by Guy Bass
Table of Contents
Dedication
Copyright Page
Title Page
THE PROBLEM WITH DINKIN DINGS
PARK PERIL
HIDDEN DANGER DETECTION GLASSES
FEAR FREE
DOORWAY TO DIMENSION 9
DINKIN, MEET DANGER
THE DANGER DILEMMA
HOW TO DEAL WITH DANGER
THE PERFECT PLAN
BULLY-B-GONE
A JOB FOR THE FRIGHTENING THINGS
DANGER’S SECRET
ATTACK OF THE ACTUALLY FRIGHTENING THINGS
BONES
WHAT IS THAT SMELL?
THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING DINKIN
To Jane, Tom, Lauren, and everyone at Stripes for always going the extra mile and beyond! ~ GB
To little Leni Frances and her great-grandma Corke ~ PW
Check out Dinkin’s Bebo page at: www.bebo.com/dinkindings
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Text copyright © 2010 Guy Bass. Illustrations copyright © 2010 Pete Williamson. Published in Great Britain in 2010 by Stripes Publishing. First published in the United States in 2011 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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eISBN : 978-1-101-51333-0
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THE PROBLEM WITH DINKIN DINGS
Dinkin Dings was afraid of everything. And not just actual scary things, like being flushed down a man-eating toilet or fired out of a giant cannon into an alligator-filled wading pool. No, he was afraid of pretty much completely and totally everything.
Well, almost everything. There were just three things Dinkin wasn’t afraid of:1. The monster under his bed
2. The skeleton in his closet
3. The ghost outside his window
In fact, they were his best friends.
He called them The Frightening Things.
PARK PERIL
Time: 10:22 AM
Temperature: 73.4°F
Terror: 7,694 scariness pounds
“Dinkin, your dad’s back—it’s time to go!” shouted Dinkin’s mom from downstairs.
“Go without me!” cried Dinkin from his bed. Two point nine seconds later he heard the sound of footsteps stomping angrily up the stairs. He pulled his blanket up to his chin just as his mother pushed open the door.
“What on earth are you doing back in bed?” asked Mrs. Dings.
“I’m—I’m sick!” replied Dinkin. “Don’t get too close, I’m highly contagious!”
“That’s funny, you were okay two minutes ago,” said Mrs. Dings suspiciously. “In fact, you were perfectly fine before I mentioned the idea of going to the park.”
“It’s Purple Fungus Fever . . . the tropical kind!” said Dinkin, wiping his brow. “I don’t know how long I’ve got left . . . ”
“Dinkin, I told you as soon as your father got back from the optometrist, we were going to the park, and we are—purple fungus or no purple fungus,” said Mrs. Dings, which made Dinkin worry that he might actually have Purple Fungus Fever. “It is a lovely, sunny day. It is a Sunday. This is what families do on lovely, sunny Sundays.”
“You can’t take me to the park!” screamed Dinkin. “I’m too young to die!”
Dinkin had always been afraid of parks. Aside from all the obvious, titanic terrors (grass, trees, ponds, people, etc.), parks were riddled with hidden horrors. Dinkin’s top five park fears were:
1) Prehistoric Monster Attack (According to Dinkin, tree-rannosauruses had been hiding in trees for millions of years. Parks were especially tree-rannosaurus friendly as they offered plenty of passing snacks in the shape of children looking for their lost Frisbees.)
2) Tidal Waves
3) Tornadoes
4) Tornado-Waves (half wet, half windy, all terrifying)
5) Superpsychotic Robo-Poodles (Specifically the Mark 7 model, which look exactly like a normal poodle but include the Atomic Yap upgrade.)
“Oh, Dinkin, you’re just being silly again. Now, get out of bed this minute,” said Mrs. Dings impatiently as she pulled back Dinkin’s blanket. “Oh, Dinkin! Is that your bike lock?” she cried. Sure enough, Dinkin’s right arm was chained to his headboard with a bicycle lock.
“Actually, it’s my Personal Peril Prevention Padlock,” said Dinkin proudly.
“Dinkin Danger Dings,” said Mrs. Dings (using Dinkin’s full name to show she meant business), “I’m only going to ask you once—where is the key to that lock?”
Dinkin shrugged and let out an involuntary burp.
“Please don’t tell me you ate it . . . ” sighed his mom.
HIDDEN DANGER DETECTION GLASSES
Hacksaw hazard: 3,256 scariness pounds
Tree-rannosaurus terror: 6,455 scariness pounds
Peeved parent peril: 8,893 scariness pounds
It took seventeen minutes of prodding with a metal coat hanger for Mrs. Dings to open the Personal Peril Prevention Padlock. As Dinkin frequently chained himself to things to get out of doing scary stuff, his mom had become quite a skillful lock-picker. By the time she popped the lock, Mr. Dings was poking his head around the door.
“Well? What do you think of my glasses?” he said, tapping his new eyewear. Dinkin was immediately nervous. Who knew what terrifyingly sinister purpose these new glasses served? At the very least, they seemed to have long-range laser lenses!
“Very stylish, Mr. Dings,” said Mrs. Dings. “And now that you’re back, there’s nothing to stop us from going to the park . . . right, Dinkin? So get out of those pajamas and into some clothes.”
“But—,” began Dinkin.
“And no buts!” said his mother.
The trip to the park seemed to take forever, giving Dinkin plenty of time to panic about what horrifying fate awaited him. His mother had pushed him into the car so quickly that he had no time to pack his Tornado-Trapping Trousers, his poodleparalyzing Drowsy Dog Device, or his lon
g-range Dino-Discoverer. By the time they arrived at the park, Dinkin was beside himself with fear.
“AAA-AAAH!” he screamed as his mother prodded him out of the car. “Look at all the unseen dangers! We’re doomed!
Doomed!”
“Dinkin, how can you be worried about something if you can’t even see it?” said Mrs. Dings. “Can’t you at least wait until we’re attacked by tree-rannosauruses before you panic?”
“But by then it’ll be too late!” yelled Dinkin. “Danger is everywhere!”
“Actually, Dink, there is a way to check for hidden dangers,” said Mr. Dings, taking off his glasses and winking at Mrs. Dings. “A special, secret way. In fact, it’s really the only way to know for sure . . . But no, you’re probably not interested.”
“What do you mean? Of course I’m interested!” screamed Dinkin. “Tell me, quick, before the tornado-wave comes!”
“Well, okay, but keep it to yourself or everyone will want a pair,” said Mr. Dings, holding out his glasses. “It’s these.”
“Your new glasses?” said Dinkin and Mrs. Dings together.
“Glasses? These aren’t glasses!” laughed Mr. Dings. “They just look like glasses so as not to arouse suspicion. These are my, uh, Hidden Danger Detection Glasses.”
“Hidden . . . Danger . . . Detection Glasses?” repeated Dinkin slowly.
“I didn’t know they’d started selling those at the optometrist’s . . . ,” giggled Mrs. Dings.
“Well, I had to pay extra, of course, but it was worth it,” said Mr. Dings. “The Hidden Danger Detection Glasses reveal every scary thing that’s nearby, however well hidden. Anything even slightly unnerving shows up as clear as day!”
“And they . . . they really work?” said Dinkin, wondering why on earth his dad hadn’t mentioned them before.
“Oh, yes! These are top of the line. I’ve just had a thorough scan of the park and we seem to be in the clear. Not one hidden danger in sight. Here, you try them,” said Mr. Dings, handing his glasses to Dinkin. Every instinct told Dinkin to be suspicious of them . . . but what if they really did work? He wanted more than anything to know exactly what scariness surrounded him. Slowly, with uncertainty, he put on the glasses.
“Everything looks . . . the same,” he said, almost disappointed. “And a bit blurry.”
“Exactly! That’s because there isn’t any scariness here! The blurriness just means everything is . . . extra safe. Lucky for us, huh?” said his dad.
Dinkin looked around, paying close attention to the trees, clouds, and any passing poodles. The Hidden Danger Detection Glasses didn’t reveal anything! Not one even slightly terrifying concealed horror. Dinkin turned even paler than normal.
“Are you all right, Dinkin?” asked his mom.
“I don’t know—I feel a bit . . . funny,” answered a confused Dinkin. “Do you know what I think? I think maybe you don’t feel as scared,” smiled Mr. Dings.
“Not . . . scared?” whispered Dinkin, peering into the sky to make sure there were no signs of tornado-waves. “Maybe . . .”
Mr. and Mrs. Dings looked a little amazed, and then wide, delighted smiles spread across their faces.
“So,” said Mr. Dings, “now what?”
FEAR FREE
Chances of the cat from across the street actually being a Secret Saber-Toothed Cyber-Tiger from Somewhere near Saturn: 0.00002% Chances of Dinkin’s dresser actually being man-eating: 0.0001% Chances of there being nothing actually scary in this chapter at all: 0%
Dinkin and his parents spent the next two hours having what normal people living normal lives might describe as “a nice time.” Thanks to the Hidden Danger Detection Glasses, Dinkin could constantly scan the park for concealed menaces, but oddly, the glasses didn’t reveal anything terrifying at all. For the first time since he could remember, Dinkin had nothing to be scared of. He found himself with a lot of time on his hands, and no idea how to spend it.
“Hey, Dinkin, want to wander down to that little pond over there?” asked Mr. Dings, pointing to a shallow pool full of swimming children.
“What? Are you crazy? The could be anything in there! Mutated mer-monsters, buckets of brain-melting toxic ooze, even a whole school of vampiranhas!”
“Well, check with the glasses—then you can know for sure,” replied his dad.
Dinkin peered through the glasses at the pond, sure that there would be some horrifying horrors hiding beneath the water. But it just looked like a pond—tranquil, quiet, and more than a little inviting.
“No hidden dangers,” said Dinkin.
“Great! Let’s get in and swim!” said Mr. Dings.
“S-s-swim?” squeaked Dinkin.
“Sure, what’s there to be afraid of?” laughed Mr. Dings, taking off his shoes and socks and rolling up his pant legs. Dinkin watched his dad rush down to the pond and splash around like a three-year-old. Slowly, Dinkin began to creep toward the water.
“I don’t believe it . . . ,” whispered Mrs. Dings as Dinkin stood on the edge of the water. A moment later, he took off his shoes and socks, and stuck in a toe. And so it was that for the first time in his life, Dinkin Dings actually swam . . . without screaming even once.
As they drove back to the house after an almost panic-free afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Dings couldn’t believe that the solution to Dinkin’s fear of everything might be as simple as a pair of glasses. He’d never seemed so un-terrified!
Dinkin just stared out the car window at the normally terrifying world outside. Finally he said, “It’s weird, though . . . in all this time, the Hidden Danger Detection Glasses haven’t shown anything terrifying at all.”
“Well, Dink,” smiled his dad. “Maybe the world’s not as scary as you thought.”
As it happened, when they got home, Dinkin spotted three things that would have normally made him scream in terror:
1) MISS WHISKERS (THE CAT FROM ACROSS THE STREET)—or as Dinkin knew her, the Secret Saber-Toothed Cyber-Tiger from Somewhere near Saturn
2) A LADYBUG—part lady, part bug . . . disguised as a beetle
3) HIS BICYCLE—It had been sitting on the front porch since Dinkin had gotten it for his birthday. Dinkin was absolutely convinced that his bike had been taken over by the Wheeliens—power-hungry Alien Invaders who used their ability to control bicycles to try and conquer the galaxy.
But the Hidden Danger Detection Glasses assured him that there was nothing to worry about. Dinkin had been fear-free for a total of three hours and forty-nine minutes, and he had to admit that it felt pretty good.
“Hey, Dink, why don’t you hang on to those glasses?” said his dad, smiling at Mrs. Dings. “I’m happy to wear my old pair for now. It’s worth it for a bit of peace and quiet.”
“Really? Thanks!” said Dinkin as his mom and dad hugged for no reason whatsoever. Dinkin shrugged and made his way upstairs, anxious to check his room for concealed dangers. When he pushed open the door and looked around, he saw:
a table (just a plain, old table)
a dresser (clearly not man-eating)
a mirror (definitely not a doorway to another dimension)
Dinkin breathed a sigh of relief. It was as if, with the glasses, he didn’t have to be scared of anything at all! He stepped confidently into his room and caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. The Hidden Danger Detection Glasses made him look really different, especially since everything was a little blurred. Dinkin took off the glasses and rubbed his eyes. After a moment he looked back at his reflection, but something didn’t look right. After 1.3 seconds he realized what it was . . . His reflection was still wearing glasses.
DOORWAY TO DIMENSION 9
Soda at 87% flatness
Cookies at 72.6% sogginess
Terror at 8,779 scariness pounds
“AA-AAAA-AAAAH!” screamed Dinkin in horror, dropping the glasses and running out of the room! “Mom, Dad, help!”
“What is it? What’s going on?” said Dinkin’s dad as Dinkin raced downs
tairs and into the kitchen. “Hey, why did you take off your glasses?”
“D-d-danger!” squealed Dinkin. “There was . . . There was someone in my mirror! A duplicate! A double! He looked exactly like me, except he was wearing glasses!”
“Oh, Dink, that’s just your reflection, you silly dilly,” chuckled Mr. Dings. “You must have been wearing your glasses when you looked in the mirror!”
“I’d taken them off!” cried Dinkin, diving under the table. “It wasn’t my reflection, it was a double . . . a dark, doom-bringing double from Dimension 9!”
“Dimension 9?” asked Mrs. Dings.
“The same-but-different dimension! Where everything looks like normal but is different in a million, menacing ways!” cried Dinkin. “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of Dimension 9?”
“I didn’t even know about dimensions one to eight,” sighed Mrs. Dings.
It took two hours and fifty-five seconds for Mr. and Mrs. Dings to convince Dinkin that the only way to really know for sure whether his reflection was a double from Dimension 9 was to take another look. Against his better judgment, Dinkin found himself back in front of his mirror, with his eyes closed tight. His parents stood on either side of the mirror, making encouraging noises.
“There is nothing to be afraid of, I promise—just take a peek,” said his mom.
