Night of the Creepy Things (7 page)

Okay, okay. That didn't work, either.

No problem.

Does Bernie B. know how to quit?

I don't know the meaning of the word
quit
.

I'd been saving the best for last. I had a plan to get
everyone
screaming.

It would make my new horror video—
Escape of the Mad, Mad, Mad Gorilla
—the scariest movie of all. Soon B. A. Gool would be
begging
me to come help him with his new film.

Sandy Eggozoo finished our tour. We had our
pizza dinner. Then it was time to settle down for the night.

Our tents were lined up in two rows down the middle of the gorilla house. On both sides, gorillas paced their cages, scratching their heads, watching us.

They made low gorilla grunts to one another. As if they were asking, “Why are these freaks sleeping in our house?”

I knew some of the gorillas must be asking, “Who is that totally cool dude named Bernie Bridges?”

Mrs. Heinie and Sandy Eggozoo made sure our sleeping bags were ready and that we were all in place. We were sleeping four kids to a tent.

Except for me. I had a letter from the nurse saying that I'm allergic to other kids. So I had a tent of my own.

Which I needed, because I had to store Belzer's gorilla costume. It smelled more disgusting than the
real
gorillas. But I didn't care.

It was going to help me film the greatest scene in the history of horror movies.

I peeked out of my tent. The lights in the gorilla house had been turned down low. The gorillas grunted
and groaned and shuffled around in their cages.

I hoped they enjoyed the excitement, too. It was probably a little boring being a gorilla.

Some kids were still talking and giggling in their tents. I waited till it grew quiet and most kids were asleep.

Then I lifted the flap of the tent beside mine. “Belzer, wake up!” I called in a hoarse whisper. “It's showtime!”

Belzer staggered out of the tent, yawning and rubbing his eyes. He had his pajamas on backward. Why? I didn't want to go there.

Feenman poked his head out of the tent. “Ready when you are, Bernie,” he whispered. He raised the camcorder.

I waved Feenman back into the tent. “Wait till I get Belzer into his costume,” I whispered.

Belzer let out a loud yawn.

“Shhhh!” I clapped a hand over his mouth. “Don't wake everyone up. You'll ruin the surprise.”

I pulled him into my tent and shoved the gorilla costume into his hands. “Hurry. Get into it.”

He gagged. “But, Bernie—it STINKS!”

“What makes you think
you
smell any better?” I replied. “Stop stalling, Belzer. You want to go to Hollywood—don't you? You want to be a star? Get dressed.”

I leaped out of the tent. That hairy costume really did
reek
!

A few minutes later, Belzer stepped out. He looked so real, a few of the gorillas started jumping up and down in their cages.

“Go, Belzer!” I exclaimed. “King Kong Jr.! You're the MAN! I mean, gorilla!” I slapped the big guy a high five.

“I…I can't SEE!” Belzer whined from inside the gorilla head. Bernie, I can't see out of this thing!”

“Don't worry about it,” I said. I gave him a little push. “Go out there and be a STAR!”

I whispered to Feenman in the tent. “Time to go to work. Get the camcorder ready. We're gonna make an award-winner!”

The plan was simple.

I flash on all the lights in the gorilla house.

I shout at the top of my lungs: “WILD GORILLA ESCAPED! WILD GORILLA ESCAPED!”

Belzer the Gorilla starts roaring and running through the tents and sleeping bags, waving his furry arms.

Kids jump out of their tents. Jump out of their
skin
! Crying. Running for their lives. We get Sherman screaming his head off.

A true horror story. An
awesome
scene of total panic.

And Feenman gets it all on tape.

Bye-bye, Sherman. Take a walk, dude. No way you can compete with a MAD, MAD, MAD GORILLA!

B. A. Gool will say, “Bernie, how did you make it look so REAL? I need you to be my
partner
!”

And I'll say, “My buddies have to come to Hollywood, too.” Because even when I'm a
huge
star, I won't forget the friends who helped get me there.

Okay. Here goes.

I crept over to the light switches—and clicked them all on….

Belzer let out a roar. He ran about three feet and stumbled over a tent.

The tent crashed to the floor under him, and two kids crawled out, looking totally dazed.

I screamed.

Belzer picked himself up and went roaring through the rows of tents.

“WILD GORILLA!” I shouted.

Feenman raised the camcorder to his eye and started to shoot.

I stood against a wall, my heart pounding, and waited for the scene of total panic to start.

Kids began popping out of their tents. I heard a few startled screams.

Yes. Yes! It was happening!

Belzer the Gorilla stumbled again. He bounced off a tent and kept running, roaring and waving his arms above his head.

More kids climbed to their feet. Yes.
Yes!

But, whoa. Wait.

I saw Wes Updood raise a camcorder to his face and point it at Belzer. Two more kids pulled cameras out. On the other side of the room, I saw April-May, Flora and Fauna Peevish, and Jennifer Ecch—all with cameras raised.

Belzer's gorilla head tilted and almost fell off. He let out a roar.

I saw more kids reaching for camcorders. Some
were recording the scene on cell phones.

Sherman Oaks had his fancy camera trained on Belzer.

“No. Please—no! Not Sherman! Not Sherman, too!” I wailed.

I slumped against the wall. I let out a long sigh.

My plan…my beautiful plan…

Where was the panic? Where was the scene of total
horror
?

No screaming. No running.

Everyone was making MY MOVIE!

Belzer the Gorilla stumbled again. The poor guy couldn't see a thing in that costume.

Dozens of camcorders followed his every move.

Belzer staggered forward, waving his arms, struggling to catch his balance.

He fell face-forward against a gorilla cage. Inside the cage, the gorilla reached out—and tapped Belzer on the head!

“YIIIIIKES!” Belzer let out a shriek. He tore off his gorilla head and heaved it against a wall. Then
he took off running—out the door!

Kids were laughing now. Laughing and slapping high fives and touching knuckles.

Feenman lowered his camcorder. “Bernie,” he said, “it's a total
disaster
!”

I shrugged. “Maybe B. A. Gool would like a
comedy
called
Attack of the Klutz
!”

Halloween night. Party night. B. A. Gool night!

Two grinning skeletons greeted everyone at the Student Center as we entered the party. The skeletons were made of papier-mâché and shook and rattled in the cold wind.

A shivering mummy held the door open for everyone. I recognized Mr. Pocketlint, one of the dorm parents, inside the bandages.

Orange and black streamers were stretched across the ceiling. Paper bats flapped low over our heads. Casper the Friendly Ghost was pasted on one wall.

“Party time!” I said, slapping Feenman on the shoulder.

It was a costume party. Feenman was dressed as Crench, and Crench was dressed as Feenman.

I saw Belzer in his gorilla suit. Actually, I
smelled
him first—then I saw him!

I painted a lightning bolt on my forehead and
came as Harry Potter. That's because I'm a
wizard
at moviemaking.

I did a great editing job on the tape Feenman had shot. I mixed together close-up shots of the real gorillas with shots of Belzer staggering around. Then, in the dorm, I had Feenman and Crench scream and pretend to be frightened.

My video was called
Scream, Feenman and Crench, Scream!
, and it was terrifying. I knew I couldn't lose.

I gazed around the crowded party. A lot of kids
were dressed as monsters and vampires. I guess they were trying to impress B. A. Gool.

I saw a really hairy, frightening werewolf gulping down a slice of pizza. No. It wasn't a werewolf. It was Beast without a costume.

I saw Chipmunk hiding behind the punch bowl. He was shaking and shivering. Poor guy. Halloween is a scary time for him. I knew Chipmunk would be glad when this whole Horror Movie Contest was over.

Where was B. A. Gool?

I was dying for him to announce my video as the winner.

Sherman Oaks came over to me. He wore a green mummy costume.

“Sherman, dude—a
green
mummy?” I said. “Why is it green? Because it's totally moldy?”

He grinned his sixty-five-tooth grin. “No way. It's green cuz it's made out of five-dollar bills.” He shook his head. “I feel so sorry for kids in fourth grade who aren't millionaires yet.”

“Don't feel bad,” I said. I patted his shoulder. Actually, I tried to pull off a few fives. But they were glued on tight.

“I feel sorry for dudes in fourth grade who
aren't
going to win B. A. Gool's contest,” I said. “Do you want to congratulate me now, Sherman? Or do you want to stand in line later?”

And at that moment, B. A. Gool stepped onto the stage. “Happy Halloween, boys and ghouls!” he shouted. “I've come to announce the winner of the Horror Movie Contest.”