wolf Man. Leery's monsters had crooked fangs, laser-beam eyes, and fake blood like ketchup. You could actually see on-screen where fur was glued on. They had funny names like Rodiak and Chomp-O.
Critics made fun of Leery's movies. They called his creatures B-Monsters. But Leery didn't mind the name. He loved it so much that he renamed the special Leery family filming process B-Monster Vision. It made even the most fake-looking monsters come alive on-screen. With B-Monster Vision, flying bats seemed to fly for
real
, off the screen and right into my face.
Tuesday is the one night each week that Mom works late at the art gallery, so Dad and I always watch movies together during dinner. It was on a rainy Tuesday night last year when Dad showed me my first-ever Oswald Leery B-Monster double feature:
Bog Beast
and
Island of Dr. Dim.
I will never forget the exact moment when the Bog Beast jumps out of the swamp and swallows this mutant crocodile in one gulp. I snorted chocolate milk out of my nose—I was
that
scared. But I couldn't look away. Those special effects were so bad, they were great.
I've been hooked on Bs ever since.
All in all, Leery made sixty-three B-Monster movies, including sequels. I wish he had made even more. But seventeen years ago, he stopped making Bs—just like that.
Dad says that one day Leery disappeared into his castle and never came out again.
Most people in Riddle say that Leery went bonkers. But I don't think that's possible. The guy was a genius—not nuts. I should know: My Great Uncle Rich was a stuntman for B-Monsters once. He and Leery were best buds.
Other people think maybe Leery got a bad case of agoraphobia. That means he got so afraid of public places that he couldn't leave his castle anymore. But he's not agora-
anything.
He always loved his fans. Oswald Leery used to give guided tours of his castle to show off his huge collection of B-Monster stuff. Dad told me Great Uncle Rich took him inside the castle a few times when Dad was a kid.
Here's what I think.
I think maybe Leery got spooked by one of his own monsters. Just the smell of Slimo is supposed to be enough to make someone's nose fall off. Or maybe, just maybe, Leery woke up one day with a terrible case of amnesia and just forgot how to make movies.
It could happen. Riddle is the land of the weird, after all.
Since I started watching Bs, I've written Oswald Leery a letter every week. I have told him all of my favorite parts from each of his films, asked him about how all the special effects were done, and, every time, I've asked him for the real reason he's still hiding out up there in his castle.
Forty-eight letters later, no one has written back yet. Not even a postcard. And I've been losing hope, letter by letter.
But I won't give up.
Someday, I want to make my own cool movies.
I want the best director in the whole universe to tell me everything I need to know about fake blood, warty bumps, and all the other secrets of the Bs.
I want to visit Leery Castle and see all the same things my dad saw when he was a kid.
And, if I'm
really
lucky, I want to do all these things before I get out of fifth grade.
CHAPTER 1
BIGGER THAN RODIAK
“Get away from me, you . . . BUG!” a woman with red hair howled.
A horned black beetle the size of a soda can whizzed behind her. It landed next to her, and its sharp pointed pincers were open, ready to strike.
“Heeyaaaah!” the woman yelped.
She stomped on the beetle with the heel of her shoe. With one earsplitting crunch, bug guts sprayed all over the place.
“That's enough of you!” she cried, wiping beetle juice off her glasses.
Clickety click. Clickety click.
The woman spun around in the darkness. Where was that noise coming from? There was a switch here, somewhere. Where?
There.
Click.
A bright yellow light flooded the room.
“Nooooo!”
She was surrounded by an army of beetles just like the one she had crushed! Wings spread out like armor! Antennae twitched!
Clickety clickety click click click . . .
“Aaaaaaaah!”
The woman screamed and scrambled onto a couch. But it was too late for escape. There were too many enormous beetles scuttling toward her across the floor, like a moving carpet.
Click.
Our kitchen television winked off.
“Dad!” I exclaimed. “It was just getting to the good part.”
“You mean when the beetles crawl back out of her ears?” Dad asked, smirking.
I nodded. “My favorite scene ever.”
“Let's save it,” Dad said. “We can watch it together later when we eat dinner. Don't you have homework to do?”
“Did it. During recess,” I replied. “Just like every Tuesday, Dad.”
Dad shrugged. “I should know better. Nothing gets in the way of B-Monster nights.”
“Ha, ha, ha! Nothing!” I cackled like one of the giant alien turkeys in the B-Monster classic,
Space Birds Gone Wild.
“If only I could invent a force as magnificent as B-Monster Vision,” Dad said thoughtfully. “Now
that
would be something.”
I smiled. The truth was, Dad probably could invent something as cool as B-Monster Vision. His name is A. E. Ranger. The
A
and
E
stand for Albert and Einstein, just like the famous scientist. Dad is part scientist, part inventor,
and
part meteorologist, which is really just a fancy-schmancy word for weather guy. Last year he invented a cool machine, the Robo-Toaster, which grills secret codes onto sandwiches.
“Want spaghetti or macaroni and cheese tonight?” Dad asked.
“Mac,” I said. “With extra cheese,
please
.” I could live on a diet of cheesy noodles, Gatorade, and Blow Pops.
Even though the TV was off now, I still had B-Monster beetles on the brain. If you're not careful, Bs can spoil your appetite for dinner.
“Put those into recycling, okay?” Dad asked, pointing to a pile of newspapers.
I grabbed the papers and threw them into a large blue recycling container under our kitchen counter. Dad takes saving the planet seriously and so do I.
As I dropped the papers into the bin, a bright orange flyer caught my eye. It had a blurry photo of an old, old man on it. I recognized the mustache, hair, and glasses immediately.
“Dad! Look!” I cried, waving it in the air. It was an insert from yesterday's local newspaper. “It's Oswald Leery!”
“Read it.”
My eyes raced across the page. Oswald Leery's wrinkles were so deep in the picture that they looked like someone had drawn on his face with Magic Markers. The caption read, “Legendary Riddle film director to make last-minute appearance at local library.”
That gave me prickles all over.
“Jess,” Dad said patiently. “Why don't you read it
out loud
?”
BOOK: The Slime That Would Not Die
4.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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