Free Night of the Giant Everything by R. L. Stine Page A

of my jumpsuit.
    Time for Plan B.
    But what was Plan B?

31
    I gazed at the yellow plastic water dish in the side of the cage. Could I stand on it and try to climb to the top of the cage?
    No. No way to escape through the top.
    Could I hide in the water dish, then surprise Dr. Marcum or Dr. Beach when they came to find me? And maybe run out while they had the cage door open?
    I stepped closer to examine it. No. It was filled with water. Deep enough for me to swim in. I’d done enough swimming in that soapy bucket back home.
    I spun around, trying to find something … anything….
    The giant canary watched me silently as I paced the cage. I turned to it. I took a few steps toward it.
    The two scientists must have given it a
lot
of Growth Hormone. It was at least
twenty
times the size of a normal canary.
    I studied it for a long while. “You’re going to be my magic trick—aren’t you?” I said. “You are going to help me escape—aren’t you?” I said.
    The bird tilted its head as if trying to understand.
    “You’re going to work some magic,” I said softly, gently. “I know you are.”
    I stepped to the edge of my cage and pressed my cheek up close to its huge orange beak. “Kiss?” I said. “Give me a kiss?”
    The yellow bird didn’t move. It just stared at me with one round black eye the size of a coat button.
    “Kiss?” I pressed my face through the bars. “Come on, birdie. Give me a big, wet kiss.”
    I gasped as the bird lowered its beak and slurped its wet tongue down my cheek.

32
    I swung away from the giant canary. I raised my hand. I touched the wet bird saliva on my skin.
    Then I walked to the cage door and waited.
    I crossed my arms in front of me and stared straight ahead. And waited for my body to start to feel different.
    I waited a minute. Two minutes. Three. I didn’t move. I could still feel the touch of the bird’s tongue on my skin. Thinking about it made my whole face tingle.
    And then I felt a rumbling in my stomach. A sudden ache in my arms and legs.
    Was it happening? Was the Growth Hormone from the bird’s tongue going to make me bigger?
    I stood perfectly still. My knees began to hurt. My toes throbbed.
    The jumpsuit felt tight across my chest … around my waist.
    Yes!
    I started to grow. I could feel myself sliding up. Feel my skin stretch … my legs creak … my head shoot up.
    My head rose to the top of the cage. I nearly filled the cage. Another few seconds and I’d be too big to get out!
    I pushed hard against the latch. It popped open. I shoved the door. Swung it all the way out.
    I could just barely squeeze out the opening. My arms were stretching. My legs lengthened rapidly. My stomach grew. My feet tore out of the little plastic shoes.
    I hit the floor and my jumpsuit made a ripping sound—and flew off.
    I stood there, startled. Totally naked. But I didn’t care. I was free. And a few seconds later, I stood tall next to the cages. I was my old height again.
    Birds squawked and flapped, as if they were celebrating with me.
    But I knew I still wasn’t safe. I had to get out of that lab. I had to get away from the two scientists.
    Over the squawk of the birds, I heard their voices far down the hall. The exit to the lab seemed a mile away.
    How could I distract them and get out the door?
    Only one way. I began moving down the row, opening cage doors. I pulled and prodded the birds out of their cages.
    They came flying out, eager to be free. Birds of all sizes. Birds that had been shrunk. Little birds that had been stretched into giants.
    Cages toppled and crashed to the floor as I moved down the row. Birds flapped and flew and soared overhead.
    Dr. Beach and Dr. Marcum came running into the aisle. They shouted angrily as birds rushed at their heads. The two men frantically grabbed at birds, trying to capture them and return them to their cages.
    They were surrounded by escaped birds. Screaming and cursing and swinging their hands furiously, the two men didn’t even