by Guy Bass
“Edgar!” screamed Dinkin as he scrambled to his feet. He watched in horror as the monster popped off Edgar’s sleeping head and reunited the giant skeleton’s head with its body.
“ABOUT TIME!” said the skeleton, clambering back up the stairs toward Dinkin. “LOOKS LIKE WE’RE BACK ON TRACK—SO YOU CAN REALLY SCREAM NOW, IF YOU’D LIKE.”
“Th-thanks very much,” squeaked Dinkin, and took a deep breath.
WHAT IS THAT SMELL?
Terror at 9,889 scariness pounds
After screaming his most terrified scream to date, Dinkin rushed into his room and slammed the door. Danger was huddled in the corner of the room, his teeth chattering with terror. “Well, don’t just stand there—The Actually Frightening Things are right outside!” cried Dinkin, looking around for somewhere to hide. The only place big enough for both of them was the closet. He grabbed Danger and they both clambered inside and shut the door.
“Wha-what’s that smell?” whispered Danger, holding his nose.
“Shh!” whispered Dinkin. “That’s just my Bully-B-Gone. Would you rather live with the smell, or go out there and face your Actually Frightening Things?”
“Live with the smell! Live with the smell!” whispered Danger. A second later, the bedroom door burst open. Dinkin heard the monster snarl loudly as it crashed into the room, followed by the bony creak of the skeleton’s joints.
“COME OUT, COME OUT, WHEREVER YOU ARE,” said the skeleton. “WE HAVEN’T FINISHED WITH YOU YET.”
The monster roared in rage, and Dinkin heard his bed being thrown across the room.
“HEY! THAT NEARLY HIT ME!” shouted the skeleton, slapping the monster on the head. “IF YOU’RE GOING TO THROW THINGS, COULD YOU AT LEAST TRY TO AIM AWAY FROM—WAIT, DO YOU HEAR . . . IS THAT BREATHING?”
Dinkin and Danger held their breath. They waited for 5.3 seconds, but in their all-consuming terror, it felt like at least 6.4. Then:
TAP-TAP-TAP!
“BOO! FOUND YOU!” said the skeleton, pulling the closet door off its hinges. Without any warning, the closet was lifted into the air and tipped forward. Dinkin and Danger (and the entire contents of the closet) fell out onto the floor. Dinkin looked up to see the monster holding the closet in his claws and the skeleton and ghost looming over them.
“WHAT FUN! TWO VICTIMS FOR THE PRICE OF ONE!” said the skeleton. “I THINK WE’RE GOING TO ENJOY IT IN THIS DIMENSION. IN FACT, I THINK WE MIGHT STAY FOREVER!”
The Actually Frightening Things burst into hideous laughter, but after a moment, the skeleton stopped laughing and began to shake. The monster dropped Dinkin’s closet and turned an even greener shade of green, and the ghost began to whirl and churn queasily in the air.
“WHAT . . . IS THAT SMELL?” asked the skeleton.
“S-sorry, that’s my Bully-B-Gone spray.” whimpered Dinkin. “It’s a b-bit stinky.”
“IT’S WORSE THAN ‘STINKY’!” cried the skeleton, falling to its knees. “IT SMELLS LIKE . . . LIKE
The monster roared in pain and collapsed against the wall, while the ghost’s cloudy body began to thin out and fade into nothing!
“What’s happening?” asked Danger.
“They don’t look very good,” said Dinkin. “What’s made them—wait a minute . . . ”
“The Bully-B-Gone!” cried Dinkin and Danger together.
“The bottle—it’s in my pants! Help me look!” yelled Dinkin. He and Danger scrambled around in the pile of clothes as The Actually Frightening Things flailed in agony. Dinkin ducked as the monster’s tail whipped over his head, and Danger ducked out of the way of an angry blast of sleeping gas! Then, finally, Danger lifted the pants out of the pile, and reached into the pocket.
“I’ve got it!” he cried, pulling out the bottle of Bully-B-Gone. He threw it to Dinkin, who (despite his fear of flying objects) managed to catch the bottle. He aimed it in the direction of The Actually Frightening Things.
“Be gone!” he shouted, and started spraying. Never in the history of spraying had anyone sprayed so desperately. He covered the skeleton, monster, and ghost in equal quantities of foul-smelling liquid, and as he did so, the monstrous Frightening Things began to change. In fact, they began to shrink.
“HELP US! WE’RE MELTING!” screeched the skeleton. “NO, IT’S WORSE! WE’RE BECOMING . . . UN-FRIGHTENING!”
The shrieks and roars of The Actually Frightening Things quickly faded into tiny squeaks as they continued to shrink and change but Dinkin didn’t stop spraying until the bottle of Bully-B-Gone was empty. Finally, he and Danger were staring at three of the least scary creatures they had ever seen. They were plump, cheerful, and wide-eyed, and so small that they could hold them in their hands. In fact, they looked almost . . . cute. “You did it! You made them unfrightening!” said Danger, leaning down to inspect the transformed Frightening Things.
“I did?” said Dinkin. He picked up the tiny monster in his hand and stroked its belly. It giggled and then let out a little burp. He shook his head in disbelief and stared at the empty bottle in his hand. “I am definitely making more of this.”
THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING DINKIN
Temperature: 42.8°F
Outlook: overcast, light breeze,
impending dread
After checking on his mom and dad (who were still sleeping soundly, thanks to the ghost’s sleeping breath), Dinkin and his dimensional double gathered The (equally unconscious) Frightening Things in his bedroom. They even managed to carry Arthur back upstairs after finding him floating dazedly around the garage. Then they did their best to clean up the house, but after several hours, it still looked like a tornado had hit it. Finally, as dawn began to break, they put the bathrobe-covered mirror back where it belonged.
“I still can’t believe my Bully-B-Gone worked on your Frightening Things,” said Dinkin as they tried to put the closet the right way up. “I wish it had that effect on Boris Wack.”
“I’m sorry about all the trouble I got you into, Dinkin,” said Danger. “And all this mess. What are you going to tell your mom and dad?”
“I’m going to tell them that The Frightening Things from Dimension 9 came out of my mirror and wrecked the house. What else would I tell them?” replied Dinkin. “So, do you think you’re going to be okay with your Frightening Things now?”
“Better than okay! Actually, I think we might even end up being friends,” answered Danger, scooping up the tiny skeleton, ghost, and monster in his hands.
Dinkin glanced at his dozing Frightening Things and smiled. “That’d be nice.”
“Well, I’d better go. My dimension’s probably missing all my death defying, daring deeds,” said Danger. “Bye, Dinkin. Maybe we’ll meet up again sometime.”
“Not if I can help it,” mumbled Dinkin. He spotted the Hidden Danger Detection Glasses, somehow still intact on his table, and picked them up. He handed them to Danger and said, “Here, just in case you need a new pair. Be careful, though—they’re supposed to detect danger, but as far as I can tell, all they do is make it impossible to see things clearly.”
“Uh, thanks,” said Danger, pulling the bathrobe off the mirror. He was about to step back into his dimension, when he paused.
“Just one question,” he said. “What’s it really like being scared of everything?”
Dinkin thought hard. Finally, he shrugged and said, “Terrifying.”
Danger gave him a sympathetic smile, and then disappeared into the mirror.
Dinkin breathed a huge sigh of relief and threw his bathrobe back over the mirror. He couldn’t risk opening the doorway to Dimension 9 ever again. He had to get rid of the mirror once and for all. In fact, he had to get rid of every mirror in the house. No, the street! No, the whole world! No one was safe as long as one mirror remained.
rchive.
