Creepella Von Cacklefur #6: Ride for Your Life! Read online

  and it was one of the most crowded at the

  fair. The reason? Inside was a small stage

  where Grandma’s pet spider, Dolores, led a

  crew of arachnids in a dance on stilts made

  of BONES!

  The von Cacklefur pet cockroach, Kafka,

  was onstage, too, shaking his antennae

  to the beat.

  “Grandma, what a fabumousely frightening

  idea!” Shivereen exclaimed.

  “Thank you, my dear!” Grandma Crypt

  replied, beaming. “They’ve been rehearsing

  aaaChoooo!

  since the last full moon.”

  But the fair wasn’t over, not by a long shot!

  Over in Undead Bard Corner,

  Boris von Cacklefur was about to recite his

  latest melancholy ode, titled “The Mouse

  in Agony

  .” Creepella, Shivereen, and

  Geronimo stopped to listen to him.

  “Daddy, your work is the most repulsive

  of them all,” Creepella said approvingly.

  The Mouse in Agony

  by Boris von Cacklefur

  The mouse in agony

  Meandered down the lane

  Thinking of his lost love

  And whimpering with pain.

  A fat rat demanded,

  “Why do you weep into my lap?

  Your dreary moaning

  Disturbs my ratnap!”

  At these cranky words

  The mouse regained his pride.

  He stuck his snout into the air

  As his tail swung side to side!

  The last von Cacklefur booth belonged to

  Grandpa Frankenstein, who was proudly

  displaying his collection of wrinkled

  mummies. Above it hung a sign:

  “Ooh, a prize! Which invention are you

  giving out, Grandpa?” Creepella asked.

  “Come closer, my dear!” her grandfather

  replied.

  Creepella leaned forward. Her grandfather

  opened a little box right in front

  of her snout.

  Special prize! One free

  invention per visitor!

  What…?

  Hee, hee!

  Incredible!

  Achoo!

  Creepella sneezed three times in a row.

  With the first sneeze, a little purple

  cloud formed in front of her. The second

  produced a green one, and the third

  created a red one.

  “It’s made from the dust of firefly

  fossils!” her grandfather explained

  proudly.

  “Incredible!” shouted Shivereen,

  impressed.

  But her grandfather just nodded silently.

  “Shhh!” he whispered. “The enemy has

  ears everywhere!”

  “Which enem—” asked Creepella, peering

  at the next booth. “Oh, I get it. . . . You

  mean Shamley Rattenbaum!”

  Shamley was in front of his booth,

  looking around eagerly. In his paw he

  held a magnifying glass. When he saw

  Geronimo, he smiled warmly.

  “Ah! The famouse journalist from New

  Mouse City! You are the perfect suitor for

  my adorable granddaughters! How are you,

  Mr. Stolten?”

  “His name is Stilton, S-T-I-L-T-O-N,”

  Creepella told Shamley sharply. Then she

  turned to Geronimo and muttered, “And I

  wouldn’t get your tail in a twist over his

  granddaughters. . . .”

  oNe SNeeze

  too maNY

  Shamley tugged his whiskers. “What bad

  luck that I have the booth next to these

  dreadful voN CaCklefurS!”

  “What are you exhibiting, Mr.

  Rattenbaum?” Geronimo asked.

  “Your booth looks empty.”

  Shamley chuckled. “It’s not

  empty. Let me present to you

  the most fabumouse show at the fair —

  Shamley’s Amazing Acrobatic Fleas!”

  Shamley’s Amazing Acrobatic Fleas

  BIRTHPLACE: Jumper’s Pass

  SIZE: Half a pin’s head

  SPECIAL SKILLS: Beastly backflips, serious

  somersaults, critical cartwheels, toxic tumbles, and

  belly flops

  WEAK POINTS: They are really hard to see!

  Geronimo leaned in close. “But I don’t see

  anything. . . .”

  “Of course not!” exclaimed Shamley. “The

  fleas are invisible to the naked eye. You need

  this!”

  He pawed Geronimo the magnifying

  glass

  , and the writer

  peered through it.

  At that moment, Creepella scampered

  over with her grandfather’s box between

  her paws. “Gerrykins you haven’t tried out

  grandfather’s new invention,” she exclaimed,

  thrusting the box under Geronimo’s snout.

  “Creepella, you know I’m allergic to

  everything!” he protested.

  But it was too late.

  Four small clouds appeared — first a pink

  one, then a blue one, then a green one, and

  then an orange one.

  “

  Achoo!

  Achoo!

  Achoo!

  Achoo!”

  Geronimo’s last sneeze, which formed a

  big RED CLOUD, was so powerful it

  sent him flying. He landed

  s

  mac

  k

  in the

  middle of Shamley’s booth, scattering fleas

  everywhere.

  “Hee, hee, hee!” Bitewing giggled.

  “NO! My fleas!” shrieked Shamley.

  “They could be anywhere! Quickly, we must

  use the magnifying glass to find them.”

  Geronimo looked guiltier than a gopher

  in a gerbil burrow. He’d landed on the

  Try it!

  Aaah . . .

  Nooo!

  magnifying glass, and it had shattered.

  “You did this on purpose!” Shamley

  shrieked at Creepella. “You are just as sly

  and sneaky as the rest of your family!”

  Grandpa Frankenstein hurried to

  Creepella’s defense. “How dare you squeak

  to my granddaughter that way, Shamley!”

  “She destroyed my genius idea!”

  Shamley protested.

  “Hmph! Your genius idea was nothing

  but a silly sideshow!” retorted Grandpa

  Frankenstein.

  Oww!

  Achoo!

  “Why, you blubbering buffoon, I’ll . . . I’ll

  mummify you!” Shamley shouted.

  “Just try!” Grandpa Frankenstein cried.

  “You don’t have the guts or the know-how!”

  Creepella put her paws between the two

  rodents to separate them. Then

  she led her grandfather back to his booth.

  “Calm down, Grandpa,” Creepella said.

  “It’s not Shamley’s fault. We ruined his

  sideshow.”

  But Grandpa Frankenstein was madder

  than a black cat on a mouse-free diet. “Just

  let me at him! I’ll fling him into a pool of

  piranhas!”

  Geronimo tried in vain to soothe Shamley.

  “You’ll find the fleas — I’ll help you! Don’t

  worry.”

  But Shamley just stormed away. “I’m

  leaving! There will never be peace between

  the von Cacklef
urs and the Rattenbaums.

  Never!”

  “What do you think he meant by that?”

  asked Geronimo after Shamley had

  disappeared into the crowd.

  “Oh, it’s an ancient legend, longer than an

  alligator’s tail,” began Shivereen.

  “A tale with three heroes,” continued

  Creepella. “The first two are Casper,

  Grandpa Frankenstein’s great-grandfather,

  and Reginald, Shamley’s great-grandfather.”

  “Who’s the third?”

  asked Geronimo.

  Creepella replied.

  “

  A FAMOUSE

  WALNUT TREE!

  ”

  Creepella began to tell the tale.

  “Reginald Rattenbaum and

  Casper von Cacklefur lived

  next door to each other,

  and spent their mouselinghood

  scampering back and forth to

  each other’s farms.

  They were best friends for

  life — close companions on

  a thousand amazing

  adventures. They grew up

  paw in paw, sharing

  every slice of cheese,

  C

  aSper

  voN C

  aCklefur

  R

  eginald

  R

  attenbaum

  the laSt

  WalNut

  no matter how small.

  “When they were barely more than

  mouselings, the two friends decided to leave

  for a LoNG JoURNEY around the world.

  They explored lands near and far, collecting

  many unusual treasures along the way.”

  “What happened to those treasures?”

  asked Geronimo. Creepella’s story had made

  him more curious than a cat.

  “Well, that’s the tricky thing. The

  von Cacklefurs kept them, while the

  Rattenbaums

  sold

  them, and then

  squandered their fortune,” explained

  Creepella.

  “How does the walnut tree come

  into the story?” asked Geronimo.

  “One winter night, as the two were

  returning from an excursion in the

  Mountains of the Mangy Yeti, they met an

  exhausted hiker on the edge of the trail.

  “Reginald and Casper rescued him

  and gave him a sip of blackberry

  juice from their canteen.

  “When he recovered, the

  mysterious wanderer thanked

  them warmly: ‘I am eternally grateful to

  you! How can I repay you?’

  “Casper and Reginald assured him

  that they didn’t want anything, but the

  wanderer insisted on giving them a gift.

  “‘I want you to have something special,’

  he said, opening his battered old bag.

  He pulled out a small pouch and

  gave it to the two friends.

  “‘What is it?’ asked Reginald.

  “‘In this pouch there is a special walnut,

  THE WALNUT OF FRIENDSHIP,’ replied

  the wanderer. ‘It symbolizes true friendship.’

  Have something to drink!

  Thanks!

  “After he squeaked these words, the

  wanderer went on his way. He disappeared

  into the fog, and the two explorers continued

  on their journey.

  “When they returned home, they planted

  the nut on the border between their two

  farms as a symbol of the eternal friendship

  between the von Cacklefurs and the

  Rattenbaums.

  “But as the years went by and the walnut

  tree grew, the two friends passed away, and

  their descendants began to bicker:

  “‘The tree belongs to the von Cacklefurs!’

  “‘Never! It’s the Rattenbaums’!’

  “The two families were so busy

  arguing that they neglected the tree

  until it dried up, and so did all its fruit.

  “Eventually only one walnut remained.

  The last walnut is still hanging at the center

  of the dried-up branches. When it falls on

  one farm or the other, we will finally be able

  to say to whom the tree belongs, the VON

  CaCklefurS or the Rattenbaums,” Creepella

  concluded. “Until then, we can’t agree.”

  The last

  walnut!

  “Holey cheese, you’ll have a front-page

  story

  on your paws when that walnut

  falls!” exclaimed Geronimo.

  “We sure will!” Creepella agreed.

  By then, their attention was back over

  at Grandpa Frankenstein’s booth. Word

  had spread across the fair that he had

  truly outdone himself, and every

  rodent in Gloomeria wanted to see his

  MULTICOLORED sneeze clouds. A

  large group of mice and other creatures had

  gathered outside his booth.

  As Geronimo, Creepella, and Shivereen

  mimi! Where

  are You?

  slipped through the crowd, Shivereen

  suggested they see every one of the

  fair’s attractions.

  They began with the SKELETON TOSS.

  Creepella hit the bull’s-eye three

  times in a row and won a little

  mummy doll. At the Fatal

  Fishing stand, she won a pair of

  spotted piranhas.

  “Auntie, those piranhas

  are truly

  g

  hastly! They’ll

  definitely fit right in at Cacklefur

  Castle, in the tank with all the

  others,” Shivereen said brightly.

  Their next stops were the Coffin

  Crash, the Monster Merry-Go-Round, and

  the Castle of Horrors.

  By the time they took a ride on the

  Swinging Shipwreck, Geronimo was a mess.

  Every time the ship swung through the air,

  his snout turned greener and greener.

  At last, he fainted.

  “Geronimo, you’ve grown softer than

  the finest moldy Brie!” Creepella scolded

  him.

  “You old softie!” sneered Bitewing.

  Raise your paws!

  Yippeeee!

  Geronimo was too dazed to defend

  himself. “Are we done yet?”

  “Nope! We saved the

  best

  for last,”

  Shivereen replied. “Gloomeria’s most

  famouse roller coaster, the Misguided

  Ride

  !”

  “Sounds perfectly horrifying. Let’s do it!”

  exclaimed Creepella.

  The roller coaster was shaped like an

  enormouse skull. Instead of cars, it had

  COFFINS full of rodents rolling along the

  tracks, which disappeared into a tunnel with

  a terrifyingly high triple loop above it.

  Geronimo’s snout went from ghost

  white to slime green as he watched

  the coffins speed up and down. “So, uh, you

  really want to try it out?” he asked nervously.

  Wheeeeee!

  Awesome!

  Fabumouse!

  How thrilling!

  Let’s go!

  Woooo!

  Uh

  -

  oh!

  “Of course we do!” cried

  Creepella and Shivereen.

  They joined the
line outside

  the gate. But they were soon

  distracted by a ratlet whose

  whiskers were soaked in

  tears.

  “Mimi! Where are you?”

  he cried.

  “Poor little mouse,” said Shivereen.

  “Maybe he lost his pet.”

  “Wonder if it’s a tarantula, a hornet, or a

  spitting viper?” mused Bitewing.

  Creepella scurried over to the rodent.

  “WHAT HAPPENED, MY LITTLE ZOMBIE-WOMBIE?”

  The ratlet burst into tears. “I lost my

  sweetheart. She disappeared inside the

  roller coaster!”

  He threw his paws around Creepella’s

  Mimi!

  neck and sobbed into

  her shoulder. “Mimi and

  I were having so much

  fun

  . . . but when our

  coffin zoomed into the

  skull’s left eye, a gust of

  icy wind blasted us. Sniff!”

  “Strange,” commented Creepella. “Then

  what?”

  “I was so scared, I closed my eyes. When

  I opened them again, my Mimi was gone!”

  The ratlet showed Creepella a fur clip in

  the shape of a bat. “This was all

  she left behind. It was lying on

  the empty seat,” he explained.

  “My Mimi had very long

  fur. It’s beautiful, like live

  snakes. She would never leave behind her

  favorite clip! Mimi! Where are you?”

  “We have to do something!” Geronimo

  declared.

  Creepella nodded thoughtfully. “This whole

  story absolutely reeks of mystery!”

  This reeks of mystery!

  We have to do something!

  Creepella strode to the roller coaster’s

  entrance, where she ran into the

  Rattenbaum triplets. Behind them was

  their millipede, Ziggy. As soon as he saw

  Shivereen, he clapped his feet with glee.

  The young mouselet tossed a few mummy

  mold candies at him. Ziggy swallowed

  them in one bite.

  The triplets, on the other paw, were less

  enthusiastic about seeing their longtime

  enemy.