Crash! Bang! Boo!

by Joe McGee

  FOR JESSICA, ALWAYS

  And for our own

  Junior Monster Scouts:

  Zach, Ainsley, Shane, Logan,

  Braeden, and Sawyer

  ****

  Finally, for the late, great

  Stan Lee (1922-2018)

  The more you read, the better you ’re

  going to become as a storyteller.

  -Stan Lee

  Thank you, Stan, for filling the world

  with heroic stories.

  • THE SCOUTS •

  VAMPYRA may be a vampire, but that doesn’t mean she wants your blood. Gross! In fact, she doesn’t even like ketchup! She loves gymnastics, especially cartwheels, and one of her favorite things is hanging upside down . . . even when she’s not a bat. She loves garlic in her food and sleeps in past noon, preferring the nighttime over the day. She lives in Castle Dracula with her mom, dad (Dracula), and aunts, who are always after her to brush her fangs and clean her cape.

  WOLFY and his family live high in the mountains above Castle Dracula, where they can get the best view of the moon. He likes to hike and play in the creek and gaze at the stars. He especially likes to fetch sticks with his dad, Wolf Man, and go on family pack runs, even if he has to put up with all of his little brothers and sisters. They’re always howling when he tries to talk! Mom says he has his father’s fur. Boy, is he proud of that!

  FRANKY STEIN has always been bigger than the other monsters. But it’s not just his body that’s big. It’s his brain and his heart as well. He has plenty of hugs and smiles to go around. His dad, Frankenstein, is the scoutmaster, and one of Franky’s favorite things is his well-worn Junior Monster Scout handbook. One day Franky is going to be a scoutmaster, like his dad. But for now . . . he wants a puppy. Dad says he’ll make Franky one soon. Mom says Franky has to keep his workshop clean for a week first.

  CHAPTER

  1

  “COME ON, FRANKY!” SAID VAMPYRA. “We’re missing all the fun!”

  “It sounds like a howling good time!” said Wolfy.

  “One more bolt to tighten,” said Franky. “There! Now my windup monster is all ready for the village’s first ever Monster Mash competition!”

  The villagers had been so thankful for the Junior Monster Scouts helping them before, that the mayor insisted the Junior Monster Scouts join them for the village’s birthday celebration. To show the Junior Monster Scouts that the villagers were no longer afraid of the monsters (it had all been a big misunderstanding), the mayor declared a special contest: a Monster Mash competition. Whoever created the coolest, the craziest, the most wonderful windup monster would win the first place ribbon and a hand-carved cuckoo clock, made by none other than the mayor himself!

  Franky set his wrench down and stepped back. His windup mechanical monster hopped up and down, clapping its claws and waving its tentacles.

  “That looks great, Franky!” said Wolfy.

  “First place ribbon, here I come,” said Franky. “That cuckoo clock will look great in my room!”

  “Ribbon, schmibbon,” said Vampyra. “Party, here I come!”

  “I can smell the popcorn from all the way up here!” said Wolfy.

  “Smell it all you want,” said Franky. “I plan on tasting it! Oh, sweet butter, delicious salt . . .”

  He closed his eyes and spun in a circle.

  “Not if I get there first and eat it all!” teased Vampyra. She flipped her cape around herself and turned into a bat.

  Vampyra, Wolfy, and Franky flew, ran, and charged down the road away from Dracula’s Castle, hooting, hollering, and howling. They were going to a party tonight, and they were very excited.

  Parties are very fun. And birthday parties are even more fun. Only, this birthday party was not for just one person. . . . It was for the entire village! The village was one hundred fifty years old today, and they were having a great big birthday party. One hundred fifty is a lot of years, and so there was a lot of celebrating.

  Do you know who was not celebrating? Do you know who did not like the pop, pop, POP of the popcorn machine? Or the bright lights strung from the tents and buildings? Or the marching band? Or the merry-go-round? Or the sugary scent of fresh birthday cake?

  That’s right . . . Baron Von Grump. He did not like any of those things.

  “Caw! Caw!”

  And neither did Edgar, his pet crow.

  Baron Von Grump folded his arms. He scrunched his big, black, bushy eyebrows. He glared out his window from the top of the rickety Old Windmill.

  “Merry-go-round,” he muttered. “There’s nothing merry about it!”

  He picked up his violin and set the bow to the strings, but when he tried to play, the popcorn POPPED!

  He tried again. Pop-pop-POP! Then the music of the merry-go-round spun round and round, right in through his window.

  He marched to the other side of the room, took a deep breath, set the bow to the strings, and . . . Pop-pop-POP! Merry-go-round music. BOOM-BOOM-BOOM and trumpets trumpeting, horns blaring as the marching band marched through the village.

  “Noise, noise, noise, NOISE!” he bellowed.

  A long, high-pitched whistling sounded outside his window, and before he could close the shutters, a single firecracker landed inside his room.

  “This is the last—”

  POP! BANG! WHIZ!

  “Caw!” said Edgar, flapping straight out the window.

  “Straw,” grumbled Baron Von Grump, collapsing into his chair.

  CHAPTER

  2

  VAMPYRA, WOLFY, AND FRANKY HAD not made it very far when a loud BOOM shook the treetops.

  “Was that thunder?” asked Wolfy.

  A flash of light lit up the night sky.

  “Was that lightning?” asked Vampyra.

  A sharp crack and crackle sent jagged sparks across the sky.

  “Are those fireworks?” said Franky.

  BOOM! FLASH! CRACK! CRACKLE!

  “I don’t think that’s thunder,” said Franky.

  “Or lightning,” Wolfy said.

  “Or fireworks,” said Vampyra.

  Franky, Wolfy, and Vampyra were right. It was not thunder, or lightning, or fireworks. And it was not coming from the cloudy sky. It was coming from the tallest tower of Castle Dracula, where Franky’s grandfather Doctor Frankenstein lived.

  A bright green flash of light burst out of the top window of the tower.

  “Help!” someone yelled.

  “That sounded like my cousin Igor Junior!” said Franky.

  “It sounds like he needs our help,” said Wolfy.

  “If someone is in trouble, better get there on the double!” Vampyra said.

  Franky, Wolfy, and Vampyra put their hands together and said, “Junior Monster Scouts to the rescue! Let’s go!”

  They turned right back around and raced up the road, back to Castle Dracula and away from the party.

  • • •

  But not everyone heard the cry for help. Not everyone thought something dangerous might be happening. In fact, the villagers thought the bright lights and loud booms and flashes and crackling crackles were a wonderful, spectacular fireworks show.

  They oohed. They aahed. They clapped their hands and whistled.

  “What a splendid birthday gift for our village!” said the mayor. “Strike up the band! Sound the flügelhorns!” He cleared his throat and fluffed out his magnificent mustache. “Friends, neighbors, villagers one and all, won’t you join me in song?”

  Hat in hand, the mayor began.

  “Happy birthday to us, happy birthday to us . . .”

  The whole village joined in. You can join in too, but not yet. We’ll come back to the birthday song in a moment. Right now, Igor Junior needs some help.

&n
bsp; CHAPTER

  3

  THE JUNIOR MONSTER SCOUTS RAN up and up and up and up and up and up the stairs. There were a lot of stairs. There were so many stairs that they had to stop halfway to catch their breath.

  “How many stairs are there!?” said Wolfy. “How tall is this tower?”

  See? It was a very tall tower with a lot of stairs.

  “I’m dizzy,” said Franky.

  And they were spiral stairs. That means that they went in a circle, up and up and up and . . . you get the idea.

  When they got to the top of the stairs, they found the door to Doctor Frankenstein’s laboratory closed. There was a sign on the door. It read:

  AWAY ON MAD SCIENTIST BUSINESS. PLEASE RETURN TOMORROW.

  “Nobody is home,” said Vampyra.

  Wolfy scratched his head. “But we heard—”

  “HELP!”

  “That is Igor Junior!” said Franky. “And he’s inside!”

  Franky gripped the doorknob and pulled. The door did not budge. He grabbed it with both hands and pulled harder. It still did not budge. Wolfy wrapped his arms around Franky, and they both pulled. It budged a teeny bit. Vampyra wrapped her arms around Wolfy, and all three of them pulled. It budged a teeny bit more.

  “Igor Junior!” called Franky.

  “Franky?” said Igor Junior from the other side of the door.

  “Push the door!” Franky said.

  He did. He pushed. They pulled. And then . . . the door popped right open, spilling them all into one tangled pile of monsters.

  “We heard your cry for help!” said Vampyra.

  “And we rushed here to help you!” said Franky.

  “Up a lot of steps,” Wolfy grumbled.

  Igor Junior wrung his hands. “Thank you, Junior Monster Scouts, but I’m in so much trouble! I don’t know if you can help. I don’t know what to do!”

  “What’s wrong?” said Franky.

  “Yeah,” said Vampyra. “What’s the problem?”

  Igor Junior pointed back into the laboratory. “Look,” he said.

  Doctor Frankenstein’s laboratory was an absolute disaster. Imagine what your room would look like if you pulled out every toy you had and spread them all over the floor. Then you threw your clothes around your room. Then you pulled every sheet, pillow, blanket, and stuffed animal off your bed. Then you tossed everything up in the air and let it lie where it fell. That would be a disaster. But it would still not be as bad as what the laboratory looked like.

  Tables were turned over. Beakers and vials and jars lay on the floor. Gears ground and groaned. Strange coils hissed and spit sparks. Smoke drifted through the room, and green flashes of light pulsed. A jagged bolt of lightning struck the opening in the ceiling, and crackling arcs of electricity raced down the chains dangling from above.

  It was a disaster. A dangerous disaster.

  “What happened?” said Franky.

  Igor Junior buried his face in his hands and moaned.

  “Pop and Grandpa told me,” Igor Junior said. “They told me and told me and told me.”

  “What did they tell you?” Vampyra said.

  “They said, ‘Igor Junior, don’t touch that lever.’ ”

  “Let me guess . . . ,” said Wolfy.

  “Yep,” said Igor Junior. “I touched that lever.”

  CHAPTER

  4

  BARON VON GRUMP STUFFED COTTON in his ears. He put on earmuffs. He wrapped a scarf around the earmuffs, but still he could not stop all of that noise, noise, noise, NOISE from getting through.

  “Stop oohing,” he said. “Stop aahing. Stop blaring those flügelhorns and pounding your drums. And above all . . . STOP. SINGING!”

  “Caw, caw!” said Edgar.

  “What did you say?” asked Baron Von Grump. He unwound the scarf. He took off the earmuffs. He unplugged the cotton.

  “Caw, caw!” repeated Edgar.

  First Baron Von Grump’s big, black, bushy right eyebrow raised. Then his left. Then, ever so slowly, his lips wriggled into a sly and sinister grin. It was the kind of grin someone gets when they are up to no good.

  “That is an excellent idea, Edgar,” he said.

  “Caw, caw!”

  Baron Von Grump clapped his hands together and chuckled. He was definitely up to no good.

  “Come, my feathered friend,” he said to Edgar. “Let us end this celebration once and for all.”

  Baron Von Grump and Edgar went down the rickety stairs of the rickety windmill. They went through the crooked door and down the winding trail to a small shack. There was a sign on the door. It read:

  VILLAGE POWER

  DO NOT ENTER

  THIS MEANS YOU!

  Do you think that Baron Von Grump listened?

  You’re right; he did not. He did not listen at all. He did not listen, he did not follow instructions, and he certainly was not about to behave himself. He marched right past the sign, right through the door, and right into the small room.

  Inside the room was a giant machine. It was the size of a refrigerator, with lots of dials and buttons and one big lever. One side of the lever read: ON. The other side read: OFF.

  The switch was in the ON position.

  Baron Von Grump gripped the lever.

  “Caw, caw!” said Edgar.

  “Yes, Edgar,” said Baron Von Grump. “On three!”

  “Caw . . . caw . . . caw!”

  Baron Von Grump pulled the lever.

  • • •

  Do you remember what we were singing a couple of chapters ago? We were singing “Happy Birthday” to the village. Me, you, the mayor, the villagers—we were all singing. There were flügelhorns and the rest of the band. Remember? Okay, good. Let’s try this again.

  “Happy birthday to us, happy birthday to us, happy birthday, dear village, happy birthday to—”

  Suddenly the lights went out. The popcorn machine stopped popping. The merry-go-round stopped going round. Everything was dark and quiet and suddenly not-so-merry.

  The party had ground to a halt, and I think you know why.

  I’m pretty sure you know who was behind it. But the villagers? They did not.

  They had no idea why there was no power. Who might have pulled a lever they were not supposed to pull? Who wanted an end to their party celebrations?

  But we know who it was. We know exactly who it was, and his initials are B. V. G.

  CHAPTER

  5

  FRANKY, WOLFY, VAMPYRA, AND IGOR Junior stood at the open doorway to Doctor Frankenstein’s laboratory.

  Thunder boomed, lightning crackled, and the whole room was a hissing, spitting, sparking, grinding, flashing mess!

  “So all we have to do is pull that lever back to where it was in the first place?” said Franky.

  “Yes,” said Igor Junior.

  “That lever all the way on the other side of the room?” said Wolfy.

  “Yes,” groaned Igor Junior.

  “Then why didn’t you just do that in the first place?” Vampyra said.

  “Because I was scared,” said Igor Junior.

  “I don’t blame you,” Wolfy mumbled.

  Franky pulled out his copy of the Junior Monster Scout handbook and opened to the Scout Laws.

  “ ‘It may be scary,’ ” read Franky, “ ‘but a Junior Monster Scout is brave.’ ”

  “ ‘And that means doing what is right,’ ” said Vampyra, reading over his shoulder.

  “ ‘Even if they are afraid,’ ” finished Wolfy.

  “ ‘Especially if they are afraid,’ ” Franky said. “ ‘That’s what being brave is.’ ”

  “You’ll help me?” said Igor Junior.

  “Of course!” said Vampyra.

  Igor Junior puffed out his chest. “Then let’s go!” he said.

  He reached back and took Franky’s hand. Franky took Vampyra’s hand. Vampyra took Wolfy’s hand, and Wolfy . . . Well, I suppose he would have held your hand if you were there with
the Junior Monster Scouts, but you were not. So Wolfy did not hold anyone’s hand but Vampyra’s.

  Slowly but surely they crept through the laboratory. Past the hissing steam pipe. Over the sparking wire. Under the grinding gears. Around the spitting cauldron. And right up to the flashing machine with the big red lever.

  “Well, this is the one,” said Igor Junior.

  “That wasn’t so bad,” said Wolfy.

  Thunder boomed overhead, and an arc of lightning lit up the sky. All four of them jumped. It was loud, and it was scary. But the Junior Monster Scouts and Igor Junior were being brave. Remember? That means doing something even when you are afraid. They were certainly afraid, but they were going to help Igor Junior, and this time Igor Junior wasn’t going to pull that lever. . . . He was going to push it, right back to where it belonged.

  “Go ahead,” Vampyra said.

  “You can do it,” said Wolfy.

  Igor Junior wiggled his fingers. He squared his shoulders. He took a deep breath. He reached out for the lever—

  “Wait!” said Franky. He held up the Junior Monster Scout handbook and said . . .

  CHAPTER

  6

  WE’LL GET BACK TO WHAT Franky said. But for now we are going to go to the village, where everything was dark and confusing and no longer fun.

  “What’s going on?” asked a villager.

  “Who turned out the lights?” another villager asked.

  “Why did the popcorn stop popping?” asked a third. “How will we have our Monster Mash competition?”

  “Oh, man,” groaned a fourth villager. “I really wanted that cuckoo clock.”

  “Everyone stay calm,” said the mayor. “I am sure there is a perfectly good explanation for this.”

  And there was an explanation, but the only person it was good for was Baron Von Grump.

  • • •

  Baron Von Grump trudged back to his crooked windmill with an equally crooked grin on his face.