The Girl with the Destructo Touch
“Oh my goodness,” Victoria squeaked, popping up from behind the barrel. She ran to the garage and tried the doorknob.
Locked.
But she remembered where she'd seen Billy find the key. Victoria ran back to the barrel, and using her five-year-old strength, dragged it over to the door to stand on so that she could reach the key that was hidden above the doorframe.
“Gotcha!” she said as her fingers found it, hopping down from the barrel and unlocking the door.
“Mr. Flops!” she said excitedly as she turned on the garage lights. “We need to help Billy right away before those nasty Sassafrasses try to get him.”
She found Billy's backpack with Mr. Flops sticking out from the top. As she plucked her bunny from the bag, her eyes caught sight of what else her bestest friend's bag had inside it.
His costume.
“This looks like a job for Owlboy, Mr. Flops,” Victoria said as she picked up the bag and ran from the garage.
Running as fast as she could, she crossed the driveway into her own yard and found her Big Wheel.
“Hopefully we won't be too late,” she said, putting Billy's backpack on and shoving Mr. Flops down between her legs.
“Hold onto your carrots, I'm gonna be going wicked fast,” Victoria said as she started to pedal the Big Wheel as fast as she could.
She must've been going a bazillion miles an hour.
CHAPTER 13
The excitement backstage at the Connery Elementary School Costume Extravaganza was so thick it could be cut with a lightsaber.
The kids from first, second and third grades were out on stage for their halloween pageant, dressed as ghosts, pumpkins, witches and spiders. Billy could hear them singing a song about a lonely pumpkin and rolled his eyes. He remembered doing the exact same song a few years ago when he was little.
His friends were running around like maniacs and hadn't noticed his arrival, costume box tucked under his arm. He was still a bit angry at them, but at least now he had a costume.
Oh boy, did he.
“By the prickling in my thumbs, something wicked this way comes!” said a squeaky voice. Billy turned to see Kathy B in one of the best witch costumes he'd ever seen.
“Hey, Billy,” she said. “Whaddya think?” She spun around so he could see the whole costume, which was made up of tattered black and gray strips of cloth. Her face was painted a sickly green, and she had an awesome fake crooked nose. Her hair was wild and crazy, and Billy half expected bats to come flying out of it.
“Nice,” he said simply.
“I'm Witch Number One, Act 1, scene three of Macbeth,” she said proudly. “Pretty cool, eh?”
“Yep,” Billy agreed.
“What's in the box?” she asked, pointing a clawed finger.
He was about to answer when the Grim Reaper showed up.
Billy had to admit that it too was a pretty awesome costume, made in such a way that whoever was underneath the long black robes and hood appeared at least seven feet tall. The eyes on the white skull face within the darkness of the hood glowed a creepy red as the reaper raised a very realistic-looking scythe.
“So should they just give me first prize now?” asked a muffled voice, and Dwight's sweaty face popped out from somewhere in the belly of the death costume. He smiled his cooler than ice smile. “Bet you've never seen a costume this awesome before. C'mon, admit it, Hooten. This one's a killer.”
“It's good,” Billy agreed noncommittally, clutching the box containing the mutated cow costume all the tighter. He was beginning to think that his improvisation might not be enough to win.
“I bet the real Grim Reaper doesn't look this good,” Dwight said with a sly smile and a wink. “Is that your costume there?” he asked, reaching out with his plastic scythe to tap on the box.
“Don't put that thing anywhere near me,” Danny Ashwell announced as he came around the corner, wearing what appeared to be a green trash bag. His arms and legs were sticking out from the side, his face was painted the same color as the plastic bag and he was wearing a green shower cap. “You'll tear through my elastic membrane and release my cytoplasm.”
“What the heck are you supposed to be?” Dwight asked with a sneer.
“I'm a paramecium,” Danny answered with an eye roll. “I thought it would be freakin' obvious.”
Everybody just stared, their mouths hanging open.
“Here's my pellicle membrane,” he explained, touching the crinkly surface of his trash bag–covered body. “And my cilia,” he added, waving his arms around and spinning in a circle. “Inside, of course, you can imagine the cytoplasm, the trichocysts, the gullet, the macronucleus and the micronucleus.”
The staring continued.
“Didn't anybody pay attention in Mr. DeVirgillio's biology class?” he asked.
“So, you're, like, a bug?” Dwight asked, scratching his nose with the tip of the scythe.
Danny buried his face in his hands, and for a moment, Billy felt that his costume wasn't going to be the worst one after all.
“Pssst! Psssssssssst!” Somebody hiding behind the stacked boxes of Christmas pageant props hissed.
“Who's that?” Kathy B asked.
“Oh yeah,” Danny said. “Reggie wants me to announce him.” From the sleeve of his cilia, Danny pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper, unfolded it and began to read.
“ ‘From the darkest reaches of space he has come, hiding in plain sight amongst normal household appliances. He is our only hope against the invading forces of the Metamorphobots. He is…'”
Danny paused as Reggie emerged from hiding.
“Reggie the Transmogrifier!”
With great difficulty, Reggie shambled over to them. The costume was obviously handmade, but really interesting. It looked as if it was made almost entirely out of paper towel and toilet paper rolls that had been painted blue.
From within his helmet, made from a spray-painted cardboard box, Reggie smiled, displaying the only real metal on the entire robot costume. His elaborate braces shone brightly, and Billy had to wonder if his friend had found some way to polish them.
“Do you guys know how long I've been working on this?” Reggie asked as one of his rolls fell off his costume and hit the floor. “Could you get that for me, Bill?”
Billy picked up the bright blue paper towel roll and handed it to his friend.
“Thanks,” Reggie said, attempting to reattach it. “The glue must not've been dry enough.”
“Wow, ain't we all a sight?” Kathy B said, and Billy felt everyone's eyes on him. “So, Bill,” she continued, “what've you come up with this year?”
“Still think you've got a chance of winning?” Dwight asked, his head disappearing into the belly of his Grim Reaper costume.
“It would have to be mighty special to beat this group,” Reggie said, another one of his paper rolls falling to the floor.
“He might not have anything, but remember, we still got Randy and Mitchell to deal with,” Danny reminded them, and they all got very quiet.
But Billy didn't mind, because it distracted them from him.
“Who knows what those two have come up with,” Billy said.
“So, you got something that could beat them, Billy?” Reggie asked. Another blue tube dropped off his body.
“Yeah, Bill,” Kathy B added. “Let's see what you've come up with this year.”
“Just hope it's got nothing to do with biology,” Danny said sadly.
“Let's see it, Hooten,” Dwight demanded in his scariest Grim Reaper voice.
Billy was about to give the story of his mutated cow costume when a swarm of ghosts, witches, spiders and pumpkins flooded into the backstage area, squealing and laughing.
From the stage, they could hear Mrs. McKinney's voice announcing that it was time for the costume competition.
“That's us!” Dwight cried, moving toward the stage, Billy's costume already forgotten.
All the others followed except for Kathy B. ??
?So are you gonna be in the contest?”
“Yeah,” Billy answered. “But can you do me a favor?”
“Sure, what do ya need?”
Billy set the box down and opened it. “Could you ask Mrs. McKinney to read my name last so I can get ready?”
“Sure thing, Billy,” Kathy B said, darting toward the curtain to wait with the others.
This is it, Billy thought, finding a nice dark corner backstage to get into his costume. May the best man—or girl—win. He pulled the costume from the box, being extra-careful not to squirt his udders.
He finished putting his costume on, sealed up the front with Velcro snaps and then went to the restroom at the far end of the backstage area to take a look at himself in the mirror that hung from the back of the door. “Dear God,” Billy cried, staring at his reflection. “I'm an abomination.” He was the strangest cow he had ever seen, but still a cow. The tips of the udders protruding from the costume's belly had started to leak a nasty-looking green substance.
Good that isn't the real thing, Billy thought, grabbing some paper towels to clean up the mess. The actual corrosive substance that he imagined leaking from the udders would have eaten through the floor, and probably the earth.
“Mitchell Spivey and Randal Kulkowski,” he heard Mrs. McKinney read and he was on the move, running around the young ghosts, witches, pumpkins and spiders that were still hyped up on candy corn and whatever other kinds of sugary treats they could shove into their mouths.
“What is that?” a spider kid asked as he ambled past.
“Think it's some kind of cow,” answered a ghost.
“He's leakin',” said a witch.
“Ewwwwwwwwwwwwww!” they all groaned.
If he'd had the time, he would have squirted them with his udders of doom, but he had to see what Randy and Mitchell had come up with.
There were still a couple more kids waiting to be called—a kid dressed as an astronaut, a winged fairy and a fireman. Billy pushed past them, excusing himself so that he could get a look. From what he could hear, Randy and Mitchell were getting quite the reaction.
Stepping to the side of the fairy, Billy looked out onto the stage and gasped.
The costume was amazing. It made him feel sick to his stomach and jealous at the same time.
From what he could figure of the design, both Randy and Mitchell were inside the bulky green body of the suit, one likely sitting on the shoulders of the other. The costume had a great big square-shaped head and long, apelike arms with tufts of fake hair glued all over them.
Billy watched as the Mitchell/Randy beast stomped around the stage and the audience applauded wildly.
The monster turned toward him and Billy got a good look at the giant-sized head and its great, bulging, bloodshot eyes, which looked to be made from papiermâché. Its enormous mouth was on a sort of hinge, and as it opened and closed Billy could see the grinning face of Randy peeking out from inside.
Looking at the monster costume head-on, and ignoring Randy's ugly mug, Billy had the odd sense that he had seen this beastie, or at least something like it, before.
And then it hit him.
It had a striking resemblance to a Sassafras Sibling.
Keeping close to the shadows around the brick structure, the Sassafras Siblings watched the trail of pink-skinned humans entering the school building.
“What should we call them?” Sigmund asked his sister.
Sireena was desperately trying to look at her reflection in a handheld mirror. She couldn't look a mess before destroying her archenemy and conquering his home world.
“Who?” she asked her brother as she smacked her enormous lips, making sure her lipstick was evenly applied.
“Them.” He pointed. “The humans.”
Satisfied, Sireena put her mirror away. “You already answered the question, idiot. They're humans.”
“But don't you think that's sort of boring? I think we should rename them, especially if we're going to conquer them and all.”
Sireena checked her rifle again to be certain it was loaded. It was, and she felt a thrill of excitement pass through her as she thought about it turning the enemy to dust.
“I imagine you've already thought of a new name,” she said to her brother.
“Pinkies,” Sigmund said with an enormous smile that showed off multiple rows of crooked teeth.
He has Father's smile, Sireena thought as she stared at him, suppressing the urge to knock all his teeth out. She had never really liked Father.
“Pinkies?” she asked, her face twisted up as if she'd smelled something really bad. “I don't like it.”
“Of course you like it,” Sigmund barked. “It's perfect. They're all soft and pink…and… and soft… and pink. It's perfect and you know it!”
Sireena rolled her eyes. “When I have the opportunity—after Owlboy is no more—I'll come up with a much more interesting—”
Sigmund pounced, and the two of them tumbled over on top of each other.
“I hate you!” he shrieked, banging her head on the ground.
Sireena rolled atop her brother, sticking her hand inside his mouth and trying to pull out his tongue.
And it was then that they heard the sound of laughter.
They froze, realizing that they had rolled from the concealing shadows into the light. Humans were watching their fight, pointing and laughing.
An enormously fat human emerged from the crowd, huffing and puffing. Sireena jumped off her brother, looking for her fallen weapon, just as the fat Pinky grabbed them both by the back of their necks, yanking them to their feet.
“Don't make me report you two to the principal,” the huge Pinky gurgled. “Apologize to each other and we can all go inside and enjoy the Halloween show.”
Sigmund snarled and Sireena did the same in return.
The Pinky shook them both violently. “Apologize!” she shrieked, sounding more terrifying than an angry banshee in search of prey.
“I'm sorry I tried to pull out your tongue,” Sireena said to her sibling.
“And I'm sorry I tried to smash your skull in,” Sigmund responded in kind.
“Isn't that better?” the gigantic Pinky said. “Now let's all go inside before we miss what's left of the costume show.”
And with those words, she hurried her gaggle along, moving toward the front steps of the building.
“That was rather embarrassing,” Sireena said.
“I won't tell anybody if you don't.”
“Is Owlboy inside?” Sireena asked her brother.
Sigmund tilted his head back and sniffed the air. “Yes, he's there all right.”
“Then we should go in,” Sireena said, retrieving her weapon from the shadows. “We wouldn't want to miss the end of the show.”
Sigmund laughed, picking up his rifle, and the two of them ran for the stairs in full combat mode.
First Owlboy, and then his world, Sireena thought excitedly as they entered the structure, catching sight of one of the human children as it disappeared through a set of double doors.
“He's through there,” Sigmund said, motioning toward the doors.
“Then we must be as well,” Sireena said, hefting her weapon.
The Sassafras Siblings charged toward the set of double doors. Sigmund threw them open wide as they entered the semidark chamber.
“Where is he?” Sireena spat, the faces of the humans in the large auditorium turning to look at her and her brother. “Where is the accursed Owlboy?”
She waited for their reply, her finger itchy upon the trigger of the weapon that would eliminate the major obstacle preventing them from taking over this world.
Glancing over to see what her brother was doing, Sireena was stunned to see him just standing there, like the idiot he was, staring at the stage.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “You should be scaring them into giving Owlboy up.”
Sigmund raised a hand, pointing to the stage. “Look,” he said, wearing
an expression of shock and awe.
Sireena did as he asked, never expecting to see what she saw before them. “It's impossible,” she whispered.
“But it's true,” Sigmund responded, a tremble of emotion in his voice.
They started down the aisle of the auditorium toward the stage, their eyes riveted to the ten-foot-tall, green-skinned creature standing upon it.
They had never seen their mother look so beautiful.
* * *
Hearing the sudden commotion, Billy wandered out onto the side of the stage to see what was going on.
The audience was buzzing, watching as two monsters, carrying two of the biggest guns he had ever seen, came down the aisle toward the stage.
Billy practically peed himself.
What the heck are the Sassafras Siblings doing here? he wondered, on the verge of panic. The brother and sister ogres were almost at the stage, and were yelling to Randy and Mitchell.
“Mother? Is that you?” Sireena asked. “What are you doing in this horrid place, and how did you free yourself from prison?”
“It was our idea to hunt down Owlboy and conquer this world!” Sigmund yelled, shaking his weapon at the stage. “And we have no intention of sharing!”
This was even more awful than Billy had imagined— the Sassafrasses thought that the Randy/Mitchell beast was their mother.
Man, she musta been a real beauty!
And to make matters worse, they had come up from Monstros to hunt him down and to take over Bradbury.
They certainly are ambitious.
Billy had to do something; he was a superhero, after all.
He ran onstage, and froze, stunned, as the auditorium erupted into applause and laughter.
They think this is part of the show, he realized. He wanted to scream at them that this wasn't a joke, that there were real live monsters in the auditorium and that they should probably take off for the exits—but how seriously would they take a kid in a mutated cow costume?
“Wait!” Sireena Sassafras screamed, coming to the edge of the stage. “This is not our beloved mother.”
Sigmund was right beside her. “What do you mean? Of course it is.”
Billy ran over to the Randy/Mitchell monster. “You might want to think about getting out of here,” he said, leaning close to the monster's belly where he guessed Mitchell's head would be.