Free Goosebumps Most Wanted - 02 - Son of Slappy by R.L. Stine

grounded. I couldn’t go to school. And I couldn’t go to the YC to help the kids work on their skit.
    I stayed in my room, playing games on my game-player until my thumbs were red and sore.
    Stick brought me my homework every afternoon so I wouldn’t get behind. Miss Hathaway even came to visit one afternoon to tell me about things that were going on at school.
    All week, my parents kept squinting at me day and night. Studying me like I was some kind of weird alien species. They were so totally tense, they watched my every move. Really. Once, I burped — and they both jumped.
    I guess they expected me to go berserk again. Me? I didn’t know what to expect.
    I carried Slappy to my clothes closet and sat him in a corner. Then I covered him in an old bedsheet. I made sure the closet door was shut tight.
    I knew he could get out if he wanted to. But he didn’t move at all while I was grounded. And he stayed out of my mind and didn’t make me say anything horrible.
    My parents were so happy that I seemed normal again, they let me go to the YC to help the kids with their skit.
    Yes, it was nearly time for the big YC bake sale and show. Everyone was counting on me. The skit was going well. And I had promised I’d do a comedy act with Slappy.
    But how could I bring that evil thing to the YC?
    I didn’t know. I didn’t want to think about it.
    But I kept wondering if maybe I could make a deal with Slappy. Promise him something in return for his being quiet at the YC show. Maybe promise I’d be a perfect son if he swore he wouldn’t ruin the whole night.
    Stick, Miles, and I still hadn’t decided what to bake for the big bake sale competition. We were going to have a big meeting at Stick’s house to decide.
    Mom and Dad discussed it. They didn’t really want me to go to Stick’s. They still wanted to keep me home, where they could watch me.
    But I pleaded with them. I told them how much everyone at the YC was counting on me to help keep the YC alive. And I reminded them I’d been good for days.
    Finally, they agreed to let me go to Stick’s house for a few hours.
    “I promise I won’t get in any trouble,” I said, raising my right hand to swear. “I promise I’ll be just like the old me.”
    Think I was able to keep that promise?

It was a warm, sunny day with a few puffy clouds high in the sky. The sunshine felt good on my face as I walked to Stick’s house.
    It had poured down rain the night before. The sidewalks and the street still had deep puddles, and the grass gleamed wetly.
    A black cat ran right in front of me as I turned the corner. But I didn’t care. I felt so lucky to be out of the house and out in the sunshine. And I felt lucky to feel like my old self.
    Stick, Miles, and I still had a problem. We hadn’t thought up a better idea for what to bake. The giant cupcake was our most awesome idea. But of course, it was impossible.
    I was thinking about cookies and cakes when I saw the little kid near the curb. He was about seven or eight. He had curly blond hair and a round red face. His black T-shirt came down nearly to the knees of his cargo jeans.
    He was bent over his bike, tugging at the handlebars, making loud groaning sounds with each tug.
    I hurried over to him. “Can I help?” I said. “What’s the problem?”
    “It’s stuck,” he groaned. “My bike. I’m late for my tennis lesson. But my bike got stuck in the mud.”
    “Stand back.” I pushed him gently to the side. “I’ll get it out. No problem.”
    “Hey, thanks,” he said. He was breathing hard, and his face was still red from all the tugging.
    I grabbed the handlebars and started to pull. But then I heard a loud chirp .
    I let go of the handlebars. The sky darkened for a second. And it felt like the ground was shaking under my feet.
    I turned from the bike. “Can I see your tennis racket?” I said.
    The boy pointed to the basket on the front of the bike. I lifted the racket case from the basket.
    I opened the case and