5) Make the papier-mâché: Mix the flour and salt in a bowl, adding enough water to make a thin paste. You don’t want a watery paste or a goopy paste that is hard to stir.
6) Tear newspaper into ¼-inch strips. Dip the strips one at a time into the paste. Place each strip onto the foil-and-plastic-wrap mold, making sure to completely cover the mold with strips, overlapping the strips as necessary. Make two layers of newspaper strips.
7) Let the mask dry overnight. It needs to be hard and dry before you paint.
8) If your mask is dry and hard, use poster or acrylic paint to bring your hideous creation to life. Add lots of gory details like blood, oozing cuts, scars, and anything else you can think of.
9) Once your paint dries, separate the paper mask from the foil-and-plastic-wrap mold.
10) On each side of your haunted mask in the location of your ears, poke holes about ¼-inch in diameter. Cut the string in half. Tie a knot on one end of each string and run one piece through each hole.
11) Put on your mask, tie the string behind your head, and show off your creation!
The Dos and Don’ts of the Stage
Everyone knows you are supposed to say “break a leg” instead of “good luck” to someone about to go onstage, but did you know about these other strange superstitions and traditions?
NEVER SAY THE NAME OF SHAKESPEARE’S MACBETH.
INSTEAD, ACTORS CALL IT “THE SCOTTISH PLAY.”
NEVER KEEP A THEATER OPEN ALL SEVEN DAYS
IN A WEEK—THE GHOSTS NEED A DAY TO
PERFORM THEIR OWN PLAYS!
NEVER USE REAL MONEY—OR WEAR
REAL JEWELRY—ONSTAGE.
NEVER HAVE A MIRROR ONSTAGE—
BROKEN OR OTHERWISE!
NEVER ALLOW A CAT ONSTAGE DURING
A PERFORMANCE, BUT KEEP ONE TO
HANG AROUND DURING OTHER TIMES.
NEVER GIVE AN ACTOR FLOWERS BEFORE A SHOW.
AND WHEN YOU DO GIVE THEM, MAKE SURE
THEY ARE FROM A GRAVEYARD.
NEVER WEAR GREEN OR YELLOW.
AND ONLY WEAR BLUE IF YOU ARE
ALSO WEARING SILVER.
NEVER WEAR BRAND-NEW MAKEUP
ON OPENING NIGHT.
NEVER SPEAK THE LAST LINE OF A PLAY
BEFORE OPENING NIGHT.
AN ACTOR MUST NEVER WHISTLE—
ONSTAGE OR OFF.
ALWAYS KEEP AT LEAST ONE LIGHT ON
IN AN EMPTY THEATER TO GIVE GHOSTS
ENOUGH LIGHT TO SEE BY—AND KEEP THEM
FROM LASHING OUT IN ANGER!
ALWAYS EXIT THE DRESSING ROOM
WITH YOUR LEFT FOOT FIRST.
Teaser
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1
My brother, Peter, tightened the belt around his white karate uniform. “Monica,” he said, “if you get more Snickers bars than me, can we trade?”
He didn’t wait for me to answer.
“Mom, are we allowed to eat unwrapped candy?” he shouted. Mom was downstairs. How did he expect her to hear him?
He did a little dance and gave me a hard karate chop on the shoulder.
“Ow. Stop it, Peter,” I groaned. I rubbed my shoulder.
He laughed. “You’re such a wimp.” He pretended to chop me again. I ducked away.
“Can you get dizzy from eating chocolate?” Peter asked. “Freddy Milner says if you eat enough chocolate, you get so dizzy, you can’t walk straight.”
“Don’t try it tonight,” I said.
He staggered around the room till he crashed into the wall. Then he leaped in the air and did a high karate kick. “Look out!” I screamed. He almost kicked my laptop off the desk.
“Why don’t you get out of my room and wait downstairs?” I said.
“Why don’t you make me?” he said. He grinned his toothy grin as he raised both fists.
Peter thinks he’s cute, but he isn’t. For one thing, he’s too tall to be cute. He’s ten — two years younger than me — but he’s nearly a foot taller than I am. He has stringy blond hair and a long, bent nose and funny teeth. He’s my brother but let’s face facts — he’s a beast.
He picked up a postage stamp from my desk. Licked it — and stuck it to my forehead. Then he collapsed laughing on my bed.
“Why did you do that?” I growled.
He shrugged. “Why not?”
Guess you can understand why I spell Peter’s name P-A-I-N.
He talks too much. He can’t stand still. He’s always dancing and chopping and kicking. And he thinks he’s funny, but he isn’t.
My friends can’t stand him.
Some kids take pills to slow them down to normal speed. But my parents make excuses for Peter. They say he’s just high energy.
Like I’m some kind of lazy slob. I’m only captain of the gymnastics team and star sprinter of the Hillcrest Middle School track team.
“What kind of costume is that?” Peter asked with a sneer. “A pair of black shorts over purple tights?”
“It’s my gymnastics uniform,” I said.
He laughed. “You look like a freak.”
“Mom!” I shouted down the stairs. “Do I have to take him?”
I heard her footsteps on the stairs. I stepped out into the hall. She stopped halfway up and leaned on the banister.
“Monica, are you still complaining?” She blew back a strand of her curly copper-colored hair.
She and I have the same color hair. Actually, we kind of look like sisters. We’re both small and thin. Unlike Peter and Dad, who are both gangly hulks.
I sighed. “I just want to meet up with Caroline and Regina and hang out with them.”
“Well, you can’t,” Mom said. “You have to take Peter trick-or-treating.”
I rolled my eyes. “But, Mom, all he does is practice karate on us till we’re black-and-blue.”
That made Peter laugh. Behind me in my room, he picked up one of my stuffed pandas and gave it some hard chops.
“You girls can defend yourselves,” Mom said. “Kick him back.”
Peter dropped the panda to the floor. “Huh?”
“Besides, he’ll be too busy collecting candy,”
Mom said. “You know he’s a total candy nut. He won’t have time to pester you and your friends.”
She shouted to Peter. “Am I right?”
“Whatever,” Peter replied.
I sighed again. “Okay, let’s get it over with,” I said.
I returned to my room and pulled a silvery mask over my eyes. Maybe people wouldn’t recognize me. The elastic band caught in my hair. As if being with my brother wasn’t enough pain.
I turned and saw Peter pull a black mask down over his eyes. It matched the black belt around his uniform. Peter is nowhere near a black belt. But he wears one anyway.
A few seconds later, we stepped out the front door. Peter hopped down the steps and went running to the street.
It was a dark October night. A half-moon hung low over the houses across the street. The wind gusted, making dead leaves swirl in circles in the front yard.
I shivered. Maybe my shorts and tights and sleeveless T-shirt were a mistake. Maybe I needed a jacket.
But as I followed Peter away from the light of the house into the blue-black darkness, I realized I wasn’t shivering from the wind.
Normally, I’m not a fraidy cat. But I just had a feeling …
… A very bad feeling about this Halloween.
2
Caroline wore a top hat, a ragged man’s overcoat, big floppy shoes, and a bumpy rubber nose. She spoke in a high, creaky voice and said she was a Munchkin from The Wizard of Oz.
Regina wore gray spandex workout clothes. She had black whiskers painted
on her cheeks. She said she was Catwoman. With her olive-colored eyes, she looked like a cat even without the whiskers.
All three of us are on the gymnastics team at school. So we are pretty strong and athletic.
But we were no match for Peter.
He kept dancing around us, making wide circles. Then he’d dart in and snatch something out of our trick-or-treat bags. He was a total thief.
“Give that back!” Regina cried. She made a grab for the candy bar Peter swiped. “That’s my favorite!”
“Mine, too,” Peter said, dancing away, giggling his head off. He shoved Regina’s candy into his big shopping bag.
Regina didn’t give up easily. She let out a roar and dove at Peter.
He dodged to the side and gave her a hard karate chop — in the neck.
“Ullllp.” Regina made a horrible noise and started to choke.
For once, Peter stopped dancing. “Oh. Sorry,” he said. “That was an accident.”
“This is an accident, too!” Caroline cried. She lowered her shoulder and plowed right into Peter.
The two of them went rolling into a pile of dry leaves. Peter held on to his trick-or-treat bag for dear life. He swung it at Caroline, and she rolled away from him.
Regina rubbed her throat. “I’m okay,” she said.
“It was an accident. Really,” Peter insisted. He jumped up and trotted over to Regina. He held up his shopping bag. “Take a candy. Go ahead. Take any one.”
Regina eyed him suspiciously.
He shook the bag in front of her. She reached in and pulled out a big Snickers bar.
“Not that one!” Peter cried. He grabbed it out of her hand and backed away with it.
Regina let out a groan. “You creep!”
Caroline took Regina by the arm and started to pull her away. “Catch you later, Monica,” she called.
“Hey, wait —” I started after them. “Where are you going?”
GOOSEBUMPS HorrorLand™
Also Available from Scholastic Audio Books
#1 REVENGE OF THE LIVING DUMMY
#2 CREEP FROM THE DEEP
#3 MONSTER BLOOD FOR BREAKFAST!
#4 THE SCREAM OF THE HAUNTED MASK
#5 DR. MANIAC VS. ROBBY SCHWARTZ
#6 WHO’S YOUR MUMMY?
#7 MY FRIENDS CALL ME MONSTER
#8 SAY CHEESE — AND DIE SCREAMING!
#9 WELCOME TO CAMP SLITHER
#10 HELP! WE HAVE STRANGE POWERS!
#11 ESCAPE FROM HORRORLAND
#12 THE STREETS OF PANIC PARK
GOOSEBUMPS HORRORLAND BOXED SET #1-4
WELCOME TO HORRORLAND: A SURVIVAL GUIDE
#13 WHEN THE GHOST DOG HOWLS
#14 LITTLE SHOP OF HAMSTERS
#15 HEADS, YOU LOSE!
#16 SPECIAL EDITION: WEIRDO HALLOWEEN
#17 THE WIZARD OF OOZE
#18 SLAPPY NEW YEAR!
#19 THE HORROR AT CHILLER HOUSE
GOOSEBUMPS®
HALL OF HORRORS
#1 CLAWS!
#2 NIGHT OF THE GIANT EVERYTHING
#3 SPECIAL EDITION: THE FIVE MASKS OF DR. SCREEM
GOOSEBUMPS®
NOW WITH BONUS FEATURES!
NIGHT OF THE LIVING DUMMY
DEEP TROUBLE
MONSTER BLOOD
THE HAUNTED MASK
ONE DAY AT HORRORLAND
THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY’S TOMB
BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR
SAY CHEESE AND DIE!
THE HORROR AT CAMP JELLYJAM
HOW I GOT MY SHRUNKEN HEAD
THE WEREWOLF OF FEVER SWAMP
A NIGHT IN TERROR TOWER
WELCOME TO DEAD HOUSE
WELCOME TO CAMP NIGHTMARE
GHOST BEACH
THE SCARECROW WALKS AT MIDNIGHT
YOU CAN’T SCARE ME!
RETURN OF THE MUMMY
REVENGE OF THE LAWN GNOMES
PHANTOM OF THE AUDITORIUM
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Copyright
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Goosebumps book series created by Parachute Press, Inc.
Copyright © 1994 by Scholastic Inc.
Cover design by Steve Scott
Cover art by Brandon Dorman
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, GOOSEBUMPS, GOOSEBUMPS HORRORLAND, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
First printing, June 2011
“Behind the Screams” bonus material by Gabrielle S. Balkan
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
eISBN: 978-0-545-38884-9
R. L. Stine, Phantom of the Auditorium
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