“Watch,” Kermit replied.
He pulled off the lid and dumped all the mice onto the grass.
The mice didn’t hesitate. They scampered off in all directions. One of them
ran right between Andy’s legs. She cried out in surprise and leaped out of the
way.
“Are you
crazy
?” Evan shrieked. “Your mice are all getting away!”
“No, they’re not,” Kermit replied calmly. He pulled a small gray control unit
from the back pocket of his baggy jeans. It looked a lot like a TV remote
control.
“This is so cool!” Kermit exclaimed. “See? I built an electric fence all the
way around the backyard.”
“I don’t see any fence,” Andy said.
“Of course not. It’s electric,” Kermit told her. “It’s like the invisible
fences people use to keep their dogs in the yard.”
Evan squinted to the back of the yard. “I can’t even see your mice anymore,”
he told Kermit. “They’ve all run away.”
“No way,” Kermit insisted. He raised the slender control unit. “I have
electric current going all around the yard. If a mouse tries to go through it,
he gets a mild shock.”
“But they’re gone!” Andy laughed. “The mice are all gone!”
Kermit gazed around the backyard.
His mouth dropped open. He slapped his forehead. “Oh, wow! I forgot to turn
the fence on! I forgot to throw the switch!”
He raised the control unit and pushed a red button.
“YAAAIIIIII!” Evan let out a scream as a jolt of electricity shot through his
body.
Evan’s arms waved wildly. His legs wiggled and bent.
Kermit pushed the red button again. The buzzing stopped.
Kermit stared at Evan. “Sorry. Guess you shouldn’t be standing there.”
Evan took a deep breath and held it. He waited for his skin to stop tingling.
“You looked like you were dancing!” Andy exclaimed. She threw her arms up and
wiggled her body, imitating Evan.
“Am I supposed to think that’s funny?” Evan asked weakly.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “Your hair is standing straight up on end!”
Evan pushed his hair down with both hands. But it popped right back up.
He glared at Kermit. “Any other great inventions?”
“Not right now,” Kermit replied. “You have to help me.”
“Help you do what?” Evan growled.
“Round up my mice,” Kermit said. He began crawling across the grass on his
hands and knees. “Hurry! They are expensive lab mice. Mom will kill me if I lose
them.”
Evan and Andy saw they had no choice. They dropped to their hands and knees
and began crawling like Kermit.
“I don’t see any mice,” Evan whispered to Andy. “I think Kermit is in major
trouble.”
He heard a heavy thumping sound behind him. He turned and saw Dogface, the
big sheepdog, bouncing across the yard.
“No, Dogface!” Kermit cried. “No! Go home! Go home!”
Furiously wagging his stubby tail, the big dog leaped onto Evan, sending him
sprawling on the grass.
“Dogface—you’re scaring the mice away!” Kermit wailed.
Ignoring Kermit’s desperate pleas, the dog made a wide circle, excitedly
running round and round the yard, barking and wagging his tail.
“Hey—what’s going on?” an angry voice called. “Can’t you keep that dog
quiet?”
Conan came leaping over the low bushes that separated the two yards. Then he
ran about three steps—and stopped.
Evan heard a crackling sound. Then a loud
BUZZ.
Conan’s eyes bulged. His hands shot up. His body twisted in a wild dance.
“Oh, wow,” Kermit murmured. “Didn’t I shut that off?”
He fumbled with the control unit. The buzzing stopped.
Conan took a few seconds to catch his breath.
Then he let out a furious roar. And dove at Evan.
“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” Evan stammered.
Evan leaned his elbows on the dinner table and stared down at the pile of
spaghetti on his plate. Aunt Dee
couldn’t
mess up spaghetti—could she?
he wondered.
“Evan—what happened to your ear?” Aunt Dee asked.
Evan sighed. His left ear was normal. But his right ear throbbed and burned.
He knew it must look like a red cabbage!
“What on earth happened to you?” his aunt demanded.
Evan didn’t want to describe how Conan had won a tug-of-war with his ear. He
mumbled something into his plate.
“Evan got into another fight with Conan,” Kermit told his mom.
She lowered her fork. “Evan—is that true?”
Evan nodded. “It wasn’t exactly a fight.”
“I warned you to stay away from that boy,” his aunt scolded. “You really should be smart enough not to pick a fight with
someone so big.”
“And Evan lost all my white mice too,” Kermit whined.
His mother’s mouth dropped open. “Those mice cost a lot of money!” She
narrowed her eyes at Evan.
Evan swallowed hard. “I’m not the one who brought them outside,” he choked
out.
“I left you in charge,” Kermit’s mom said sternly. “You are responsible for
what goes on here when I’m away.” She scowled and waved her fork at him. “If
it’s too big a job for you, Evan, I can find a grownup to come stay with
Kermit.”
“No!” Evan cried.
Being responsible for Kermit was
impossible.
But he didn’t want to
lose the job. If he didn’t earn money, he couldn’t go to sleepaway camp.
“I can handle the job,” he told his aunt.
Across from him, Kermit gobbled down mouthful after mouthful of spaghetti.
The orange sauce ran down his chin.
Evan rolled several spaghetti strands on his fork, then took a big bite.
He chewed for about three seconds. Then he let out a scream. “YAAAAAAIIIII!”
His mouth was on fire! His head felt about to explode!
“Is it spicy enough?” Aunt Dee asked. “Did I put in enough hot sauce?”
Later, as Evan changed into his pajamas, Kermit typed away on his computer.
Evan’s lips were swollen from the spicy spaghetti. They looked like two big
salamis hanging from his face.
He gazed at himself in the dresser mirror. His ear resembled a red cabbage.
He shook his head unhappily, thinking about Conan. “I have to do something
about him,” he mumbled.
Kermit spun around from his keyboard. “What did you say?”
“Conan went too far this time,” Evan grumbled bitterly. “He’s making me look
like a freak.”
“Yes, you do,” Kermit agreed.
“Shut up. I didn’t ask you,” Evan snapped. “You’re not exactly Brad Pitt!”
“Who’s that?” Kermit asked.
Evan ignored him. He climbed into bed. He hit the pillow a few times,
fluffing it up. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep.
He was too angry.
“This time Conan went too far,” he repeated, muttering to himself. “This time
I have to find a way to pay him back.”
Behind his red-framed glasses, Kermit’s round black eyes lit up. “You mean
revenge
?” he asked excitedly.
“Yeah. I guess,” Evan replied, settling his huge ear on the pillow. His hands
were clenched into tight fists. His whole body felt tense.
“Revenge.” He repeated the word a few times. “That’s what I want. Someone has
to show Conan that he cannot keep pushing everyone around and beating everyone
up. Revenge…”
Kermit shut off his computer. When he turned back to Evan, he had a wide grin
on his face. “I think I can help you,” he said.
“Let me show you something,” Kermit said eagerly, lowering his voice to a
whisper. He pulled something out of his bottom desk drawer and brought it over
to Evan’s foldout bed.
“Look.” Kermit’s grin grew wider. He handed the object to Evan.
“Hey—!” Evan cried out. “It’s so hairy!”
Evan stared at the small object. Some kind of ball, covered in thick, greasy
black hair. “This is totally gross,” he told Kermit. “What is this? Why are you
showing it to me?”
“It’s an egg,” Kermit said, giggling.
“Huh?” Evan nearly dropped it. He turned the hairy thing between his hands.
“What kind of egg?” he asked suspiciously.
“Just an egg,” Kermit replied. “I took it from the refrigerator.”
“But—” Evan started.
“Remember, I told you about my hair-growing formula?” Kermit asked. “I said it wasn’t ready yet. But it is.”
Evan handed the hairy egg back to his cousin. It was too creepy. It was
making him sick.
He swallowed. “You really can grow thick hair like that on an egg?”
Kermit nodded, grinning. He cradled the egg in his hands as if it were a
precious jewel. “My hair mixture works, Evan. We can use it to pay Conan back.”
“Whoa!” Evan cried. “We can’t make him drink it and turn his mouth all hairy.
That’s too horrible—even for Conan.”
“I know,” Kermit agreed. “But we can pour it on his hands, can’t we? We can
give him werewolf hands! That would be pretty funny—wouldn’t it?”
Evan laughed. “Yeah. Yeah, it sure would! Let’s do it!”
Kermit carried the hairy egg back to his desk drawer. “I was going to test my
hair mixture out on Dogface next,” he told Evan. “But Dogface is already hairy
enough. Conan is better.”
“Much better,” Evan agreed, smiling for the first time that night. “Where is
your hair mixture?”
“Don’t worry. I have it hidden safe and sound,” Kermit replied. “It will be
ready when we need it.”
* * *
It took Evan hours to fall asleep. Partly because he couldn’t stop thinking
of his revenge against Conan. And partly because Kermit was snoring his head
off.
Evan stared up at the ceiling with his hands over his ears, unable to shut
out the awful sound. A throaty
gluggg glugggg,
followed by a whistle.
Kermit is obnoxious even when he’s asleep, Evan thought bitterly.
When he finally fell asleep, Evan dreamed he was standing in his pajamas in
Kermit’s backyard. It was night. Long shadows fell over the grass.
Peering into the back of the yard, Evan saw Kermit’s white mice. At least
half a dozen of them. They had clustered around something hidden in the grass.
In the dream, Evan moved closer. And saw what had interested the lab mice.
A blue can. An open can of Monster Blood!
Evan’s mouth dropped open in horror.
The green gunk had bubbled out of the can. And the white mice were silently
gobbling it. Gobbling down chunk after chunk. Their teeth gnashing up and down.
Their furry bodies quivering with excitement as they ate.
As they swallowed down the sticky green goo, they grew. Evan stared in shock. The mice inflated until they were as big as
dogs. Then bigger. The giant mice rose up on their hind legs.
They’re taller than
me
! Evan saw, stumbling back. And so fat!
They must weigh two hundred pounds!
They turned to him, gnashing their teeth hungrily. As tall as the house, the
mice lurched heavily toward Evan.
One of them tossed back its head, opened its jaws wide, and let out a roar.
Evan saw rows of jagged gray teeth.
And then the mice lurched heavily toward him. Their feet thudded the ground.
Their dark eyes glinted in the silvery glow from the moon.
“Nooooooooo!” He opened his mouth in a long, high howl.
He raised his hands to protect himself.
The mice rose over him now. One of them lowered its head. Its jagged teeth
slid around Evan’s waist. Its jaw tightened.
Evan felt its hot, sour breath stream over him.
Felt the teeth dig into his side.
And then he was being lifted up. Lifted in the giant jaws of the white mouse.
The mouse clamped its jaws shut. Bit down hard.
Evan knew it was chewing him. Chewing him to pieces.
He opened his eyes. Began to lift himself from the frightening dream. Lift himself… lift himself…
And heard a tapping at Kermit’s bedroom window.
Evan squinted through the darkness. To the window. And saw a giant mouse!
No.
No. The mouse was part of the dream.
I’m still half in my dream, half awake, Evan realized, blinking his eyes.
He shook himself hard. Shook himself awake.
The mouse faded slowly, then vanished. And Evan stared at the window, stared
at Andy outside in the darkness. Tapping on the glass. Tapping so urgently.
Evan jumped from the small foldout bed. His legs were tangled in the blanket.
He stumbled and had to grab the edge of Kermit’s dresser to catch his balance.
One foot had fallen asleep. He dragged it, limping to the window. He silently
pushed open the window, careful not to wake Kermit.
Kermit snored away,
glugging
and whistling. He had kicked his blanket
to the floor. He had fallen asleep with his glasses on.
Evan leaned out into the darkness. A gust of cold wind made him shiver.
“Andy—what are you doing here?” he cried out.
“Get dressed,” Andy ordered. “Hurry, Evan. I have to show you something.”
“Huh?” He glanced back at Kermit’s clock radio. “It’s almost midnight!”
Andy raised a finger to her lips. “Sssshhhh. Hurry. Get dressed. I think
you’ll want to see this.”
She held up a can. A blue plastic can.
Evan groaned. “You really came here in the middle of the night for another
joke? Give me a break, Andy. What’s going to spring out at me
this
time?”
But then he saw the serious expression on Andy’s face.
“It isn’t a joke—is it?” he whispered.
She shook her head.
“It’s Monster Blood—right?” Evan demanded.
Andy nodded. “I think so. The can—it looks the same.”
Evan spun away from the window. He pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt right
over his pajamas. His hands trembled as he tied his shoes.
He grabbed his down jacket from the closet. And climbed out the window.
“I was dreaming about Monster Blood,” he told Andy.