Stranger and Stranger

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Stranger and Stranger Page 1

by Rob Reger




  Rob Reger and Jessica Gruner

  Emily the Strange®

  Stranger and Stranger

  Illustrated by

  Rob Reger and Buzz Parker

  For the twins Stevee and Aimee

  Contents

  Begin Reading

  Other Books by Rob Reger and Jessica Gruner

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Self-portrait with Boxes, Cats, and Procrastination.

  May 27

  procrastination units, 13; new diaries started, 1; boxes packed, 0

  Am starting a new diary as a way to put off packing all my stuff into boxes like Mom has been asking and asking and asking me to do for the past five days. Am not super happy about moving again. Was kind of enjoying the town of Blandindulle. Yes, it may be bland and dull, but I’ve finally made it my own. Had settled into a strict routine of late-night prowls around town with the cats, daredevil skateboarding, virtuo-spastic guitar sessions on the roof, crazed feral mural art, and a touch of harmless public prankery. Summer is practically here, the nights are balmy, and I am young, and I would much rather be up to unauthorized, outdoor-style mischief than sitting in my room packing boxes as instructed.

  Later

  Am back. Got interrupted by knock on bedroom door. Mom. Assured her I was packing. Am not packing. Am headed outside.

  Mom—beginning her moving-out meltdown!

  Later

  Am loitering in bushes outside Zenith’s Junk Shoppe and feeling terrible future-nostalgia for this place and its lovely, lovely Dumpsters, which have given me so many treasures over the past several months.

  Am having trouble keeping Sabbath quiet. He has a crush on Zenith’s cat, Fiona, and wants the world to know. Oh—here comes Zenith now—

  Later

  Am now hunkered down behind someone’s garage. Zenith is torn up that we are moving. Not just because I was his best customer, but because he has a sad, unrequited crush on my golem. Had to advise him that Raven was unlikely to call him from our new town, and that he should really set his sights on a human woman instead.

  We let Sabbath and Fiona enjoy some alone time while I took a last tour around the shop.

  ME: Thanks for letting me do all my shopping in the middle of the night, man.

  ZENITH: Yeah, well, what other time of day are ya gonna need a replacement control grid for a tube amp?

  ME: Or a new electrostatic ion thruster for my favorite slingshot?

  Z: Or a black-light painting of Marlene Dietrich?

  Yeah, Zenith’s been good to me. Will have to think of a nice going-away present for him.

  Goodbye to Zenith and Fiona!

  May 28

  procrastination units, 23; boxes packed, 7; cats discombobulated, 4

  The Packing Effort has begun, but slowly. No thanks to the cats. They know what it means when the cardboard boxes come out and are even less excited to be moving than I am. Am enduring a lot of passive-aggressive feline behavior right now. For example:

  Violent headbutts from Sabbath are making it tough for me to write in my journal. Legibly, anyway.

  Miles has shredded 17 cardboard boxes. Now I have to go scrounge through the supermarket Dumpsters for 17 more.

  Any boxes left open and empty (and not shredded by Miles) have been disgustingly defiled by NeeChee.

  Mystery has developed an uncanny talent for falling asleep on whatever it is I’m planning to pack next.

  When not doing any of the above, all four have been milling about the room yelling “Now! Now! Now!!!!” at me.

  Whatever it is that they want to happen “Now” is totally unclear.

  Bowls of kibble and water have been spilled all over the floor. I refuse to say what is happening with the cat box.

  Mom thinks I am not feeding the cats, since they are going to her and demanding handouts of snack treats.

  Rolls of packing tape have been chewed to sticky shreds. Have had to tie up my boxes with twine like they did in thee oldene dayes.

  Am not enjoying peaceful four-feline blanket while I sleep. No, the felines are spending our prime nightmare hours clawing my face and biting my scalp instead.

  Drastic increase in number of cat-puke puddles.

  Cat-puke puddles contain more of my hair than they really should.

  Unspeakable stench on 73% of my belongings.

  Later

  Am completely sick of my room, my stuff, and all those empty boxes, which do nothing but mock me. Have consulted the Magic 8 Ball for advice, and the answer was very clear:

  Have instructed Raven to pack up all the boxes. I really don’t expect much on that front. Nevertheless, am heading outside for blessed prankery and general neighborhood goodbyes.

  Later

  Cats and I are sprawled out on the steps of City Hall, pretending to be protesting something. We’d probably be attracting a lot of attention if it weren’t the middle of the night.

  Am glad that Blandindulle’s population has an early bedtime. Am future-nostalgic for that aspect of this place. Am afraid we may end up in a town that prides itself on having a “thriving nightlife.” BLLLLLLEAARG*%HHH!!!!!

  OK, am moving on to pranktime. Am planning a little revenge on Drew and Sherry—these ridiculous lowballs down the block who like to drive around town in the middle of the night with their car absolutely full of smoke, narrowly missing feline pedestrians. Will show them what fear tastes like!!!

  Later

  Have just recovered from long fit of intense belly-busting laughter at Drew and Sherry’s expense. It was PERFECT!!! I’d made a special batch of invisible ink that only shows up when it’s exposed to smoke. Then I used it to paint sinister faces on their car windows. Then I followed them on my skateboard so I wouldn’t miss any of the action. As soon as the air inside the car got foul enough, POP, the spooky faces appeared on all the windows; and then AIEEEEE, Drew and Sherry freaked out, as expected; and then CRASH, they promptly banged into a phone pole. I called in an anonymous tip to the police and bailed.

  Life is good here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I do not want to move.

  Later—back in my disaster of a bedroom

  Returned to find that Raven had packed all the empty boxes inside one another like Russian nesting dolls.

  Man, Raven truly is the Amelia Bedelia of the golem world. Am irked at self for not giving better instructions.

  Later

  Have started to catalog and dismantle all the science projects in progress in my room. Here are some of the more interesting ones:

  Prototype of English-to-Catlish translator.

  Method of connecting my Magic 8 Ball to electronic readerboards across the nation, so that everyone can get the benefits of its amazing advice.

  Partially completed sun-spigot, which I hope will allow me to keep plants alive in my sunproof bedroom.

  Tests of various waste products (cat hair, lint, eyelashes, dirty-dish scrapings, dead flies…) and their suitability as building materials when highly compressed.

  Jar of liquid black rock that I got from my ancestral home. Have been carefully pondering potential uses for it, as it is too precious to experiment with frivolously.

  Superior haircolor for Mom so she can quit the haircolor-related panics she goes into every three weeks or so when the pink isn’t pink enough or the blue isn’t blue enough.

  No-drip candlestick. It’s made of a special metal I created myself, which is so phenomenally dense, so incredibly heavy, that no matter how you try to tilt this candlestick, it always points straight down toward the center of the earth. Goodbye, unwanted wax drips! Unfortunately, I would need a crane to lift it, and if dropped it would probably fall straight through the floorboards and bury itsel
f in substrata rock far beneath the earth’s surface. Small details to iron out.

  Theremin windchime.

  Improvement on the cat-cams I’m already using. It’s great to be able to review what the cats have seen and done each day, but I need cat-cams that also deliver painful shocks to anyone (besides me) who touches one of my Posse.

  Treadmill that the cats can use to generate electricity and start earning their keep around here. The treadmill works great; I just can’t figure out how to motivate cats to use it.

  Coding that will give Raven a little more initiative. I mean, I realize she is just a golem and can only do what she’s programmed for. And I appreciate how she follows my every command, I really do. The thing is, it takes FOREVER to give her all the commands she needs for even the simplest tasks. It’s one thing to get her to hold a cavity resonator steady for me while I spit-shine it; but ask her to tidy up the room, and it’s just blank stares and “Huhhhhhhh?” All I’m saying is, it would be nice to get a more holistic approach to the whole command thing, and I wouldn’t mind if she could maybe interpret hints and suggestions. You know, I’m only one person. I could use some help around here!!

  Laundry detergent that blackens even the whitest of clothing.

  Duplication device. Just THINK of the mischief I can get into when this little beauty is finally functional. Ah, someday!!!!! (rubbing hands together, cackling madly)

  The CATS’ plan for the treadmill.

  Later

  Have had a brainwave!!!!! Am going to donate all of my belongings to science and begin anew after the move. YESSSSSSS! ANEW!!!!!!!!!!! This solves the entire packing problem!!!!! Will call Science tomorrow and have them back a truck up to the house. Am feeling very brilliant.

  Sun is rising; time for bed.

  May 29

  procrastination units, 123; boxes packed, 8; belongings donated to science, 0

  Am not sure what I was thinking yesterday. Am donating NOTHING. It is ALL precious, and it ALL comes!

  Later

  Only three days left before we leave, and I still haven’t come up with an idea for a Master Prank. It’s always been a matter of personal pride for me to pull off at least one jaw-dropping prank of great magnitude in every town I live in, one that the townspeople will talk about for years. Am sorry to say that Blandindulle pranking has been more about quantity than quality.

  Sigh. Am heading out to look for inspiration. Will report back later.

  3 minutes later

  Was intercepted by Mom at the front door and have returned to my room to continue packing. Will need to use bedroom window to escape house next time.

  Must…continue…packing…

  Later

  Am back from brief (Very Brief) trip outdoors. Was intercepted by Mom under my bedroom window. She has given me a thorough shaming. It was very cute!! She has not put the effort into a real down-home shaming in a long time. Am determined to make it worth her while and pack at least one box before the night is over.

  Later

  Finished packing one box, then was filled with glorious sense of accomplishment, then rode that sense of accomplishment right out the basement window and into the beautiful night. Have spent a few hours tooling around town with the cats. Am now hiding out behind the hardware store watching Miles and NeeChee cooperatively stalk rodents. It is hilariously vicious, yet nonproductive, since I always intervene before things turn deadly. Best moments are when Sabbath unwittingly blows their cover, and then they cooperatively give him a beatdown. AHAHHAHAHHAHHAHAH!

  Am going to miss this place. Have spent months learning where the good Dumpsters and rodent lairs are. And getting to know the neighbors’ shortcomings and vulnerabilities, so I can prank them more effectively. And handcrafting wondrous pathways through all their backyards.

  Oh man, I am REEEEEEALLY going to miss my wondrous handcrafted pathways!!!!! Have documented the highlights for future inspiration:

  Specially camouflaged ladder made of tree boughs that leads over my back fence into the Gehweilers’ yard.

  Tunnel leading from the Gehweilers’ yard, going completely under the Tolentinos’ yard (and their DOG), and exiting in the Hernandezes’ yard.

  Seemingly random pile of oak barrels forming a lovely staircase that leads out of the Hernandezes’ yard and into the Rogerses’ yard.

  Rope ladder behind the Rogerses’ garage that leads to the Brookses’ yard.

  Series of small footholds cut into the Brookses’ fence enabling E-Z access into the Pedersens’ yard.

  Strategic placement of dense shrubbery throughout the Pedersens’ yard that provides perfect cover for anyone wishing to slip unnoticed into the Fontaines’ yard.

  Fake rock hidden under the Fontaines’ deck that contains a key to their basement door.

  Pathway through the piles of antiques in the Fontaines’ basement leading to the front of the house, where only a sheet of plywood blocks the way outside.

  Baseball hidden in long grass in the Fontaines’ front yard, providing a handy excuse for anyone who might be caught exploring there.

  Elaborate mechanism, installed inside hollow tree in the Turners’ front yard and easily activated by dropping in a baseball, that opens the Turners’ back gate.

  Series of trellises and drainpipes that provide a quick way up over the Turners’ back fence and onto the Batines’ roof.

  Covert catapult (disguised as elaborate satellite dish) useful for launching oneself from the Batines’ roof onto the Bacas’ roof.

  Zipline leading from the Bacas’ roof back into my own yard.

  Later

  AMAZING. Was just walking past Drew and Sherry’s house and saw them come out, so I hid, then followed on my skateboard when they drove away. Would you believe it only took them five minutes to fill their car with smoke, AGAIN? And then the spooky faces popped out at them, AGAIN; and I heard them both scream, AGAIN; then they ran the car up on the sidewalk and banged into a stop sign.

  Called the police and bailed.

  Have laughed so hard, I pretty much did the equivalent of a million sit-ups.

  Dude. Drew and Sherry are not bright.

  May 30

  procrastination units, 1,123; Master Pranks dreamed up, still 0; boxes packed, still 8; admonishment units, 18

  Have not packed a single thing today. Managed for a while to give Mom the illusion that I was packing by zooming all over the house, collecting my treasured belongings from various hidey-holes under floorboards, behind false panels, and inside the walls. Then had to endure a mild Mom freakout when she discovered that my tally of packed boxes had not risen at all and that, ACTUALLY, I was busy drawing up blueprints of the brilliant trapdoors and booby traps I’d built in the house over the last several months.

  She was not happy.

  MOM: I see what you’re doing, E. You’re trying to bamboozle me into believing you’re finally packing your stuff, when actually you’re just…drawing it.

  ME: Well…it may not be packing per se, but it’s RELATED to packing.

  M: E….….….….….….….….…. [deep breathing]

  Managed to get her calmed down and out of my hair for the night so that I could finish up the blueprints. Am not too worried. She has freaked out like this before when we moved. I think it may be just one of those phases parents go through.

  Later

  Ohhhhh YESSSSSSS! Have come up with the ultimate Master Prank idea! Am going to finish my duplication device, then make a perfect duplicate of every person in Blandindulle!!! And possibly some of their pets!!!!!!! Then sit back and watch the mayhem!!!!!!!!!!!

  BWWAAHAHHHAHHAHAHHAHAH!

  Later

  Step one of Master Prank idea is giving me some problems. Duplication device is going to be exceedingly complex to build, and I have already packed away my radiac abrasive lightning rod, capacitance-array silly straws, and multi-tined solder engine. Have built a prototype out of Popsicle sticks, but it fails to duplicate anything more solid than balled-up spid
erwebs.

  I guess I should feel encouraged that I managed to duplicate balled-up spiderwebs, but A) the duplicates seem more flimsy and colorless than they should be, and B) believe me, I already have more than enough spiderwebs in my life. Hate to admit defeat, but I may have to revisit this project after the move.

  Later

  Have been feeling very down about the move, the problematic duplicator, and the lack of magnificent Master Prank. Have spent the past few hours lying in my basement sensory deprivation chamber with Mystery sitting on my chest. I told her all my woes, and she purred at me until I felt better. Am reminding myself that new towns are fun, that I was at least able to duplicate balled-up spiderwebs, and that I inflicted many, many impressive pranks on the people of Blandindulle, so I may as well quit sulking and get on with my packing.

  May 31

  procrastination units, 17; boxes packed, 23; Blandindulle successes catalogued, 13

  Am still kinda disappointed at having no amazing Master Prank for Blandindulle, but am reminding myself that, really, any common prankster worth her salt would drool over MY list of accomplishments. Hm, probably should not go into detail just in case this diary falls into the wrong hands. Oh glutkegs, I guess this diary’s pretty much GOT to include the incriminating stuff or I’ll have nothing to write about.

 

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