Beanstalker and Other Hilarious Scarytales

  “Apple pie!” she shouted. “There was no wolf! Only a greedy little liar.”

  “Arrest him!” someone screamed.

  “Can’t,” the mustachioed woman said. “The police are still interrogating Mary. And if we have him arrested, there won’t be anyone to watch the sheep.” She was still holding on to Jack’s tongue, which was getting very uncomfortable. She tugged him forward, pinching his tongue. Then she let him go. “Come on,” she grumbled.

  Jack watched as everyone went back down the hill. They were setting up lights in the village square. It looked like some sort of party. Jack had no doubt he was no longer invited, if he ever had been.

  The sun set. He was cold. He had eaten too much pie, and now he was thirsty. And his tongue hurt from being burned and then tugged on.

  “I deserve better than this,” Jack whined.

  “Meh,” said the sheep.

  A twig snapped in the trees behind him. Jack startled, peering deep into the darkness there. A flash of red eyes peered back at him, then disappeared.

  “Wolf,” he whispered.

  Another twig snapped. Jack whipped his head to the side, where a second set of red eyes watched him.

  “Wolf,” he said.

  A chorus of low growls sounded.

  “Wolves!” Jack shouted. “Wolves, wolves, wolves!” He looked down the hill, waiting for the villagers to run up with their wonderful knives and clubs and flamethrowers. But no one was coming.

  Then the wolves began to howl. Jack had always hated the sound of wolves howling. It was so lonely, so forlorn, and so menacing all at the same time. But this time, it sounded … different.

  “Braaaaaaiiiiiins!” the wolves howled.

  “Meh?” a sheep asked.

  Jack stumbled backward, afraid to take his eyes off the trees.

  “Wolves!” he shouted until his voice was hoarse. “Wolves, wolves, wolves!!!”

  Slowly, five wolves shambled from under the pitch black cover of the trees. Their eyes glowed. Their bodies were hunched and twisted. They had none of the sleek grace of predators. Instead, they lurched brokenly, mouths hanging open.

  “Brains,” they growled.

  “Zombies?” Jack whimpered. But he knew it didn’t matter. No one was coming to help him. He had cried wolf too many times. He certainly couldn’t cry “zombie” and expect a different result. Now he was going to die, and the whole village would, too, all because he had been bored. (There are much better things to do when you are bored. You can read a book, or write a story. Start a glass coffin collection. Go spin in circles until you throw up. Clean the house. [Your parents paid me to put that one in here, sorry.] Basically do anything other than be the reason an entire village is about to be eaten by zombie wolves. That’s a terrible thing to do just because you are bored.)

  The lead wolf staggered toward him. Jack clutched the nearest sheep. At least he wouldn’t die alone. The sheep kicked Jack in the stomach. “You’re on your own, kid,” it said, before running off with the other sheep.

  “Oh, so now you can talk?” Jack cried after it. He looked into the horrible eyes of his doom. “Meh,” he whimpered.

  And then, out of nowhere, a gleaming golden lock flew into the wolf’s head. “Get up!” someone shouted, tugging on Jack’s arm.

  Jack scrambled to his feet. A little girl with beautiful golden locks of hair stood between him and death. She swung another thick lock around and around on a golden chain. A zombie wolf came at them from the side, and, before Jack could cry out, the girl had flung the lock at its head, knocking it down. She pulled the lock back, wrapping the chain around her wrist.

  “There are more coming,” she said grimly. (Many fairy tales are grim. A lot of them are Grimm, too.) “We have to go warn the village.”

  Jack had no sheep, but he was very sheepish. “You might want to be the one to tell them. I don’t think they’ll believe me. I broke into a house and ate all the food.”

  Goldilocks shrugged. “I don’t see the problem with that, as long as it was just right.” She sprinted down the hill.

  Jack risked one look back. He really shouldn’t have. An army of zombie woodland creatures, along with most of the castle employees and one burly woodcutter, were coming out of the trees. A girl in a red riding hood lurched to the front.

  “Jill?” he asked.

  She turned toward him, her eyes glowing. “Braaaaaiiiiins,” she growled.

  Jack fell down the hill.

  Jill came tumbling after.

  Once upon a time, there was a stepmother who had devoted her life to putting out fires.

  Whether they were metaphorical fires, like a stepdaughter destined to grow into a terrible creature of the night or a stepdaughter who fell victim to her horrible hungry pet, or literal fires, like the kind she had been dumping water on all day thanks to Cinderella and Prince Charring’s honeymoon tour through the kingdom, the stepmother was there to put them out.

  She had just finished dousing a literal fire, and was not ready to douse any metaphorical fires. So when she heard Jack screaming her name, she sat heavily onto the ground and put her head in her hands. A little dog trotted by. Its bark sounded like it was laughing to see such a sight.

  “Stepmother!” Jack shouted. “Stepmooooooooother!”

  “I’m over here,” she groaned.

  Jack skidded to a halt in front of her. At his side was a girl with beautiful golden locks. She had nice hair, too. “We need your help!”

  “Of course you do.”

  “Stepmother!” a girl’s voice screamed. “Step-moooooooooother!”

  The stepmother stood, puzzled. From the opposite direction, a horse came barreling out of the trees. Cinderella and Prince Charring clung to its back. They didn’t even have anything burning with them. Something must really be wrong.

  “We need your help!” the prince shouted.

  “No, we need her help!” Jack said. He pointed in the direction he had come from. “Zombies!”

  Cinderella scowled, pointing back to the trees where she had come from. “Vampires!”

  The stepmother massaged her temples. She had a headache. She had had a headache for approximately the last eighteen years. “Zombies?”

  “Yes,” the girl with the golden locks said. “I’ve been tracking the source of the outbreak for days. Fortunately, they bypassed the sheep village. Their leader seems to be especially hungry for Jack’s brains. She’s a little girl in a red riding hood.”

  “Jill?” The stepmother looked at Jack. Jack shrugged sheepishly, the one skill he had learned while being a sheep-sitter.

  “There are too many for me to fight on my own.” Goldilocks twirled one of her weapons, watching the night for signs of shambling.

  “Well, we have vampires!” Cinderella said. “A creepy girl and seven little dwarves!”

  “Hirsute boys,” the stepmother corrected.

  “Hirsute vampires,” Prince Charring updated.

  It was the middle of the night. There was no sun. And even if there was sun, the stepmother didn’t know how to deal with zombies. She thought she had taken care of Snow White—twice!—but something always came up. It was all Jack and Cinderella’s fault. If they hadn’t been climbing plants up into the clouds or setting fires, she would have been able to make sure that Snow White had been properly and permanently put to sleep. And where had the zombies come from?

  (Should I tell her? No, she’s better off not knowing. I wish I didn’t know.)

  “I don’t think I care,” the stepmother said.

  “What?” Jack asked.

  “I’m tired. I’ve been cleaning up messes for eighteen years now, ever since I took my first job as a stepmother. What’s wrong with these kingdoms, anyway? Why are there no mothers? Why do all the fathers up and die as soon as they marry me? It’s not fair! It’s not fair, and I’m not going to do it anymore. All this time I thought I was helping you all. Now I think maybe I was hurting.”

  “But we need you!” Cind
erella said.

  The stepmother took off wedding ring after wedding ring, dropping them onto the ground. “What you need,” she said as the last ring plinked metallically to the pile, “is to figure out how to deal with your own problems.”

  “Umm, this is a little more serious than help with homework,” Goldilocks said.

  “It’s all the same principle. You have brains. You have skills.” She paused, frowning at Jack. “Well, you have something. Use it.”

  “But what are you going to do?” Jack asked.

  The stepmother pulled out all she had left in her bag. A dish and a spoon. Maybe she could use them to—

  The dish grabbed the spoon and ran away. Even dishes have enough sense to leave when caught between a vampire army and a zombie horde.

  “Well, I’m going to go sleep.” Dusting off her skirts, the stepmother climbed the nearest tree. She had barely settled onto a nice, comfortable branch when she heard cooing. She peered over to see a cradle, complete with baby.

  “Oh, great. I don’t suppose you have a mother, do you?”

  The baby clapped its hands and giggled.

  “Do you like fire?”

  The baby shook its head.

  “Are you secretly undead?”

  The baby laughed, blowing bubbles.

  “Honestly, this kingdom.” The stepmother patted the baby’s stomach until it fell asleep. Then, closing her eyes, she did, too.

  Down on the ground, Cinderella, Prince Charring, Goldilocks, and Jack stared at each other. “Goldilocks can fight,” Jack said.

  “Not that many zombies at once. And I’ve never fought vampires.”

  Cinderella looked at her hands helplessly. They were filled with matches. “What do the rest of us have to offer?”

  “I had a cow,” Jack said sadly.

  “What good would a cow do us?” Goldilocks asked.

  “We’ll never know, because I traded her for some magic beans.”

  Prince Charring snapped his fingers. “Magic beans! Yes! We’ll use those!”

  Jack shook his head. “I don’t have them anymore. I accidentally planted them and they grew into a huge stalk.”

  “Oh.” Cinderella pulled out a lighter, flicking it on and off, on and off. It wasn’t comforting her much right now. “Well, what do we know about zombies and vampires?”

  “They don’t like sunlight,” Goldilocks said. “But we’ve got too many hours left in the night.”

  “Hmm.” The prince rubbed two sticks together, lighting a small pile of hay on fire. “If only there was something else that both vampires and zombies feared. Something we could use. Something we were good at.”

  Jack nodded, morose. Morose is like sad, when you have even more sad, but you have to keep going regardless.

  “It wouldn’t matter anyway,” Jack said. “The whole kingdom is blocked in by giant plants. So they’re trapped in here, and we are, too.”

  Goldilocks paced. “If only there was somewhere else we could send them, and some way to scare them into going there!”

  Jack sat on the ground, defeated. “I guess we’re all going to be eaten.”

  “Wait,” Jack said, staring up at those letters. “I don’t want this to be the end! Stepmother is right. I’m thinking short-term again. I need to think long-term. She said we already had everything we needed!”

  Goldilocks patted his shoulder sympathetically. “Yes, then she climbed up a tree and went to sleep. Maybe her advice isn’t super dependable.”

  “What are you good at?” Jack asked Cinderella and Prince Charring.

  They both held up torches in response.

  “And what are you good at?” Jack asked Goldilocks.

  “Breaking and entering, mostly. But I used to herd sheep. They called me Little Bo Peep.”

  “My snake is good at eating things.” They all turned in surprise to see a tall, round girl with a long, thick snake. The prince yelped in terror, jumping into Cinderella’s arms.

  “How many things?” Jack asked hopefully. “We have, like, a few dozen … things … that need to be eaten!”

  “Not that many,” Rapunzel said. “Even my fair Herr has his limits.”

  Jack didn’t have time to ask for a spelling clarification. “Darn. So your snake can eat a few things. Goldilocks is good at herding things. And they’re good at fire.” Jack frowned. He rubbed his forehead. If only he still had his magic beans! If only he had a way for them to get those zombies and vampires out of the kingdom! If only—

  “Fee fie foe fum,” Jack muttered. His brown eyes grew wide. “I have an idea?” he asked. (He asked because he had never really had an idea before, and he wasn’t sure what they felt like. But I know. Yes, Jack! You’re having an idea!) “If zombies and vampires don’t like the sun, they definitely won’t like fire. The sun is made out of fire, after all. And we can use fire and Goldilock’s herding skills to get them where we want them. And the snake can eat any stragglers!”

  “Where do we want them?” Prince Charring asked.

  Jack pointed to the sky. Against the dark of the night, a single black stalk could be seen. “The only way out of the kingdom is up. We drive them to the beanstalk, they climb, and then we chop it down when they’re all gone!”

  Goldilocks threw her arms around Jack’s neck. “That’s perfect!”

  “We need more supplies,” Cinderella said. “Gasoline, wood, gasoline, cloth, gasoline, matches, gasoline …”

  “Books,” Prince Charring suggested. No! I shout. You cannot have any books! Prince Charring rubbed his ears. “Fine, fine, no books.”

  Rapunzel stroked her fair Herr and gave him a pep talk. The prince stayed very far away from both of them.

  Goldilocks ran from house to house, breaking and entering. Normally, I would chide her for violating the law, but tonight I’ll cheer her on. Go, Goldilocks, go! Find those houses that are just right!

  Cinderella and Prince Charring followed, gathering everything flammable and inflammable (which inexplicably mean the same thing, because no one asked me if that made any sense before they decided that) they could find. Except books, because Prince Charring didn’t want to make me angry. They already had to deal with angry zombies and angry vampires, after all. And nothing is more terrifying than angry narrators.

  Once everything was in place, all that was left to do was wait.

  Jack hated waiting. He always got bored. But he had finally found a good solution to boredom: sheer and utter terror! He was so scared, he couldn’t even manage to complain about having to stand alone in the middle of the road.

  Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait there long. Led by Red Riding Hood, the zombie horde shambled and lurched toward him. On the other end of the road, Snow White emerged from the night. Her smile was sharper than a knife. Behind her were the seven hirsute vampires. When Snow White saw Jack, she hissed. Jack had been the queen’s favorite. Spoiled. Free. Snow White wanted his blood more than anyone else’s! But she’d have to compete with Red Riding Hood, who wanted his brains more than anyone else’s.

  Jack trembled. All he wanted—all he ever wanted—was something good to eat and a comfy place for a nap. But he had finally learned that you have to earn those things. “Oh boy!” he shouted. “I sure do have a large, juicy brain! And so much blood you can practically hear me sloshing when I run!”

  All the red zombie eyes and all the glowing vampire eyes turned and fixed on Jack. Jack, be nimble! Jack, BE QUICK! Jack darted into the forest. Behind him, he heard hissing and growling, shambling and darting, groans for his brains and sweet cheerful calls for some of his blood, please.

  He nearly turned around. Snow White was so beautiful, and so good, and so sweet! But he knew Jill was back there, too, with her little red riding hood. And she was not good or sweet! So he kept running.

  Jack was getting tired, but he pushed himself even faster. Most of this was his fault, after all. When this was over, he was going to learn the name of every single vegetable in the world. He mig
ht even eat some of them! Finally he saw the beanstalk up ahead of him.

  He ran past it and skidded to a halt on the far side. The vampires and zombies were almost to him. “Now!” he shouted. Cinderella and Prince Charring put their torches to the ground, and an impassable ring of fire fwooshed up in a circle around the base of the beanstalk. Snow White screamed and cried, batting her eyelashes and crying pitiful tears. Little Red Riding Hood stood so close to the flames Jack could smell her cooking. It cured his appetite.

  Goldilocks ran around the perimeter, making sure no creatures escaped their trap. The fair Herr ate one wolf, one burly woodsman, and a single hirsute vampire. It was hard to slither anymore with three such large lumps inside, but Rapunzel clapped her hands in glee. “Who’s a good fair Herr? You are! Yes, you are!”

  “That’s everyone!” Goldilocks shouted. “No more stragglers!”

  “Just go!” Jack shouted at Jill. She was still trying to get through the fire to him. “It’s too hot!”

  Even in her current state, Little Red Riding Hood knew that, for once, this too was too much. Following her lead, the vampires and zombies started climbing the beanstalk.

  Up,

  up,

  up they climbed.

  When the last trailing groan of “braaaaaaiiiiiins” had faded away to nothing, and Jack couldn’t hear Snow White’s tempting song anymore, Goldilocks handed Jack an ax.

  She grinned. “You do the honors.”

  Jack swung the ax with all his might. It hit the base of the beanstalk, and … barely made a dent. You really do need to start eating your vegetables, Jack. Panting for breath, he took another swing, then another. Rapunzel, impatient, took the ax from him. She had enormous muscles from hauling such a heavy snake up and down her tower. After three powerful swings, the beanstalk fell with a mighty crash. It knocked down trees and homes, even taking out part of the vine wall around the kingdom.

  Jack stood proudly with his hands on his hips. As the sun rose over the smoldering, burning, smoking, broken, smashed, depopulated ruins of the kingdom, Jack and the gang patted one another on the back. “We saved everyone!” they cheered.