Boogers from Beyond #3

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Authors: M. D. Payne

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Boogers from Beyond

by M. D. Payne

Grosset & Dunlap

An Imprint of Penguin Group (USA) LLC

To Ben, whose support is strong as llama spit

GROSSET & DUNLAP

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

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Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

Text copyright © 2014 by M. D. Payne. Illustrations copyright © 2014 by Amanda Dockery. 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) LLC.

Cover illustrated by Amanda Dockery

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

ISBN 978-0-698-16743-8

Version_1

Contents

Title Page

Dedication

 

Prologue

In the Beginning . . .

Welcome to Gallow Manor

Messy Monster Trouble

The Calm Before the Storm

The Storm Before the Calm

No-Sleepover

PTA Come and Play

The Fish Sat Out Too Long

The Masked Avengers

Mysterious Gifts

Cute and Cuddly Poop Machines

Nothing to Sneeze At

Lunch Lady Liaisons

Nothing to Sniff At

Covered in Boogers

Ghost Boogers

Buckets of Boogers

Hungry for Boogers

Your Mummy Doesn't Love You

Let's Wrap It Up

Escape from Gallow Manor

The Moon's Face

Must. Find. FREDERICK!

The Final Countdown

Later That Night

 

About the author . . .

Prologue

The old monster quivered with fear.

“Thank . . . uh, thank . . . you for seeing me,” it stammered while bowing low.

A dark, hooded figure slowly approached the old monster. His long, shimmering cape extended past his feet, and he appeared to be floating a few feet off of the ground. In his long arms he held a purring cat. The figure stroked the cat with gloved hands.

A hiss-like voice came from within the dark hood. “You've come a long way. I hope for your sake that the journey was worth it. Speak. But prove to me why I should listen.”

From somewhere deep underground, a massive roar shook the ancient throne room. White dust from the high ceiling slowly rained down on them, causing the cat to hiss.

“There, there,” said the figure soothingly to the cat. “You'll feast soon.”

The old monster brushed the dust off of his shoulders, trying to fight through his fear. “I can get you into their new facility,” he said. “I can give you all of them.”

“You offer me nothing. I've already weakened their defenses,” said the floating figure. His eyes glowed from somewhere deep in the hood. The cat hissed in agreement as its eyes, too, began to glow. “Their old facility has been destroyed. Their spirits have been crushed—they will be easy to pick off. I have already won. Those old monsters just haven't realized it yet. As for you, I will have you drained of every last drop of lebensplasm for wasting our time.”

The cat hissed at the monster as the hooded figure motioned to two guards who had appeared at the door. The figure floated up toward a massive hole in the stone ceiling. The cat growled ominously as they rose.

The guards, cloaked in red, moved toward the old monster.

“No, wait!” screeched the old monster as he fell to his knees. “They're stronger than you think. They're the strongest ones left, thanks to Paradise Island. The Director has chosen a new, secure facility. You'll never be able to defeat him without my help.”

The hooded figure ignored the monster's pleas.

“And you'll never find his
pendants
without me,” added the monster.

The hooded figure paused his rise and extended his hand. The cloaked guards immediately halted their advance.

“Did you say ‘pendants'? That fool has more than one?!” howled the hooded figure.

The old monster rose to his feet as the guards backed away.

“You have my attention,” the hooded figure said as he hovered just above the ground. “Now tell me
everything
you know about the location of these pendants.”

“He has one piece that he wears around his neck,” the old monster replied confidently. “And the other he keeps hidden. I can find it and bring them both to you.”

“And what do you ask for in return?” asked the hooded figure.

“I'm sick of being eternally old,” said the old monster. “I'm sick of being weak. And I know how this all is going to end. If I don't do something now, you'll just drain me like all the rest. I need you to promise you won't harm me.”

“Very well,” said the hooded figure, “you have my word. You shall be considered one of us. Now, I have—”

“Wait,” the old monster cut him off. “It's not just about me. There's something more I need you to do.”

“SOMETHING MORE?” the voice hissed from deep within the hood. “You dare to ask me for more than your pitiful soul? What more could you want?”

“My sister,” choked the old monster, holding back tears. “I need you to bring my sister back. You can do that, can't you?”

“Yes, but why should I?” hissed the hooded figure. “This talk of family disgusts me.”

“I would rather die right now, at this very spot, than keep on without her,” said the old monster. “But I'm much more useful to you alive, am I not?”

“For the time being,” said the hooded figure. “But don't dare to disappoint me. There are fates worse than being drained of your energies until you gasp your last breath, I can assure you.

“I don't trust you to do this alone,” the figure added as he dropped the cat onto the floor.

He clapped his hands, and the two guards once again stood at attention. “Bring me Test Subject Q,” demanded the hooded figure.

“Q?” asked one guard. “But, Master, I thought you had deemed Q unworthy.”

“Did I ask you to think?” threatened the hooded figure. “If I wanted you to think, I'd have you working in the lab—now bring me Test Subject Q!”

The guard left and returned a short time later with a huge woolly monster with terrible fangs—like a mutated buffalo mixed with an abominable snowman. He held it with a glowing leash that crackled as the monster rose and swiped its huge paws in the air.

“Let it loose,” said the hooded figure.

“Master?!” the guards yelled.

“DO IT!”

The old monster watched, horrified, as they let the beast loose, and it immediately turned on them. It grabbed the closest guard. There was a screech as it shoved its furry face into the guard's hood.

CRUNCH.

“Oh, wonderful.” The black hooded figure chuckled and clapped his gloved hands.

“Is this the creature you want me to use?” the old monster asked. “I'll never be able to control it!”

The woolly monster, finished with the guard, turned to the old monster and the hooded figure. It galloped at them.

“No,” said the hooded figure over the roar of the terrible woolly creature. “This is.”

He pointed at the cat, which took off for the advancing monster.

The monster stopped in its tracks, shrieked in terror, and turned around.

The cat chased it out of the huge doorway, and the old monster could hear a terrible struggle, the sound of splashing and hissing, tearing flesh, screaming, and then utter silence.

The cat quietly padded its way into the room and licked a bit of blood off of its muzzle.

“I give you . . . the SANGALA!” said the hooded figure. “THIS is the tool that you shall unleash upon the unsuspecting. THIS is the tool that shall tear you to shreds if you dare disappoint me.”

Once again, the eyes of the cat glowed ominously like the eyes of the hooded figure. The old monster was very afraid.

“Now, bow down!” The hooded figure's voice boomed throughout the room.

The old monster bowed down and slowly backed out of the massive chamber.

In the Beginning . . .

“All right, smell test,” said Shane. He had created a three-point test for Lunch Lady's cafeteria food.

We all leaned in and began to sniff.

“I think I'm good,” said Ben. “It doesn't make me feel sick or anything.”

He sneezed.

“But you
are
sick,” said Gordon. “Can you smell anything but your own boogers?” He leaned in and took another mega-whiff of his food.

“Poor
habibe
has a cold,” said Nabila, Ben's not-girlfriend from Egypt. Her nerdy brown eyes looked sadly at Ben through her thick glasses.

Nabila put her tray and Ben's tray in front of Gordon.

“Would you mind smelling ours?” she asked. “As you know, I have—”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Gordon as he snatched the trays. “You have no sense of smell. I remember. How convenient.”

After two more mega-whiffs, Gordon gave a thumbs-up.

“Okay, visual check,” Shane continued.

We all grabbed our forks and began moving our food around to make sure nothing was hiding in the folds. I slowly lifted off the top of my Blandburger and peered inside.

As I replaced the bun, I saw some kid headed our way. He had a full tray of food and it looked like he was planning on sitting at our table. I hated to be cruel, but we couldn't have outsiders listening in on our conversations. It was for their own good.

“Ben,” I said while elbowing him. “Someone's coming.”

“Not again,” said Ben, and he started to make himself gag.

The kid looked at him strangely, but still tried to put his tray down.

Ben's whole body began to spasm as he returned the boy's look. Then it happened.

BLAARRP!

Ben spewed a small splatter of barf onto the table.

The kid slowly backed away and then ran off.

“Okay,
now
are we free to discuss saving the old monsters from monster juice drainage?” yelled Ben as he wiped a few leftover chunks from his mouth.

“You don't have to yell it,” said Nabila as she cleaned up his mess. “There are still kids at other tables.”

“Sorry,” Ben said. “My ears are all clogged.”

“Good barfin', buddy,” said Gordon, patting Ben on the back. “Perfect targeting. Always the right amount.”

“Half the time, I really do need to barf, you know,” Ben said, snotting.

“Speaking of barf,” Shane added as he poked at his food, “the thought of what's in here makes me want to hurl.”

“Are you sure we have to search our food every day?” asked Gordon as he shook at his Pepperphony Pizz-ugh. “So what if Lunch Lady feeds us something again? We'll probably need it to battle a new breed of monster.”

“I guess Gordon is right,” said Shane. “Chris ate roaches, we beat roaches. We ate zombie piranha, and were better against the underwater skin monsters. But I just wish Lunch Lady would warn us, you know?”

“I still can't believe she fed you sussuroblats,” Nabila said to me. “Was it the whole roach? That must have been a big burger. Did she include any lips? I think that's probably where all the magic is . . .”

I gagged at the thought of eating sussuroblat lips. A bit of barf rose into my mouth and I quickly swallowed it. Another kid who was trying to sit down eyed me with disgust and then changed her mind and headed for another table.

“Aw, thanks,” said Ben.

“How was the meeting between your mother and Director Z?” Nabila asked me.

“The good news is that Director Z convinced her nothing strange was going on at the old retirement home before it burned to the ground,” I replied. “The bad news is that he did
such
a good job, she asked to hold her next PTA meeting at the new place! She's meeting with him today for a tour, and then Sunday they'll have the meeting.”

“I think she's still investigating,” said Shane. “Their friendly meeting over tea wasn't enough.”

“I agree,” I said. “Which is why we all have to make sure nothing goes wrong during the tour. I'm terrified she'll see something that will make her freak. So we
all
need to be there to make sure everything looks perfectly normal—
great
, even.”

“Aw, come on!” said Gordon. “I have wrestling practice after school. Didn't Director Z say all the old monsters would be on their best behavior?”

“We've all seen those guys on their ‘best behavior,'” said Shane, “and it's the worst.”

“It's pretty bad,” said Nabila.

“Yep,” snorted Ben.

“Arrrgh, I guess you're right,” Gordon said, rushing out of his seat. “I'm gonna see if anyone's practicing at the gym right now. See ya later, losers.”

Ben blew a huge snot rocket into a tissue, crumpled it up, and tossed it onto Gordon's tray.

“I'm not sure he's finished,” said Nabila.

“Well, he's finished now,” I said with a chuckle.

“Wow,” my mother said as she parked the car. “It's . . . well, it's HUGE! So much bigger than Raven Hill. It's beautiful.”

She stared in awe at Gallow Manor Retirement Home as Ben, Shane, Gordon, and I stumbled out of the cramped backseat. The huge stone manor looked like a small castle.

“Just wait until you see what it looks like inside,” Nabila said as she got out of the passenger seat. “It's amazing!”

“Be cool, or she'll suspect something is up,” I whispered to Nabila. “It's not
that
great.”

We walked to the huge, wooden, iron-studded front door and rang the bell. Beautifully sculpted bushes sat on either side of the door with huge, colorful stained-glass windows above them. I glanced at one of the snow-covered bushes and could have sworn I saw two eyes looking at me through the cold. I did a double take, and by the time I looked back, the eyes were gone.

My mom's visit has me so nervous that I must be seeing things
, I thought.
Everyone was warned to be on their best behavior.

Before I could ask anyone else if they had seen the mysterious eyes, Director Z himself opened the door.

“Mrs. Taylor,” said Director Z, pale and skinny, but always well dressed. “It's delightful to see you. Please, come inside from the cold.”

My mother eyed every square inch of the foyer as we entered. The marble floors were scuffed, the tapestries on the wall were worn, the fireplace was slightly charred, but at least it didn't look like it could fall down at any time like Raven Hill had.
The best thing that ever happened to that dump was the fire that turned it to ashes
, I thought.

“I specifically said that your services weren't needed tonight,” said Director Z, eyeing me.

“Oh, we had a lot of . . . um . . . stuff left over from yesterday,” I said.

A few of the residents rolled past in wheelchairs.

Shane waved at Clarice, the banshee, who gave us a dirty look from behind her walker. The old monsters had gotten stronger since they'd returned from Paradise Island. So we had begged them to act as old as possible for my mother.

“Thanks so much for putting my mind at ease when we spoke before,” my mother said as Director Z took her coat. “I just keep thinking of how sad it was that you lost everything because of one faulty light switch.”

“We're all dealing with the tragedy as best we can,” said Director Z. “I'm lucky to have an amazing nursing staff, and your son and his friends were a huge help during our transition into the new facilities. We're so grateful to have them.”

“I'm just so glad that Chris was at Kennedy Space Center when it all happened,” said my mother.

She gave me a look that said,
I'm still not sure you were actually there . . .

A Nurse walked over to grab our coats. Nabila and I gasped when we saw him. Ben sneezed in surprise, and a booger landed with a plop at Gordon's feet.

“What is it?” asked my mother.

He put on a uniform that actually fits, for my mother
, I thought. I was used to seeing the Nurses—the massive, doofy men with huge heads who helped keep the old monsters in line—in one-size-too-small nurses' uniforms.

“Oh, nothing,” I said as calmly as I could.

“What a beautiful coat, Madam,” said the Nurse. “It really brings out the color of your eyes.”

This time Shane gasped while my mother blushed at the compliment.

Director Z leaned in and whispered to us, “It took me an entire week to teach him that. So proud! As you can see, I've got everything under control. Your presence really isn't necessary.”

The Nurse took the coats and headed to a nearby closet. My mother turned to us just as Director Z leaned back into place.

“What courteous staff you have, Director,” said my mother.

“Please,” said Director Z, “call me Zachary.”

As Director Z and my mother turned and walked ahead of us, I looked behind to see a skeletal hand reach out of the closet and grab our coats from the Nurse.

Here we go
, I thought.

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