Thrills and Chills

by R. L. Stine

  “Awwwwk. Ptooey! Brilliant! Brilliant! Come here and take a bow. I’ll peck your head off!”

  Babbling Brooke looked confused. “If we take out all the seats,” she said, “where would we hide them? I guess we could hide them on the bus, right?”

  Luke Puke grabbed his belly. “All this talk is making me feel sick,” he said. “You know I get bus sick.” Then he jumped up and ran from the room.

  “I think I know what we should do,” Handy Sandy said. “Get there really early tomorrow morning—before the Perfects show up. And pour water all over the front seats. There’s no way they’ll want to sit on them then.”

  “That’s an awesome idea!” I exclaimed, and clapped Sandy on the back. “That’s the kind of smart idea I would think of!”

  So that’s what we did.

  We all trooped to the bus stop before dawn. It was still pitch-black out. The sun wouldn’t rise for at least an hour.

  We crept up to the bus, which was dark and silent.

  Cranky Frankie carried a bucket of water and climbed the steps onto the bus. Then he tilted the bucket and let all the water pour onto the front seats.

  I climbed up behind him. “Good job,” I whispered.

  And then we heard a shout from the back of the bus. “Hey, good morning! Isn’t it a perfect morning?”

  I raised my gaze—and saw Patty and Peter Perfect. They were smiling and waving to us from the back row of the bus.

  “We got here early,” Peter Perfect shouted. “Because we wanted to get the back seats.”

  “The back seats are the most fun!” Patty Perfect called. “All those bumps and turns. Peter and I are already having the best time because we got the back seats!”

  “I guess we score even more points,” Peter added.

  I let out a sigh and took a seat by the window. Cranky Frankie tossed the empty bucket off the bus and sat down beside me, shaking his head.

  The rest of our gang climbed on and found seats. And a few minutes later, the five new kids showed up and squeezed onto the bus.

  When everyone was on board, Handy Sandy jumped to her feet. “I’m going to judge the contest to see who has the best time,” she said. “Because I’m handy with numbers.”

  “Who’s winning?” Windy Winston demanded.

  “We’re starting today from zero, so the Perfect twins have twenty points,” Sandy answered. “No one else has any.”

  The Perfect twins jumped up and cheered for themselves. They stopped when a young man in a gray uniform climbed onto the bus.

  He tipped his cap. “I’m Andrew, your driver,” he said. “Good morning, everyone!”

  “Good morning, Andrew!” we called back.

  “Let’s get going to Six Thrills!” he said.

  And we all cheered.

  Andrew turned and lowered himself into the driver’s seat.

  Then froze for a moment.

  He blinked several times.

  “Hey!” he cried! “Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Who poured water all over my seat?”

  He jumped up and turned to us angrily. His face darkened to red and an angry scowl spread over it.

  “Who did it? Who soaked my driver’s seat in water?” he demanded.

  Beside me, Cranky Frankie lowered his head and tried to duck out of sight. “Oh wow,” he murmured. “I did the wrong seat.”

  Andrew furiously slammed his cap against the bus door. “Well, good luck to you kids,” he shouted. “I’m not driving you anywhere!”

  Then he stomped off the bus and disappeared down the street.

  Wacky Jackie jumped to her feet. “Are we having fun yet?” she asked.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Three days later, we were all on the big yellow school bus, and we were finally on our way to Six Thrills Amusement Park.

  This time, we decided to do nothing. Nothing at all. We sat in our seats quietly and behaved like angels so we could actually make it to the park.

  Patty and Peter Perfect were sitting in the middle seats—they said the middle seats were the most fun. They were still winning the contest. But I knew things would change once we reached the park.

  I knew our guys could have the best time of anyone because we always have the best time. Even when our teacher, Mrs. Hooping-Koff, keeps us after school for having too good of a time in class.

  I turned to Babbling Brooke, who sat beside me. “What’s your favorite ride at Six Thrills?” I asked.

  Brooke thought for a few seconds. “I guess the Tilt-a-Tilt,” she said. “I like the way you get tilted and then when you think you’re through tilting, you get tilted some more.”

  “Do you know what ride makes me barf?” Luke Puke asked.

  I turned to him. “No . . . what ride?”

  “This bus ride,” he said. He made an ULP sound and cupped his hands over his mouth.

  “Do you know what’s the most fun?” Windy Winston said. “The Swirl-a-Fly Twirl High ’n’ Float Away ride.”

  “I’ve never been on it,” I said. “What does it do?”

  “A rope comes down and lifts you off the ground,” Winston answered. “Then it whirls you high above the ground and flings you into a tree. You climb down the trunk, grab another rope, and are flung back into the air and you have no idea where you’re gonna land.”

  “Whooa! Hold on!” Adam Bomb exclaimed. “Why is that the most fun ride?”

  “Because I just made it up,” Winston said.

  “Winston, you’re seriously waaay weird,” Nasty Nancy said. “And I don’t mean that as a compliment.”

  “It takes one to know one!” Winston shot back.

  “Hey, no arguing!” the driver called from the front.

  “No arguing,” Adam Bomb repeated, staring at Nasty Nancy and Windy Winston. “We want to make it to the park this time so we can start having a better time than the rest of you.”

  “Peter and I are having the best time sitting in the middle row!” Patty Perfect shouted. “Too bad you all can’t sit in the middle row with us! We each have a window seat and room to spread our legs”

  The bus suddenly lurched hard and threw us all back against our seats as it came to a stop.

  The driver opened the door and turned back to us. “Here you go, people!” he shouted. “Last stop. Six Thrills Amusement Park. Have a thrilling day, everyone!”

  We all pushed and shoved our way down the narrow bus aisle and jumped off. It was a sunny, beautiful, warm day. I followed everyone to the entrance booth and could feel my heart start to patter with excitement.

  We pulled out our free passes and jammed together in front of the ticket booth. “Hey, there’s no one in here,” Brett Sweat said.

  The booth was dark and empty.

  “How do we get in?” Adam Bomb asked. “There’s nobody here to let us inside.”

  Adam’s face was as red as a tomato. I hoped he wasn’t about to explode.

  Finally, a man in a white uniform carrying a long broom appeared at the side of the booth. He looked surprised to see us.

  “We won free passes,” Adam Bomb explained. “Can you let us in?”

  The man shook his head. “No can do . . . sorry. The park is closed on Mondays.”

  BRAINY JANEY’S BRAIN-TEASER MATH QUIZ

  While you’re waiting to see if the kids ever get to Six Thrills Amusement Park, you can take Brainy Janey’s super-fun math quiz. (Her answers are at the end. Don’t peek!)

  QUESTIONS

  1. If I have two ham sandwiches and you give me four ham sandwiches, what will you eat for lunch?

  2. If Train A leaves the station at 2:00 going 60 miles per hour, and Train B leaves the station at 3:00 going 100 miles per hour, why did you decide to take the bus?

  3. How do you write the number 600 in numbers?

  4. If I divide a chicken into three parts, and I take away one part, will it rain on Tuesday?

  5. A salmon swims upstream at 20 miles per hour and downstream at 30 miles per hour. How long will it take it to get to C
incinnati?

  6. Four + infinity =

  7. If an apple falls from an apple tree every six minutes, then what?

  8. If I have two peanut butter sandwiches and you have two jelly sandwiches, what happened to your ham sandwiches?

  ANSWERS

  1. Pizza.

  2. I don’t know.

  3. 600 in numbers.

  4. The forecast calls for partly cloudy.

  5. Beats me.

  6. A very high number.

  7. Then I guess I’d better be careful where I walk.

  8. I ate the ham sandwiches and then I swam upstream to Cincinnati.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Nasty Nancy here. I’m continuing the story, whether you like it or not.

  My four friends and I were happy to meet the other ten kids who call themselves the Garbage Pail Kids. It’s great to know there are other kids in town who are normal and good-looking like us.

  Of course, they’re not as normal or as good-looking as we are.

  We are the real Garbage Pail Kids. We live together in a big old house behind a row of garbage cans. We have no parents, but we get along just fine without them.

  I call those other ten kids the Garbage Pail Punk-Faced-Brat-Nose-Dim-Bulb-Lame-Brain-Snot-Head Kids.

  And I mean it in a good way.

  I know I’m being too kind to them. But I’m a kind person. I can never understand why idiots and dumbheads call me Nasty Nancy.

  Anyway, a week later, we all climbed on the yellow school bus once again to try to get to Six Thrills Amusement Park. Those two freaks, the Perfect twins, decided to stand up this time. They said it was “the most fun way to ride a bus.”

  The Perfects wanted extra points for standing up. But the contest scorekeeper, the girl named Handy Sandy, refused. She waved a little notepad in the air. “I’m not keeping score this time until we get to the park,” she said.

  I sat next to Brett Sweat. Guess what? He was sweating like a lawn sprinkler.

  He turned to me. “Nancy, is it hot in here—or is it just me?”

  I pinched two fingers over my nose. “Brett, I have an awesome Christmas present for you,” I said.

  His eyes went wide. “A present? For me? What is it?”

  “Deodorant,” I said.

  He wiped his face off on the sleeve of my T-shirt.

  I’m hoping my four friends and I have the best time of everyone and win the contest. But I was worried. Last year, we went to Six Thrills Amusement Park and it was a bust.

  I cried all the way home.

  I’m very sensitive. Want to make something of it?

  I’ll punch your lights out with one hand tied behind my back.

  I know, you think you’re just reading a book. You think you can say anything you like about me. You think you’re perfectly safe.

  But I know where you live.

  So don’t look around. Just keep reading.

  But remember. I’m giving you a break. I won’t always be this nice.

  “Where’s the driver?” the kid named Cranky Frankie yelled from the back of the bus. “We’ve been trying to get to Six Thrills for weeks!”

  A woman stepped onto the bus and waved to everyone with a big smile. She carried a picnic basket in one hand and an umbrella in the other.

  “Are you the driver?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No, I’m Mrs. Hooping-Koff. I’m their teacher,” she said, motioning to the other kids.

  A bald man in a baggy brown suit stepped up behind her. “For those who don’t know him, this is Principal Grunt,” Mrs. Hooping-Koff shouted. “That isn’t his real name. But we all call him that because he only grunts. For the life of us, we can’t understand a word he says!”

  The principal nodded. “Grunnnt grunt grunnnnt!” he exclaimed.

  “Principal Grunt and I are at Smellville Middle School,” the teacher continued. “Where do you kids go to school?”

  “We’re at Urrrrrp Academy,” Nat Nerd told her.

  “Someone burped while they were naming our school,” I explained.

  “Grunt gruntgruntgrunt,” the principal said.

  “How come the two of you are here?” Cranky Frankie called to them.

  “We are your chaperones,” Mrs. Hooping-Koff answered. “Does anyone know what ‘chaperone’ means?”

  The girl named Brainy Janey raised her hand. “It means ‘hat’ in Spanglish,” she said. “The person who wears the hat is always the leader.”

  “Grunnnnnt,” the principal said.

  “That’s not quite right,” Mrs. Hooping-Koff replied. “We two chaperones are going with you to make sure you have a good time—but not a really good time.”

  “Peter and I are going to have the best time,” Patty Perfect said.

  “Standing up on the bus is the best,” Peter Perfect chimed in. “Patty and I are going to get extra credit for standing.”

  “No. No you’re not,” Handy Sandy said, waving her notepad in the air.

  Mrs. Hooping-Koff grabbed the pad from her. “I’ll be the scorekeeper,” she said. “That’s a chaperone’s job.”

  She and the principal took seats in the middle so they could keep an eye on all of us. “I’m giving Peter and Patty Perfect ten extra points,” she announced, scribbling on the notepad. “Look how well groomed they are.”

  Big smiles burst across the Perfect twins’ faces. “We always try to look perfect,” Patty said.

  “Patty and I brushed each other’s hair this morning,” Peter said.

  Patty grinned. “And we didn’t even use brushes.”

  I wanted to gag.

  Do we really have to spend the whole day with those two?

  Please. Somebody put me out of my misery.

  “WHOOOAH!”

  Everyone let out a cry as the bus jerked forward. We fell back in our seats and watched as we pulled away from the curb.

  “Finally!” I cried. “We’re on our way!”

  Brett Sweat wiped his face on my sleeve. “Is it hot in here or is it me?” he asked.

  The bus squealed and swerved. We were all tossed from one side to the other.

  “Does everyone have their seat belts fastened?” Mrs. Hooping-Koff asked.

  I searched around on the seat. “There aren’t any!” I called out.

  “Then just pretend,” she replied.

  Seriously?

  Another squeal. Another shriek of the brakes. Another terrifying jolt.

  The bus bounced off something and then roared back into traffic.

  Some of the kids were screaming.

  I shut my eyes!

  The driver gave a long horn blast—and the bus swerved in a crazy zigzag.

  I kept my eyes shut and gripped the back of the seat in front of me with both hands.

  I heard a crash. Shattering glass. A hard bump. The bus roared on.

  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, we came to a hard, teeth-clamping stop. I froze for a long moment, afraid to open my eyes.

  “We’re here!” someone shouted. “Yaaaaay. We made it. We’re here.”

  I slowly opened my eyes. Then stood up on shaky legs and started to the front.

  Who was the driver? Who was that grinning kid sitting behind the wheel?

  It was the girl they call Wacky Jackie.

  Mrs. Hooping-Koff’s eyes bulged. “You? YOU were the one driving?!” she gasped.

  Jackie nodded. “I got tired of waiting.”

  “But—but—but—” the teacher sputtered.

  “I always wondered if I could drive a bus!” Jackie said.

  I flashed her a thumbs-up. “Good job,” I said.

  I was being sarcastic, but I don’t think she noticed.

  I followed everyone off the bus and into the parking lot. The bumpers and fenders of the bus were totally battered and bent. I was just glad to be in one piece.

  We all began to walk toward the ticket booth. But then we stopped—and read the sign above the entrance:

 
EIGHT SCREAMS AMUSEMENT PARK

  That’s right. Wacky Jackie took us to the wrong park.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Adam Bomb again, taking over the telling of this story. And what a story it’s been. But I’m happy to say, one week later, we all arrived at Six Thrills Amusement Park. With a real bus driver, too. We paraded through the turnstiles at the front gate and stood at the entryway, staring at all the rides and restaurants and attractions.

  “We’re here! We’re here!” Babbling Brooke gushed. Then she leaped into the air and began a cheer:

  “WE’RE HERE! WE’RE HERE!

  “WE CAME FROM FAR AND

  NEAR!

  “GIVE ME AN F!

  “GIVE ME A U!

  “GIVE ME AN N-N!

  “WHAT HAVE WE GOT?

  “FUNN!

  “YAAAAY!”

  Brooke did a flying cartwheel and landed on the top of her skull. Handy Sandy and Nervous Rex carried her to the medical building.

  Mrs. Hooping-Koff scratched her head. “F-U-N-N?” she murmured.

  “You know, Brooke has never been a very good speller,” I said. “But she has a lot of spirit.”

  “Grunnnnnt,” our principal agreed.

  Mrs. Hooping-Koff turned and gazed at Rob Slob. “Rob, how did you get that mud all over your shoes?”

  Rob looked down. “I’m not wearing shoes,” he said.

  “Let’s get on a ride!” Windy Winston shouted. “We can’t stand here all day.”

  “Patty and I are having the best time standing here!” Peter Perfect exclaimed.

  “We love standing here,” his sister agreed. “Mrs. Hooping-Koff, give us ten points for that.”

  Mrs. Hooping-Koff took out the little scorepad and scribbled down ten points for the Perfects. She thinks they’re perfect and will do anything they say.

  “There’s the Tilt-a-Tilt,” Brett Sweat said, pointing. Even his pointer finger was sweating! “Let’s do it!”

  “I don’t like the Tilt-a-Tilt,” Luke Puke said. “It’s too tilty. I get Tilt-a-Sick.”

  “How about the Buzz Saw?” Windy Winston asked. “It’s like a log ride. Your log rolls down the river, a buzz saw cuts it in half, and you swim to the finish.”

  “We can’t do a water ride,” Nat Nerd said. “I forgot my bathing suit.”