R. Stine: Monster Blood IV

Evan sighed. His left ear was normal. But his right ear throbbed and burned. He knew it must look like a red cabbage!

“What on earth happened to you?” his aunt demanded.

Evan didn’t want to describe how Conan had won a tug-of-war with his ear. He mumbled something into his plate.

“Evan got into another fight with Conan,” Kermit told his mom.

She lowered her fork. “Evan — is that true?”

Evan nodded. “It wasn’t exactly a fight.”

“I warned you to stay away from that boy,” his aunt scolded. “You really should be smart enough not to pick a fight with someone so big.”

“And Evan lost all my white mice too,” Kermit whined.

His mother’s mouth dropped open. “Those mice cost a lot of money!” She narrowed her eyes at Evan.

Evan swallowed hard. “I’m not the one who brought them outside,” he choked out.

“I left you in charge,” Kermit’s mom said sternly. “You are responsible for what goes on here when I’m away.” She scowled and waved her fork at him. “If it’s too big a job for you, Evan, I can find a grownup to come stay with Kermit.”

“No!” Evan cried.

Being responsible for Kermit was impossible. But he didn’t want to lose the job. If he didn’t earn money, he couldn’t go to sleepaway camp.

“I can handle the job,” he told his aunt.

Across from him, Kermit gobbled down mouthful after mouthful of spaghetti. The orange sauce ran down his chin.

Evan rolled several spaghetti strands on his fork, then took a big bite.

He chewed for about three seconds. Then he let out a scream. “YAAAAAAIIIII!”

His mouth was on fire! His head felt about to explode!

“Is it spicy enough?” Aunt Dee asked. “Did I put in enough hot sauce?”

Later, as Evan changed into his pajamas, Kermit typed away on his computer. Evan’s lips were swollen from the spicy spaghetti. They looked like two big salamis hanging from his face.

He gazed at himself in the dresser mirror. His ear resembled a red cabbage.

He shook his head unhappily, thinking about Conan. “I have to do something about him,” he mumbled.

Kermit spun around from his keyboard. “What did you say?”

“Conan went too far this time,” Evan grumbled bitterly. “He’s making me look like a freak.”

“Yes, you do,” Kermit agreed.

“Shut up. I didn’t ask you,” Evan snapped. “You’re not exactly Brad Pitt!”

“Who’s that?” Kermit asked.

Evan ignored him. He climbed into bed. He hit the pillow a few times, fluffing it up. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

He was too angry.

“This time Conan went too far,” he repeated, muttering to himself. “This time I have to find a way to pay him back.”

Behind his red-framed glasses, Kermit’s round black eyes lit up. “You mean revenge ?” he asked excitedly.

“Yeah. I guess,” Evan replied, settling his huge ear on the pillow. His hands were clenched into tight fists. His whole body felt tense.

“Revenge.” He repeated the word a few times. “That’s what I want. Someone has to show Conan that he cannot keep pushing everyone around and beating everyone up. Revenge…”

Kermit shut off his computer. When he turned back to Evan, he had a wide grin on his face. “I think I can help you,” he said.

“Let me show you something,” Kermit said eagerly, lowering his voice to a whisper. He pulled something out of his bottom desk drawer and brought it over to Evan’s foldout bed.

“Look.” Kermit’s grin grew wider. He handed the object to Evan.

“Hey—!” Evan cried out. “It’s so hairy!”

Evan stared at the small object. Some kind of ball, covered in thick, greasy black hair. “This is totally gross,” he told Kermit. “What is this? Why are you showing it to me?”

“It’s an egg,” Kermit said, giggling.

“Huh?” Evan nearly dropped it. He turned the hairy thing between his hands. “What kind of egg?” he asked suspiciously.

“Just an egg,” Kermit replied. “I took it from the refrigerator.”

“But—” Evan started.

“Remember, I told you about my hair-growing formula?” Kermit asked. “I said it wasn’t ready yet. But it is.”

Evan handed the hairy egg back to his cousin. It was too creepy. It was making him sick.

He swallowed. “You really can grow thick hair like that on an egg?”

Kermit nodded, grinning. He cradled the egg in his hands as if it were a precious jewel. “My hair mixture works, Evan. We can use it to pay Conan back.”

“Whoa!” Evan cried. “We can’t make him drink it and turn his mouth all hairy. That’s too horrible — even for Conan.”

“I know,” Kermit agreed. “But we can pour it on his hands, can’t we? We can give him werewolf hands! That would be pretty funny — wouldn’t it?”

Evan laughed. “Yeah. Yeah, it sure would! Let’s do it!”

Kermit carried the hairy egg back to his desk drawer. “I was going to test my hair mixture out on Dogface next,” he told Evan. “But Dogface is already hairy enough. Conan is better.”

“Much better,” Evan agreed, smiling for the first time that night. “Where is your hair mixture?”

“Don’t worry. I have it hidden safe and sound,” Kermit replied. “It will be ready when we need it.”

It took Evan hours to fall asleep. Partly because he couldn’t stop thinking of his revenge against Conan. And partly because Kermit was snoring his head off.

Evan stared up at the ceiling with his hands over his ears, unable to shut out the awful sound. A throaty gluggg glugggg, followed by a whistle.

Kermit is obnoxious even when he’s asleep, Evan thought bitterly.

When he finally fell asleep, Evan dreamed he was standing in his pajamas in Kermit’s backyard. It was night. Long shadows fell over the grass.

Peering into the back of the yard, Evan saw Kermit’s white mice. At least half a dozen of them. They had clustered around something hidden in the grass.

In the dream, Evan moved closer. And saw what had interested the lab mice.

A blue can. An open can of Monster Blood!

Evan’s mouth dropped open in horror.

The green gunk had bubbled out of the can. And the white mice were silently gobbling it. Gobbling down chunk after chunk. Their teeth gnashing up and down. Their furry bodies quivering with excitement as they ate.

As they swallowed down the sticky green goo, they grew. Evan stared in shock. The mice inflated until they were as big as dogs. Then bigger. The giant mice rose up on their hind legs.

They’re taller than me ! Evan saw, stumbling back. And so fat! They must weigh two hundred pounds!

They turned to him, gnashing their teeth hungrily. As tall as the house, the mice lurched heavily toward Evan.

One of them tossed back its head, opened its jaws wide, and let out a roar. Evan saw rows of jagged gray teeth.

And then the mice lurched heavily toward him. Their feet thudded the ground. Their dark eyes glinted in the silvery glow from the moon.

“Nooooooooo!” He opened his mouth in a long, high howl.

He raised his hands to protect himself.

The mice rose over him now. One of them lowered its head. Its jagged teeth slid around Evan’s waist. Its jaw tightened.

Evan felt its hot, sour breath stream over him.

Felt the teeth dig into his side.

And then he was being lifted up. Lifted in the giant jaws of the white mouse. The mouse clamped its jaws shut. Bit down hard.

Evan knew it was chewing him. Chewing him to pieces.

He opened his eyes. Began to lift himself from the frightening dream. Lift himself… lift himself…

And heard a tapping at Kermit’s bedroom window.