“Oh yeah,” he said. “I know all about that.”
“Welcome to the Maple Bluffs Antique Doll Museum,” said Patricia as she waved us through the door.
We found the only other patrons—Martha, Dylan, and Drew—poring over a map on a bench near an exhibit called “TransylFUNia: The Childhood Dolls of Vlad the Impaler.”
“’Sup!” said Drew as we approached.
“We got him!” I said. I held Hammie Rex up and the little guy let out a celebratory growl. His three pups joined in. Dylan gave each of them a Mint-Caramel Choconob and Martha was so happy she barely shushed us. I gave the others a quick rundown of our SmilesCorp mission and the rampaging heroism of Stompy, Chompy, and Hatshepsut.
“So what about the giant Snuzzle-monster thing?” said Serena as she played with Stompy. “Have you guys wrapped up that whole deal yet?”
Dylan and Martha looked at each other.
“Well, there’s some fantastic news and some, uh, significantly less fantastic news,” said Martha. She indicated the map. “You see, about half a mile from the SnoozeKing Suites, the Snuzzle-creature left the main road and cut east through the woods toward Mount Sherman. The fantastic news is that there aren’t very many people out there, so it’s not going to cause much damage.”
The area on the map did look pretty empty, only a few houses here or there.
“What’s the less fantastic news?” I said.
“If we’re guessing right, this is where it’s headed,” said Dylan.
Her finger traced a straight line east over the mountain and across the woods, through Cannon Park, and right into the middle of downtown.
“The heart of Maple Bluffs,” I said. “But why?”
“The Snuzzle hive mind’s goal is still to destroy Hamstersaurus Rex, but at this point it doesn’t know where he is,” said Martha. “So it’s doing the most logical thing: searching all the places it knows he might be.”
“Meaning places where Hammie has already had a run-in with an evil Snuzzle,” said Dylan. “Assuming it chooses the most direct route, we think that means it will head to Horace Hotwater, then to the library . . . ,” said Dylan, connecting the dots on the map in a relatively straight line. She slid her finger to the final location.
“. . . And then my house,” I said.
Dylan nodded gravely.
“Any ideas on how to stop it before it gets there?” I said.
“My idea of hitting it with a gigantic golf disc was deemed impractical,” said Drew.
“I still think it was a good plan,” said Dylan, patting his hand.
“And I assume you already notified the police,” I said.
“They laughed at us,” said Dylan. “A lot.”
“As a side note, if that’s what it feels like to tell a joke, I can’t see myself ever doing it,” said Martha.
“So what do we do?” I said.
“Well, we know the Snuzzles communicate wirelessly,” said Martha. “That’s how the Saw’s virus spreads. The simplest way to stop them would be to program a second ‘good’ virus that overwrites the first one.”
“Great!” I said. “Let’s do that then. Nice work, team.”
“It’s not that simple, Sam,” said Martha. “It would probably take me weeks to code something as complex as that. Maybe longer because I’m certain the Saw put in various fail-safes and security measures to counteract such a strategy.”
“Serena,” I said, “you’re good with computers—”
“Content, not code, my friend,” said Serena. “Sorry.”
“Beefer?” I said.
“I feel like I already did my thing, which was the ninja climbing / smoke bomb stuff. Remember?” said Beefer.
“Drew, please tell me you’re a secret programming genius,” I said.
“No, but I am pretty good at making homemade candles,” said Drew. “Could that help?”
“Honestly, Sam,” said Martha, “I’m worried there’s only one person who could create a second virus in time: the Saw.”
“Perfect,” I said. “So we just have to A) figure out who that is and B) convince them to do the complete opposite of their original evil plan.”
It didn’t look good.
“Guys, there’s no reason we can’t figure out the Saw’s identity,” said Serena. “When you’re trying to get to the bottom of a mystery, sometimes it’s good to start with who you know it isn’t and then see who’s left.”
“It’s not Cid Wilkins or Rupert MacFarquhar or Gordon Renfro,” I said. “For various reasons, they each wanted Hamstersaurus Rex alive.”
“It’s not the Mind Mole, because he was unconscious until we set him free,” said Serena.
“You set the Mind Mole free?!” said Martha.
“Er, yeah, it was a whole thing,” I said, “but there’s no time to worry about that now.”
“So who else despises Hamstersaurus Rex enough that they would destroy a whole town just to get him?” said Dylan.
None of us had an answer.
“Man, I’m going to miss Maple Bluffs,” said Beefer. “It’s where I keep most of my stuff.”
Suddenly, it hit me. “Wait a second,” I said. “That’s it.”
“What’s it?” said Martha.
“It isn’t that the Saw hates Hamstersaurus Rex so much that they don’t care about Maple Bluffs,” I said. “It’s that they hate Maple Bluffs! I think I know who it is. . . .”
“Sam Dunk! How’s it going, man?” said Cid as he opened the front door. “Wow, truth be told, I thought I’d never see you again. But I’m glad you’re not still mad about . . . you know. Oh, and I see you brought Homerun and the kids! Hey, little—”
Hammie and his pups gave a simultaneous snarl and Cid jumped back.
“Out of the way, Cid,” I said as I stepped past him into the mansion’s foyer. Beefer, Serena, Martha, Dylan, and Drew all followed me inside.
“Looks like we’ve got a party on our hands,” said Cid. “Can I interest any of you in a soda? You can pick any flavor in the world you want.”
“Mmm,” said Dylan. “How about a soda that tastes like fake friendship?”
Cid blinked. “Not sure we have that,” he said. “Can I ask why you’re here?”
“I’m looking for Sarah,” I said.
“Sarah-Anne?” said Cid. “What do you want with her? She’s not impo—”
“Shut up, Cid,” said Sarah as she descended the spiral staircase clutching her beat-up old laptop.
“Ouch,” said Dylan.
“Can I help you with something or whatever?” said Sarah, who looked like she had a preemptive eye roll locked and loaded.
“I think you know why we’re here,” I said. “Don’t you, Sarah?”
“Nope,” said Sarah, crossing her arms. “No clue. Maybe you want to go down Cid’s stupid waterslide again or—”
“It’s you,” I said.
“Please. What are you even talking about?” said Sarah. “What’s me? That’s not even a—”
“This whole time I’ve been trying to figure out who the Saw is,” I said. “But it was right there in plain sight: Saw. S-A-W. Sarah-Anne Wilkins. It’s you.”
Sarah looked like she was about to say something but she didn’t.
“Hang on,” said Cid. “Is Sam right? Is that true?”
“Yes,” said Sarah.
“You tried to kill Hamstersaurus Rex?” said Cid. “But why?”
“BECAUSE!” shrieked Sarah. “Because our stupid dad and stepmom listened to you when you whined and whined and made our whole family uproot and move here for no reason! I had friends at our old school! People I cared about! They’re all gone now.”
“Oh, here we go again,” said Cid. He turned to us and shook his head. “She’s always so melodramatic.”
“And you always get everything you want! It’s completely unfair!” said Sarah. “But I knew there was one thing you wanted more than anything else: the mutant hamster you wouldn’t shut up about; the
whole point of coming to this stupid town; the reason you destroyed my life. So . . . I decided to take that thing from you.”
“I’m guessing your dad gave you an advance-release Snuzzle, too, right, Sarah?” I said. “And you hacked it into an unstoppable killing machine.”
“Wait,” said Cid. “Sarah-Anne knows how to program computers?”
“Yes,” said Sarah, waving her laptop, “which you might have actually noticed if you ever paid attention to anyone other than yourself.”
“After that, you put the hacked Snuzzle on the shelf at Tenth Street Toys: a ticking time bomb,” I said. “You even managed to erase the security footage of yourself doing it while Mr. Lomax was in the bathroom. But Hammie and I just happened to run into Gooboo a little early, before the virus could spread to any other Snuzzles. We’re lucky we did or the little guy might not have survived.”
Hammie growled.
“Look, it was nothing personal,” said Sarah. “I didn’t even know Hamstersaurus Rex! I just knew he lived in this town and I was mad at Cid and I—I did something rash. It was a mistake, okay?”
“Mad at me?” said Cid. “What did I do?”
Dylan groaned. “Man, are you self-centered.”
“Yeah,” said Beefer. “It’s like, I know he’s not even the real bad guy here, but I want to hit him so bad.”
“Sarah,” I said, “right now your virus is out of control. A deranged Snuzzle superorganism is heading through the woods toward the heart of Maple Bluffs. Once it gets to town, it will disrupt any electronics it even gets close to in its relentless quest to destroy Hamstersaurus Rex. People will get hurt.”
“Look, I never thought it would get this far!” said Sarah. “I had no idea all the Snuzzles would learn to start working together like that! I just . . . I . . .”
“It doesn’t matter what you thought,” I said. “You’re the only one who can stop it now.”
Sarah was silent again.
“I also know that deep down, you’re a good person,” I said. “You’re the one who left the mysterious note in my backpack: ‘Don’t trust him. He’s a liar.’ Remember? You were trying to warn me about Cid.”
Sarah nodded. “I just hate the way he treats people. He’s so manipulative.”
“Uh, I prefer to think of it as ‘persuasive,’” said Cid.
“Seriously, shut up, Cid,” said Serena.
“Sarah, we need you to create a cure,” said Martha. “A second virus can be transmitted wirelessly to all the infected Snuzzles to erase the first one.”
Sarah took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it. But I’m going to need a clean Snuzzle.”
“Cid’s got one he never opened,” I said. “Is there anything else you need?”
“Hmm,” said Sarah. “A soda?”
We all looked at Cid.
“You heard her,” said Beefer, cracking his knuckles.
“Wait . . . seriously?” said Cid.
Hammie Rex snarled.
Cid sighed. “What flavor?”
“Surprise me,” said Sarah. And she pulled out her laptop and started to code.
CHAPTER 20
I COULD ALMOST FEEL the ground shake as it slowly rolled down the middle of Evergreen Street: a ten-foot-tall ball of Snuzzles, all clinging to one another and moving together as some sort of cuddly cybernetic superorganism.
“WOCATING PWIMAWY TAWGET!” boomed the adorable Snuzzle voices in unison. “WOCATING PWIMAWY TAWGET!”
A shocked Maple Bluffian stood on her lawn and attempted to take video of this bizarre sight but suddenly realized her phone had stopped working. She couldn’t call the police if she wanted to. A car swerved to avoid hitting the Snuzzle-thing as it rolled past. A nearby streetlight flickered and then exploded in a shower of sparks.
“Yikes,” said Dylan.
“MY NOSE IS FUZZY-WUZZY!” said the Snuzzle-thing. We watched through Beefer’s binoculars from behind a row of recycling bins five blocks away.
“Let’s go over the plan one more time,” said Martha. “Just to be sure we’re all on the same page.” Martha held up Cid’s Snuzzle, which Sarah had managed to hack in record time. “According to Sarah, the ‘good’ virus will take about three minutes to infect the bad Snuzzles. That means Bobbo here needs to be within range for that entire time.”
“The box says these things can communicate wirelessly up to a hundred feet,” said Dylan.
“Got it,” I said. I took the Snuzzle from her. “What happens if I get out of range?”
“You’ll have to start the upload over,” said Martha. “Anyway, the Snuzzle collective’s main objective is still to locate and destroy Hamstersaurus Rex. So we need to keep him out of sight and harm’s way. That means hidden inside a PETCATRAZ Pro™ far away from the action. Guarding him will be up to me and Drew.”
“Who?” said Beefer.
“And tell me again how we stop the Snuzzle-thing from stomping on Bobbo’s head before the ‘good’ virus can finish uploading?” said Dylan.
“You, Beefer, and Serena will create a distraction,” I said. “With a little help from these three prehistoric fuzzballs!”
I held up Stompy, Chompy, and Hatshepsut. Hatshepsut was sniffing her own toes, while Stompy and Chompy were engaged in what could only be described as a head-butting contest. Hamstersaurus Rex whined in distress.
“Hammie, I know you’re worried,” I said. “You want your babies to be safe. But they can’t be babies forever. You’ve seen what they’re capable of.”
“They kicked Gordon Renfro’s butt!” said Serena.
“And destroyed a quarter of a million dollars in microscopes!” said Beefer.
“We need them to have a chance of stopping this Snuzzle-strosity once and for all,” I said.
Hamstersaurus Rex stared at his pups for a long moment. Then he gave each one of them a slobbery smooch. It was tough to let go, but the little guy had made his peace with it. Or at least he was able to swallow his fear for the moment. I extended my finger to give him the world’s tiniest high five. Then we put him inside the PETCATRAZ Pro™, locked it, and hid it in an empty recycling bin.
“Everybody ready?” I said.
“Ready!” said Dylan and Drew, accidentally in unison. They giggled. It was sickening . . . and kind of sweet. Dylan took Chompy.
“I’ll take Stompy,” said Serena. “She reminds me of a young me, but, like, as a hamster. With reptile feet.”
“Ah, Hatshepsut,” said Beefer, picking the final hamster pup up. “Such a beautiful name. I wonder who might have chosen it. Yes, I truly, truly wonder.”
“Ahem. That would be me, Kiefer,” said Martha.
“Hatshepsut,” said Beefer. “Ancient Egyptian meaning ‘Foremost of the Noble Ladies’; Hatshepsut (1507–1458 BC) was the second historically confirmed female pharaoh. Citation needed.”
“Dude, did you just memorize, word for word, the whole Wiki page where you got that?” I said.
“Shut up, Sir Stinks-a-lot,” said Beefer. “And let me tell you about Hatshepsut: Builder. Edit. Hatshepsut was a prolific builder, commissioning hundreds of—”
“We don’t have time for this,” I said. “Ready, Bobbo?”
“FWIENDSHIP MEANS CAWING,” said the Snuzzle.
“It sure does,” I said. “Move out!”
Beefer and Serena broke left. Dylan and I broke right. We took Juniper Way, which runs parallel to Evergreen Street, in the general direction of the oncoming Snuzzle-thing.
“You know, Drew’s actually kind of a cool guy,” I said. “Not just anybody would agree to fight a ball of evil robots to save a hamster’s life.”
“Thanks,” said Dylan. “But truth be told, I’m still not a hundred percent sure he actually knows what’s going on. It’s very possible he still thinks this is all part of Model Interplanetary Council.”
We both laughed. It was good to be friends again.
“Okay,” said Dylan. “Let’s cut through here.”
&n
bsp; We ducked through a backyard, back toward Evergreen Street, and crouched behind a hedge. The Snuzzle-thing wasn’t far now, only a few houses down.
“Ready, Chompy?” said Dylan.
The hamster pup growled.
“Now,” I said.
Dylan held Chompy up and he let out his loudest hamster-dino roar. It sounded exactly like Hamstersaurus Rex! Down the street, the Snuzzle-thing paused.
“. . . PWOBABLE VOCAL MATCH. PWIMAWY TAWGET DETECTED,” it said. “DESTWOY!”
The Snuzzle-thing started rapidly rolling in our direction, flattening a birdbath with a horrendous crunch.
“Wish me luck!” said Dylan.
Then she took off back the way we had come. Meanwhile I ducked behind a tree as the Snuzzle-thing rolled past, following Dylan across the yard. It was within the hundred-foot range now.
Bobbo’s big, adorable eyes rolled back in his head. “COMMENCING SECONDAWY VIWUS UPWOAD,” said Bobbo. “. . . ONE PEWCENT COMPWETE.”
I followed behind the rolling Snuzzle-thing as closely as I could while Dylan jogged ahead with Chompy. The hamster pup roared again.
“. . . EWEVEN PEWCENT COMPWETE,” said Bobbo.
Dylan sprinted across two more yards and leaped on top of a propane grill to scramble over a tall fence and into a third. A moment later, the Snuzzle-thing crashed through the fence behind her, sending planks and splinters flying. Dylan raced across the yard and hit another fence. But it was too tall to climb. She looked around and saw that there was nothing to help her get over it. Dylan jumped but she couldn’t reach the top. The Snuzzle-thing crushed a lawn chair as it bore down on her and Chompy. Dylan jumped again and missed.
“I’m cornered!” yelled Dylan. “What do I do?”
“Show the Snuzzles it’s not Hammie before that thing pancakes you!” I yelled.
“DESTWOY!” said the Snuzzle-thing.
Dylan held up Chompy, who snarled in defiance. The Snuzzle-thing froze.
“. . . TAWGET MISIDENTIFICATION,” said the Snuzzle-thing. “DISENGAGE AND WOCATE PWIMAWY TAWGET.”
Just then another dino-hamster roar rang through the neighborhood: either Stompy or Hatshepsut. Perfect timing!
Hamstersaurus Rex vs. the Cutepocalypse Page 16
