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    Creepella Von Cacklefur #6: Ride for Your Life!

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    it’S our

      turN!

      “Ugh! It’s that

      dreadful Creepella!”

      groaned Tilly.

      “Grandfather told

      us —” Lilly began.

      “— that you ruined his

      exhibit!” finished Milly.

      “It was an accident!” Creepella protested.

      “It’s true,” confirmed Geronimo. “I

      stumbled and fell on your grandfather’s flea

      theater, but I didn’t do it on purpose. You

      see, I am an extremely clumsy rodent. I

      apologized profusely.”

      “But . . . aren’t you the one —” said Lilly,

      dumbfounded.

      “— who went to climb —” continued

      Milly.

      “— Scream Peak?” asked Tilly.

      Geronimo blushed from the tip of his

      ZIGSLURP!

      tail to the tips of his whiskers.

      Creepella cut them short. “I absolutely

      must ride this roller coaster to figure out

      what happened to Mimi. Let me pass!”

      The triplets blocked the entrance.

      “Don't even think about it!"

      “How dare you cut in front of us!"

      “It's our turn!"

      Stop right there!

      It’s an emergency!

      An empty coffin pulled up in front of

      them. The Rattenbaums scurried onboard

      with a triumphant

      yelp

      . Ziggy tried to

      drag his feet, but the triplets yanked him in.

      They buckled their seat belts, and the coffin

      shot off like a

      rocket

      , zipping toward

      the big skull.

      First the coffin zoomed

      into the skull. It disappeared into the right

      eye, then came through the nose.

      Creepella kept her eyes locked on her

      three archenemies as they screamed with

      delight.

      In the coffin’s backseat, Ziggy had many

      of his little feet over his eyes. “my poor

      little bug bite!

      ” said Shivereen, shaking

      her snout.

      The last part of the ride was invisible

      from the ground. The little coffin entered

      h

      i

      g

      h

      u

      p

      d

      o

      w

      n

      the left eye, did t

      h

      r

      ee very fast loops,

      and began the

      toward the

      exit.

      Creepella waited patiently for the coffin

      to reemerge from the tunnel.

      “Ghastly gravestones!” she exclaimed as

      soon as it appeared. “It’s just as I feared. . . .”

      Inside the coffin was only poor Ziggy the

      millipede, his trembling feet still over

      his eyes.

      Lilly, Milly, and Tilly had disappeared!

      * Translation:

      Where’d they go?

      Whee! We’re flying!

      Ziggi zigigi?!?

      *

      Creepella helped Ziggy scramble

      out of the coffin. The little

      millipede had a bad case of

      the shakes, and Shivereen

      stroked his head to calm him.

      Creepella wanted to know

      more, so she talked to Ziggy in Millipedese.

      Ziggy replied,

      ,” concluded Creepella.

      Geronimo looked at them impatiently.

      tWiStS aNd

      turNS

      “So, what did he say?”

      “It’s past time you learned to squeak

      Millipedese!” Creepella scolded him.

      “Ziggy said that he didn’t see anything

      because his eyes were shut tight. But when

      they entered the skull’s left eye, he felt a

      freezing gust, like the breath of a phantom.”

      “A phantom?” whispered Geronimo. “Are

      you saying there’s a phantom inside the eye

      of the roller coaster?”

      “I don’t know,” replied Creepella. “But I

      intend to FIND OUT!”

      Creepella leaped into the coffin, and

      Shivereen jumped in beside her.

      “No! Creepella, you and Shivereen can’t go

      in there alone, it’s far too dangerous!”

      Geronimo cried.

      He Pulled her by the paw, trying to make

      her climb out.

      “You’re right, you rotten little pumpkin,”

      Creepella agreed. “We shouldn’t go in there

      alone.” Faster than the smell of rancid

      stew travels, she pulled out a short rope

      and tied his paw to her own.

      “Creepella? What are you doing?”

      sputtered Geronimo.

      “We’ll be safe as long as you’re with us!”

      Now let’s go!

      Creepella said sweetly. “Now LET’S GO!”

      The coffin was just starting to move when

      Shamley made his way through the crowd,

      shrieking like a vampire who’s just

      met his first garlic clove.

      “You!” he squeaked at Creepella. “Tell

      me what happened to my adorable

      granddaughters

      !”

      Creepella looked up at him calmly. “I

      don’t know, but I’m about

      to find out!”

      At that moment,

      the coffin

      like a hyperactive

      hamster on a treadmill.

      Shivereen clapped her

      paws in excitement.

      zoomed

      away

      she cried as the coffin zigzagged down the

      tracks at a supersonic speed.

      “Wow! This is better than a trip to the

      cemetery!” squealed Creepella. “Don’t

      you just love it?”

      Geronimo didn’t respond. He had fainted

      again.

      Shivereen quickly brought him

      around with some smelling

      salts from her purse. “Look,

      Auntie,” she said. “Geronimo

      changed colors again.

      First he was green, now he’s

      YELLOW

      !”

      “Just like Chef Stewrat’s

      famouse Moldy Cheddar

      Surprise!” laughed Creepella.

      But a moment later, she was serious again.

      “We must pay attention! In a couple

      seconds, we’ll enter the skull’s

      left eye.”

      As the coffin whizzed into

      the dark tunnel, Geronimo

      exclaimed, “It’s so dark in

      here, I can hardly see my whiskers

      in front of my snout!”

      Suddenly, Shivereen and Creepella felt

      an icy gust pulling on their fur. A

      moment later, they’d been sucked into

      an enormouse vortex!

      And because Creepella and Geronimo

      were attached at the wrist, he was Pulled

      into the darkness along with her!

      trapped!

      Creepella, Geronimo, and Shivereen were

      suspended in midair for a moment. Then

      they fell into something soft.

      “But where are we?” asked Shivereen,

      trying to scramble up but

      slipping

      back down.

      “I don’t know. It seems to be . . . a net.

      Like the kind trapeze mice use,” exclaimed

      Creepella, peering into the darkness around

      the
    m.

      “How is Geronimo?” asked Shivereen.

      She began to bounce up and down in

      the net.

      “He

      fainted

      . . . again. But I know just

      how to wake him up!”

      Creepella leaned over her

      unconscious friend and untied

      the little rope from their paws.

      Then she stuck Grandpa

      Frankenstein’s box under his snout.

      A moment later, Geronimo woke

      up with a series of sneezes. Little

      colored clouds lit up the space

      around them.

      In the light of the clouds, Creepella and

      Shivereen could see where they’d landed.

      There was a net strung in the center of

      the structure supporting the roller

      coaster’s gigantic skull.

      After Geronimo’s fifth and final

      sneeze, darkness fell once

      more. It was so still, the only

      sound was Geronimo’s teeth

      chattering in fear.

      “H-how do we get down from

      here?” he stammered.

      Before Creepella could respond, they

      heard a loud

      C

      LICK

      , and the net closed

      around them!

      “

      ACHOO!

      ACHOO!

      ACHOO!”

      “Tattered tarantulas, now we’re really

      trapped

      !” exclaimed Shivereen. She

      sounded rather excited about it.

      “Shh!” said Creepella. They fell silent,

      and then they all heard it: a soft, rhythmic

      flutter. The noise seemed to be getting

      closer and closer, until it was right next to

      the net.

      “Wh-who’s there?” squeaked Geronimo.

      “Oh, I’d recognize the beat of those wings

      anywhere. It’s Bitewing!” said Creepella.

      “Hi, Creepella! Hi, Shivereen!” their pet

      bat

      greeted them.

      “Bitewing, how did you find us?” asked

      Shivereen.

      Bitewing fluttered around the net.

      Flap!

      Flap!

      Flap!

      “I didn’t see you come out of the skull, so I

      came to find you. I flew into the left eye,

      and then I heard your squeaking and saw

      the bright clouds. . . .”

      “What a good little batty-watty you are!”

      cooed Creepella.

      But Bitewing wasn’t finished yet. “I have a

      surprise for you.”

      Creepella reached through the net’s

      webbing, and Bitewing dropped something

      into her paw.

      “Aha! It’s Gasher, the scorpion who

      can cut through anything!”

      she exclaimed. “He’s one

      of Grandpa Frankenstein’s

      pesky little monsters.

      Gasher can slice through

      any cord,” she explained

      to Geronimo.

      The little monster quickly snipped

      through the links of the net. A minute later,

      Creepella, Shivereen, and Geronimo landed

      on the ground with a thud. Creepella stored

      Gasher in her pocket.

      While Creepella was brushing off her

      dress, Bitewing screeched, “Don’t you have

      something for me, Creepella?”

      “Of course I do, my darling! I always have

      some of your favorite spicy worm candies

      with me,” said Creepella, tossing them

      into the air. “Here’s a reward for a

      job well done.”

      Bitewing caught them in

      midair.

      “

      Y

      u

      m

      !

      M

      y

      f

      a

      v

      o

      r

      i

      t

      e

      !

      ”

      Creepella, Geronimo, Shivereen, and

      Bitewing inspected every inch of the

      black tent that covered the skull’s base,

      looking for a way out.

      After a few minutes, Shivereen

      said, “Auntie, look! There’s a

      rip

      here!”

      The little group scurried

      through the hole till they

      reached the outside of the tent.

      “Finally!” sighed Geronimo.

      “But . . . where are we?”

      “At the back of the Misguided

      the SearCh

      for

      ClueS

      Ride,” replied Creepella. “Let’s take a look.”

      “OUCHIE!” Geronimo cried,

      hopping on one paw. “Something

      poked me!”

      Creepella hurried over to

      him. Stuck in her friend’s

      paw was a

      fur-pin

      engraved with a cockroach

      and the initials

      T

      .R.

      “Wh-what?” asked Geronimo.

      “We’ve found traces of the triplets!”

      Creepella said triumphantly.

      “What does this have to do with the

      triplets?” Geronimo asked.

      Creepella rolled her eyes. “Geronimo-mo!

      These

      initials

      don’t tell you anything?”

      Geronimo tugged at his whiskers.

      “Hmm. ‘T.R.’ Does it mean Thomas

      Rattola, the famouse poet?”

      Creepella shook her snout.

      “Hmmmm . . . how about Theodora

      Rattolucci, the great film director?

      “Try again, you silly scatterbrain!”

      snickered Bitewing.

      “I’ve got it

      !

      ” said Geronimo. “Timothy

      Ratting, the notorious horror novelist!”

      “Geronimo, you’re more clueless than a

      baby kitten! It stands for Tilly Rattenbaum,

      of course!” Shivereen yelled in exasperation.

      “Of course! Why didn’t I think of it

      before?” Geronimo said, smacking his

      snout. “But what in the name of string cheese

      is Tilly’s

      fur-pin

      doing here?”

      “The triplets must have passed through

      here,” said Creepella. “We must scour this

      area for clues!”

      They turned their snouts to the ground

      around them. A few feet away, Creepella

      spotted a shiny object. It was a barrette with

      the initials L.R. “Lily Rattenbaum! We

      are on the right track!”

      “Look there! Near the

      mousehole

      !”

      Creepella picked up a ribbon labeled M.R.

      “It’s Milly's. Very good. Let’s go down!

      “Go down? In what sense?” asked

      Geronimo, looking worried.

      “In the sense of underground,” replied

      Creepella decisively. “We all have to go

      down this mousehole!”

      On the mousehole were the words

      DO

      NOT OPEN!

      “The triplets must have gone down

      here. We have to follow them,” exclaimed

      Creepella. “Bitewing, you go

      first

      . You

      can lead us through the dark .”

      Bitewing zoomed into the hole. “Come

      on! There’s a !”

      Creepella and Shivereen descended one


      after the other. Geronimo glanced at the

      dark passage and gulped. He was afraid

      to follow, but on the other paw, he didn’t

      want to be left alone.

      ladder

      a trim?

      Geronimo finally followed them into the

      mousehole.

      The ladder led to a damp and narrow

      corridor. The three rodents groped their

      way along it, following a faint light in the

      distance. It was coming from a door that

      stood ajar. Without any hesitation, Creepella

      threw it open wide.

      “Where are we?” asked Geronimo.

      The walls of the room were covered with

      mirrors of every size and shape.

      It looked like an abandoned

      funhouse.

      “Wow! This is

      fabumouse!” exclaimed

      Shivereen, admiring

      herself in a mirror

      that warped her

      reflection.

      While she and Geronimo had fun

      MAKING FACES at each other,

      Creepella inspected their surroundings

      more closely.

      She picked up a bottle of fur

      dye and a curler from the ground.

      “Hmm . . . interesting.”

      At that moment Geronimo, who

      was hopping up and

      down in front of a

      mirror

      , lost his balance

      and bumped into the wall.

      “Yee-ouch!” he

      exclaimed.

      The mirror covering

      that part of the wall

      turned with a click,

      revealing a

      hi

      d

      d

      e

      n

      door.

      “Well done! You did something right

      for a change!” cheered Creepella, hurrying

      to open the door.

      Behind it, they found a

      room

      full of boxes,

      mannequins, armchairs, and newspapers. In

      the center, on a pile of magazines, stood an

      enormouse glass jar.

      “Hey, there’s something inside it!”

      Shivereen pointed out.

      Lying on a bed of algae inside of the jar

      was a mysterious crab with big red claws,

      sleeping soundly.

      “But why is there a crab in a jar in this

      abandoned storeroom?” asked Geronimo.

     


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