by Laura Dower
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
CHAPTER 1 - TEAM SHMEEM
CHAPTER 2 - AN ARMADA OF MINIATURE UFOs
CHAPTER 3 - ANOTHER BADVENTURE
CHAPTER 4 - YOU’RE GNATS!
CHAPTER 5 - BURN, BUGGY, BURN
CHAPTER 6 - THE AMAZE-ING TRUTH
CHAPTER 7 - IN DAMON’S ROOM
CHAPTER 8 - WE ARE SO DOOMED
CHAPTER 9 - MEGA MEGA
CHAPTER 10 - HELLO, PRINCIPAL PICKLE
CHAPTER 11 - SQUAD FOR ONE, SQUAD FOR ALL
CHAPTER 12 - BUG VS. BUG
CHAPTER 13 - BUG TORNADO
CHAPTER 14 - STOMPTACULAR
CHAPTER 15 - THE DOCTOR IS IN
CHAPTER 16 - INSECTA MANITODEA
LOOK OUT FOR BOOK 3: THE BEAST WITH 1000 EYES
GROSSET & DUNLAP
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Text copyright © 2009 by Laura Dower. Illustrations copyright © 2009 by Grosset & Dunlap. All rights reserved. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. S.A.
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For Papa.
—Laura Dower
To the hardest worker I know . . . I love you, Mom.
—Dave Schlafman
PROLOGUE
DAMON MOLLOY
I sleep like a rock. But this morning, I heard a noise so loud and so strange that I thought my house kerploded. My eyes popped open.
The first thing I saw was my six-foot poster of Chomp-O the Magnificent.
“Aaaaah!” I cried and slipped off the bed. I landed hard on the floor. Good thing it was covered with dirty laundry and tube socks.
I glared at Chomp-O.
“Thanks for scaring me, bud,” I said, pulling myself back onto the bed.
For the past few days I’ve heard noises like weird squeals and clanks coming from far away. But this noise seemed closer, like it was right in our backyard.
Mom and Dad think I need to get my ears checked. They don’t hear anything. And my sister Rachel says she hears the same stuff I do, but she’s not a reliable witness. Rachel claims there are imaginary voices coming from her stuffed dolls and bears.
My Chomp-O Souvenir Digital Clock read 5:23 AM, as in almost morning. It was way too early to start the day for real.
I scrunched down under Cowboy Pete. That’s my favorite comforter. I’ve had it since I was three, and it has holes everywhere, but Pete makes me feel safe.
I wanted to fall asleep again, but my mind was racing. I expected to hear the weird noise again. But all I heard was the gurgle of my fish tank.
There was no going back to sleep now. I clicked off the alarm clock.
There’s a very good reason why I am so freaked out by all these strange noises. It all comes down to one thing: B-Monsters.
B-Monsters are the fake-looking monsters with weird names that step on cities with their enormous claws and breathe laughing gas all over.
Lately, I have those monsters on the brain—big time.
Reason #1: I live in Riddle, otherwise known as home to the Bs. Oswald Leery lives here, too, smack-dab in the middle of Riddle. He’s the famous director who invented B-Monster Vision, a special 3-D filming process. He lives in his own creepy castle, way up on top of Nerve Mountain.
Reason #2: My parents own the Drive-O-Rama out on Route 5. That’s where all of Leery’s original B-Monster movies were screened for the first time. My grandparents were actually friends with Leery. Mom brags that she delivered me inside the Drive-O-Rama’s Snack Shack during a midnight showing of Oswald Leery’s classic, Martian Mayhem.
Reason #3: Three weeks ago, I learned the most incredible secret ever.
B-Monsters are really and truly real.
It all started at a special library screening of Slimo. I only went because Ms. Shenanigans, our librarian, said we’d meet the real Oswald Leery up close. What a scam! Instead of Leery, we got his assistant, Walter. Later, we found out that Leery never even intended to come to the screening. He just wanted to set up a few fifth-graders from Riddle Elementary—including me, Jesse Ranger, Stella Min, and Lindsey Gomez. So he had Walter recruit us for this B-Monster-butt-kicking group called Monster Squad. Walter told us Leery’s B-Monsters were coming to life each time an original movie reel was shown. He needed us to kill the B-Monsters, destroy the movie reels, and, while we were at it, save the world.
No sweat, right?
I would never have believed this were possible if I hadn’t seen a real B-Monster with my own eyes. Right after we formed the squad, we met a green, gooey one: Slimo! At one point, I was up to my eyebrows in green monster snot, and let me tell you, Slimo does not smell too good.
But together, the Monster Squad got the goo and saved our science teacher, Mr. Bunsen, at the same time. Then we shredded the original Slimo reel. Too cool!
Somehow, our differences made us work well as a group. Jesse Ranger is the brains. He’s so smart he can read a book and write a book report at the same time. Stella Min’s our squad muscle. Everyone at school calls her Ninja because she’s not afraid to take on anything; not even a slimy B-Monster. Lindsey Gomez is the squad clown. Her jokes are bad, but we all laugh. I think Lindsey is here for comic relief.
And then there’s me. I’m the B-Monster almanac. Name a movie and I can name the theme song, supporting cast, and license plate number on the getaway car.
“Damon! Get it in gear, son! School!”
Dad was calling from downstairs. The Chomp-O clock read 7:42 already. Time sure flies when I’m thinking about the Bs.
There were now only twenty-three minutes left to dress, eat, brush, and motor over to the Riddle Elementary School bus stop with my warthog of a little sister, Rachel.
I quickly got up, yanked a T-shirt over my head, and laced up my black high-tops. Walking to the door, I heard something. It stopped me cold.
Sqweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
I dashed to the window to check it out.
But there was nothing in the si
de yard. I couldn’t see the front yard. Was there something in the field behind our house? I needed time to explore.
But there was no time.
“DAMON!”
“Aaaaaaah!”
The bedroom door flung open and my little rat of a sister just stood there in her pink fleece, smirking.
“Rachel!” I grabbed for the doorknob. “The door will stick!”
“You’re in big trouble!” Rachel whined with that na-na-na voice she always gets. “Dad’s extra-grouchy and now you’re late and you better get ready—”
“And you better get out!” I yelled. I bent down, picked up a shoe, and threw it at her. Unfortunately, I missed.
Rachel stuck out her tongue. “I’m telling!” Then she made this throw-up face and pointed at my head. “Eeeeeew! There are bugs on your head!”
“Bugs?”
Just hearing the word made my pulse race.
I spun around to the mirror and held my breath.
Sure enough, two big, fat flies were sitting on my head!
Bzzzzzzzzzt! Bzzzzzzt!
A regular kid would have shaken those flies onto the floor and stomped until they were a puddle of bug. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I am not regular when it comes to bugs.
“Get them off!”
I waved my arms in the air. “OFF!”
The startled flies buzzed up to the ceiling.
That was when I saw the other flies. There must have been twenty huddled together on the outside windowpane.
“Look at the flies!” I cried. “We have to get Dad!”
“Race ya!” Rachel cried, running for my door. She darted ahead of me and pulled the door shut.
“Nooooooo!”
It was too late. The door was stuck closed. I was trapped with the bugs.
“Go get Dad,” I cried.
Bzzzzzzzzzt! Bzzzzzzt!
I looked at the ceiling and then at the window. There were now at least fifty more flies on the window in addition to the fat two inside my room. I felt woozy. The bugs appeared out of nowhere. It was just like the time Slimo appeared in my bathroom out of nowhere . . .
Gulp.
Did that mean we were about to get another B-Monster—with wings this time?
Nervously, I backed away from the window and huddled in the corner of the bedroom, far away from the flies.
“Daaaaaad!” I wailed as loudly as I could. “Help! Bug!”
All at once, my bedroom door flew open again. Dad rushed in waving a super-sized fly swatter.
“Let me at ’em!” Dad cried, swatting like a swashbuckler. Unlike me, Dad isn’t scared of anything. I guess you get superhero nerves of steel when you screen scary Bs for a living.
Dad spotted the flies on the ceiling right away. Without missing a beat, he raised the swatter and—
THWACK!
One swat. Two flies. Now that’s skill.
They dropped dead onto my bed.
“Come on, Damon.” Dad sighed as he picked up the flattened bugs between his fingertips. “Time for school.”
CHAPTER 1
TEAM SHMEEM
“Just serve the ball already!” someone called out to me from across the gym. I flashed a smile at Pat and Seamus, my two best buddies in class. Then I turned around and pretended to pull down my gym shorts.
“Hey, Mr. Molloy!” Coach Dunne barked. He blew his whistle hard. “I’m watching you. No funny stuff!”
I tossed the volleyball over my head and jumped up to slam my serve.
Swooosh!
My volleyball soared up and over the net, dropping straight to the floor right between two kids.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” I shouted. I went to high-five Pat, but then, at the last minute, I pulled my hand away.
“Ha!” I cried. He always fell for that one.
Pat grabbed my shirt hard like he wanted to wrestle me.
“Hey! Don’t touch the merchandise,” I said, brushing off my T-shirt. The front of today’s shirt read Jokeman.
I moved from serving position to the front of the court. On the opposite side, facing me, was Tate the Great, the biggest kid in our entire class. Tate eats three sandwiches and drinks five milks every day for lunch. But whenever we’re in gym class, I eat him for lunch on the court. I saw him staring at me. I stared right back, like a sumo.
“Mr. Molloy!” Coach called over. “I’d like you to step out of the game for a while, please. Tap Miss Min on your way in.”
I held up my hands. “Huh? What did I do?” I said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tate the Great. He grinned and waved at me.
“Buh-bye, Jokeman,” Tate said.
“I’ll be back,” I muttered under my breath. Then I headed for Stella. “Yo, Ninja,” I said and reached out to tap her shoulder. “Coach says it’s your turn.”
Stella growled at me. “Don’t even think about touching me, Molloy. I bite.”
“Yeah,” I growled back. “And you smell, too.” Then I tapped her on the shoulder anyway. She couldn’t do anything about it because Coach was watching.
From my seat on the sidelines, I watched Jesse Ranger and his friend Garth Gable goof around at the net. Those two try, but they couldn’t volley their way out of a duffel bag. They definitely couldn’t get Tate to go down.
A serve zipped over the net like a bullet. Someone from the other side whacked it back. It was headed for Garth!
Oh, great, I thought. I buried my face in my hands. This would be too painful to watch. But the incredible happened. Garth set up the ball—perfectly. Ranger came down on it like a hammer. It spiked over the net, right into Tate’s face!
He didn’t see that coming.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!”
Everyone cheered, including me. Ever since this Monster Squad thing started, I’ve been trying to be more of a team player. It doesn’t come easy. But that cheer just flew right out of me.
“Hey, Damon,” Ranger said, running over. “Don’t forget the squad meeting right after school.”
“Right,” I said. He rushed away before I had a chance to tell him about the flies and the noises in my bedroom that morning. I’d save it for the meeting.
On the way to the playground that afternoon, Pat and Seamus saw me. Ever since this whole Monster Squad thing started, it’s been a little awkward with them.
“Yo!” I called out, waving. “What’s up?”
“What’s up with you, Damon?” Seamus cried. “We were looking for you! Can Pat and I come over and play Laser Bikes? You got it, right?”
“Yes!” I cried. My parents just bought me a Z-Pack with all these games, including Laser Bikes. Pat and Seamus hadn’t seen it yet.
“Come over!” I said. Then I caught myself. “Oh, wait. I can’t do it today. I have this . . . thing.”
“Thing?” Pat said, mocking me.
“Then text us later,” Seamus said with a shrug.
“Later,” I grumbled. Once again I had to choose between Monster Squad and my buddies. Pat and Seamus walked away without me.
I swung my body up and over the monkey bars. When I hang by my knees and all the blood rushes to my head, I can think better. I hung there for a few minutes, watching the kids come out of school. Ranger, Stella, and Lindsey were nowhere to be seen.
Had I gotten the meeting place wrong?
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT.
What was that?
I flipped off the bar and landed on all fours.
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT.
Not ten feet from me was a swarm of black and yellow bees.
“Beeeeeeeees!”
I waved my arms all over the place and wailed. A couple of kids on the swings gave me dirty looks. Couldn’t they see the insect attack that was taking place?
Without the rest of the Monster Squad to back me up, all I could do was run.
I thought I could shake the bees with some fast footwork, but they shadowed me all the way home. Before I knew it, I was standing under the Cicada L
ane sign at my corner.
It figures that I live on a street named after a bug.
For some reason, my neighborhood was a ghost town. Crusty old Mr. Wombat wasn’t mowing his lawn. The Parker twins weren’t on their swing set. Even Wacko, the neighborhood dog, was missing in action.
But the bees were still here!
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT.
I raced up our driveway. Where was Mom’s car? I thought hard. She probably took Rachel to ballet class. And Dad was probably at the Drive-O-Rama, working as usual.
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT.
I dug into my jeans’ pocket for my house key. The bugs began to buzz around my face and neck. It seemed like there were more of them by the second!
Finally, the key slid into the lock.
But it wouldn’t twist!
“GO AWAY, I DON’T LIKE YOU!” I yelled at the bees. I was nearly hysterical. Then I heard another noise!
Sqweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
Come on key, I thought. Open! OPEN!
Sqweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
Frantically, I pushed the house door open and threw my book bag onto our hall bench. The door slammed behind me. The bees were locked out—at least for now.
SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
I sprinted upstairs to my bedroom window for a better view. My eyes scanned the field.
Nothing to the right . . .
Nothing down the middle . . .
There!
I gasped at a broad shadow stretched across the left side of the field.
What was that?
The shadow was way too big for anything normal in my backyard. It was so tall it seemed to touch the sky. There were long black things sticking up into the air. There was a loud, awful crunch . . .
Hold on! Was that chewing? Were those antennae?
Suddenly the black thing moved closer and I could see exactly what it was.
Oh no!
Out there in my backyard was a living, breathing, giant BUG!
CHAPTER 2
