The Great Pumpkin Smash

  BOO CREW

  “Hey, Joe. Since when does the Frankenstein monster carry a clue book?” nine-year-old Frank Hardy asked his brother.

  Joe smiled as he patted the book in the pocket of his monster costume. “When it’s a boo book!” he joked.

  Their best friend, Chet Morton, groaned at Joe’s joke. He knew the brothers loved solving mysteries more than anything. But that Saturday even the best kid detectives in Bayport had other plans. Every kid in town was dressed in Halloween costumes to rock Boo at the Zoo, Bayport Zoo’s annual Halloween party.

  Frank was dressed up as Dr. Frankenstein, Joe was the Frankenstein monster, and Chet looked like a giant squeeze bottle of ketchup.

  Joe pointed to the can in Chet’s hand. “Why did you bring whipped cream, Chet?” he asked. “Won’t there be enough stuff to eat at the trick-or-treat stations?”

  “I’m in the pumpkin-pie-eating contest,” Chet said. “In case they forgot the whipped cream—I brought my own!”

  Frank and Joe wished they could watch their serious-snacking friend in the pumpkin-pie-eating contest. But at the same time was another contest the brothers were psyched about.

  “Did you memorize our song for the Scaryoke contest, Joe?” Frank asked.

  “Are you kidding?” said Joe with a grin. “I know our song so well it’s scary!”

  “As scary as the Haunted Woods?” Chet teased.

  Joe gulped. Each year a Haunted Woods filled with all kinds of creepy stuff was set up inside the zoo’s park. And each year Joe refused to go in!

  “Um—here comes Aunt Trudy!” Joe said, happy to change the subject. The brothers’ aunt had brought them and Chet to the zoo. She had also come on her own mission. . . .

  “I found the zoo’s schedule of events, boys,” said Aunt Trudy, hurrying over. “Just as I thought, there are no activities for the animals today!”

  Aunt Trudy pointed to the schedule. “It’s time animals had fun on Halloween too, and I’m going to make sure they do!”

  “How?” Chet asked.

  “That’s exactly why I’m here, Chet,” Aunt Trudy said, and popped a safari hat on her head. “Now if you boys will excuse me, I’m off on a fact-finding safari.”

  After handing Frank a copy of the schedule and planning for the boys to check in with her from time to time, Aunt Trudy headed off.

  “Is your aunt always on some kind of mission?” Chet asked.

  “Only when it comes to animals,” said Frank.

  Joe looked up at a banner hanging from a lamppost. “Well, we’re on our own mission, you guys,” he said. “To see him!”

  “Him” was the boys’ favorite strongman, Victor the Constrictor, who they had seen in several TV appearances. On the banner, the hulk’s upper body was tattooed with scales and bulging with muscles. He wore his famous cobra headpiece and reptilian-claw gloves. Between the massive claws was a watermelon about to be smashed to “slither-eens”!

  “Awesome!” Chet said, gazing up at Victor’s image. “You can almost hear him hiss.”

  Frank looked at the schedule of the events at the Boo.

  “Victor’s show is at eleven o’clock, right before the pumpkin pie and Scaryoke contests,” he said. “It says he’ll be smashing a whole pumpkin. Do you think he can do it?”

  “Victor once smashed a bowling ball between his hands,” Joe scoffed. “Pumpkins are pistachio nuts to him!”

  “Never drop pistachio nut shells on the ground,” a voice piped up. “They’re poorly digested by juvenile squirrels.”

  “Huh?” Joe asked. Who said that?

  Frank, Joe, and Chet turned to see a boy and a girl, both around their age. They were wearing zookeeper uniforms, hats, and name badges that read BRETT and ELENA.

  “Neat!” Chet said. “Are you dressed up as zookeepers for Halloween?”

  Brett and Elena rolled their eyes at the question.

  “We didn’t spend three weeks at Junior Zookeeper Camp this summer to wear Halloween costumes!” Brett sounded insulted.

  “Junior zookeepers?” Frank repeated.

  Elena nodded proudly. “All junior zookeepers get to work at the Boo this year,” she said. “Brett and I are helping with the turtles. That’s because we know everything about animals.”

  “Oh yeah?” asked Chet with a gleam in his eye. “Then why don’t elephants use computers?”

  Brett and Elena stared at Chet, not answering.

  “Because they’re afraid of the mouse!” Chet laughed. “Get it—afraid of the mouse!”

  “Ha-ha,” Joe laughed. “Good one, Chet!”

  Brett and Elena were not amused.

  “Animal jokes are dumb,” Brett muttered as the two walked away.

  “I love animal jokes, dude,” Joe told Chet.

  Frank turned over the schedule to find a map of the zoo. The map showed exhibits like the Primate House, the Sea Lion Sound, and the Big Cat Habitat, all set up in a circle. In the middle was the Boo Petting Zoo and something called the Boo-seum of Pumpkin Arts.

  “What do you think that is?” said Frank.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Joe said. He waved his hand in the direction of the festivities. “Let’s check out this Boo and see what’s new!”

  TEMPER TENT-RUM

  Frank, Joe, and Chet used the map to find the Boo-seum of Pumpkin Arts. It turned out to be a big white tent just a few feet away from the petting zoo.

  “Let’s see what’s inside,” Joe suggested. “Last one in is a rotten jack-o’-lantern!”

  The three boys filed through the opening. As they looked around, Joe cried, “Cool!”

  Spread out over the sawdust-covered ground were about a dozen painted pumpkins. There were pumpkins painted with animal faces, favorite cartoon characters, and splashy designs. A bunch of kids were milling around, checking out the pumpkins.

  But one work of art was different from all the rest. In the middle of the tent was a tall pumpkin sculpture put together to look like a giant grasshopper. Next to it stood the boys’ schoolmate Oliver Splathall.

  Oliver was a famous kid sculptor in Bayport. But as the boys approached him, he was not talking to a fan. He was arguing with a woman wearing pumpkin earrings and an orange pantsuit.

  “You’re in charge of the contest, Ms. Mitchell,” Oliver was saying. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”

  “I’m sorry, Oliver,” Ms. Mitchell said. “This is a pumpkin-painting contest, and your artwork is clearly a sculpture.”

  “I painted the eyeballs!” Oliver blurted, pointing to the grasshopper’s face. “See?”

  “I’m afraid two black dots are not enough,” Ms. Mitchell said. “Zoo Director Doug told me to stick to the rules.”

  As Oliver stormed out of the tent, Frank and Joe could hear him mutter, “Rules, schmules. I’ll show them!”

  Frank and Joe didn’t know what Oliver meant by that. All they knew was that he had left his sculpture and tool bag inside the tent.

  “Will Oliver be okay?” a girl asked.

  “Yes,” Ms. Mitchell said with a small smile. “He just has an artistic temperament.”

  “If Oliver has a temperature,” a boy said, “he should go home!”

  Ms. Mitchell made an announcement for everyone to leave the tent. “It’s fifteen minutes before eleven now,” she told the kids. “I’m sure you all want to see the Victor the Constrictor Show. Just be sure you’re back at noon for the judging.”

  “What about all these pumpkins?” asked Joe.

  “They’ll be fine here in the Boo-seum,” Ms. Mitchell said. “The tent will be closed until the judging.”

  Frank, Joe, and Chet left with the others. Ms. Mit
chell closed the tent flap and tied it shut.

  As they walked away from the tent, Joe said, “I liked Oliver’s grasshopper sculpture best.”

  “Speaking of grasshoppers,” said Chet excitedly, “I heard they’re giving out gummy bugs in front of the Insect House.”

  “You’re going to eat candy before the pumpkin-pie-eating contest?” Frank asked.

  “It’s my way of warming up,” Chet said with a shrug. “Even athletes do jumping jacks before a big game.”

  Chet left for the Insect House. Frank and Joe were about to check out the carnival rides when they heard a loud—

  “Ee-haw, ee-haw, ee-haw!”

  The brothers followed the sound to the petting zoo—a large, fenced-in area. Inside the pen was a braying donkey. There were also other small animals and two junior zookeepers.

  Frank reached over the fence to pet a goat. But as Joe coaxed a llama over, Frank said, “Bad idea!”

  “Why?” Joe asked as the llama got closer and closer.

  “Because,” Frank said, “llamas spit!”

  The brothers took a step back, but—too late! With a noisy hock, the llama blew a torpedo of spit straight at Frank!

  “Arrrghhh!” Frank cried as the spit glob landed square on his chest. “Loogies!”

  The junior zookeepers raced over to the fence. The names on their badges read MANUEL and STEPHANIE.

  “Okay, okay, what’s the problem?” Manuel demanded.

  “Your llama spit all over my Dr. Frankenstein lab coat,” Frank sighed.

  “Now it’s a raincoat,” Joe joked.

  The junior zookeepers remained stone-faced.

  “Llamas spit when they’re distressed,” Stephanie blurted. “What did you say to him?”

  “Say to him?” cried Frank.

  “Junior zookeepers know how to talk to animals,” Manuel stated. “Oh, but you’re not junior zookeepers, are you?”

  Hoping to lighten things up, Joe told the junior zookeepers about the upcoming show. “We’re going to see Victor the Constrictor. Are you guys going too?”

  “Can’t,” Manuel said. “We’ve got a job to do. Right, JZ Squad?”

  “Right, JZ Squad!” Stephanie replied.

  “You guys must work hard,” Frank admitted. “Do you feed all these animals?”

  “You bet,” Manuel said. “But only special food pellets from the zoo’s nutritional compound.”

  He held out his hand. In his palm was a small hard brown nugget. “This is what the llama eats every day.”

  Joe wrinkled his nose at the pellet. “Glad I’m not a llama,” he said.

  “We wash the petting zoo animals too,” Stephanie said. “Today we bathed all of them before the zoo opened.”

  Suddenly Frank and Joe heard a familiar voice. . . .

  “A petting zoo!” Aunt Trudy cried, racing toward the pen. She smiled at the junior zookeepers. “How would your animals like to bob for apples? Or if you have a monkey—bananas?”

  “Maybe we’d better go,” Frank whispered to Joe.

  After a quick check-in with Aunt Trudy, the brothers headed for the stage where the Victor the Constrictor Show would be.

  “I totally want to wash off this llama spit,” Frank said.

  “There’s no time, Frank,” said Joe as he looked at his watch. “The Victor the Constrictor Show starts at eleven, and we want to get good seats.”

  Frank and Joe picked up their pace—until three tall figures stepped in their way.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” one growled.

  Both brothers gulped. Looming over them were three zombies, looking totally creepy—and real!

  SQUEEZY DOES IT!

  “I said, where are you going?” the tallest of the zombies demanded.

  Frank rolled his eyes. He and Joe would know the voice anywhere. It was Adam Ackerman, Bayport Elementary School’s number one bully. The brothers took a wild guess that the other zombies were Adam’s equally bully-ish friends, Seth and Tony.

  “Hey, Adam,” Joe muttered.

  Adam sniffed the air. “I thought this was Boo at the Zoo,” he said, “Not pe-ew at the zoo.”

  “And I thought the rules said no super-scary costumes,” said Frank, pointing to their zombie suits and makeup.

  “If anyone is scared of zombies, that’s their problem,” Adam scoffed. “Nothing scares us.”

  “Except snakes,” Seth chuckled. “You should see Adam when he sees a snake!”

  “That’s why Adam doesn’t want to see Victor the Constrictor,” Tony said with a grin. “He even—”

  “Shut up!” Adam snapped, then added, “Let’s go. We’ve got that thing to do.”

  Frank and Joe were glad to see the bullies leave.

  “What do you think ‘that thing’ is?” Joe asked.

  Frank frowned. “What else could it be with Adam and his friends?” he said. “More trouble!”

  The brothers followed a crowd of excited kids to the stage. Zoo workers handed out free rubber snake wristbands in honor of the hero, Victor the Constrictor!

  Frank and Joe put on their snake bands and found two open spots on a bench to watch the show. On the stage was a big orange pumpkin set up on a stool.

  “That must be the pumpkin Victor the Constrictor is going to smash,” Frank said.

  “To slither-eens, Frank,” Joe added excitedly. “To slither-eens!”

  Excited whispers filled the air as Bayport Zoo director Doug Navarro walked onto the stage. Many of the kids chuckled at his Halloween costume—a penguin suit!

  Joe leaned forward in his seat. It was showtime!

  Director Doug smiled beneath the beak on his hood and boomed, “Welcome to Boo at the Zoo! Now please welcome your favorite snake-skinned star—Victor the Constrictor!!!”

  The crowd went wild as Victor slithered across the stage in his scaly costume. Hissing at the audience, he stood up and flexed his muscles.

  “You call that a pumpkin?” Victor yelled, pointing to the pumpkin on the stool. “I call it my main squeeze. So what am I going to smash it to, kids?”

  “Slither-eens!” Frank, Joe, and the others yelled.

  Victor grabbed the pumpkin between his claw-gloved hands. The Hardys watched wide-eyed as he began to hiss and squeeze. A hush fell over the crowd as Victor’s biceps bulged, his face reddened, and his teeth gnashed. The constrictor-man seemed to squeeze with all his might, but the pumpkin wouldn’t even crack!

  “It never takes this long for Victor to smash anything,” Joe whispered.

  Frank didn’t get it either. Especially as Victor’s snaky hisses turned into pained grunts. After five whole minutes he slumped over exhausted, dropping the pumpkin back on the stool.

  Frank and Joe just groaned with disappointment, but some kids in the audience really let their frustration be known.

  “Some strongman!” one boy shouted. “He probably can’t squeeze a tube of toothpaste!”

  “He’s not a snake,” a girl yelled out. “More of a—fake!”

  Victor narrowed his eyes at the audience. “So you think I’m a fake, huh?” he demanded. “I may not have squeezed that pumpkin, but I’ll show you soon who’s the champ!”

  He wiggled his tongue like a snake at the audience before stomping off the stage.

  Waddling in his penguin suit, Director Doug returned to the mike. “All right, then!” he said with a forced smile. “I guess Victor the Constrictor was just a little . . viped out!”

  “Was that a joke?” Joe whispered to Frank.

  “But the fun hasn’t ended, kids,” Director Doug said. “Because now it’s time for . . Scaryoke!”

  A zookeeper dressed as a witch wheeled a giant cauldron onto the stage. The cauldron contained the names of the kids who’d entered the Scaryoke contest.

  “Our names are in there, Frank!” Joe said excitedly. “I hope we go first.”

  The witch cackled as she stirred the cauldron with a long staff. Director Doug reached into the cauldron and
pulled out a card. After reading it, he announced, “No bones about it, our first act is about to rock it out. Pelvis Bonesly—come on up!”

  A kid wearing a skeleton costume ran onto the stage. His music played as he broke into a number called “Boo Suede Shoes.”

  After his song, Pelvis spoke into the microphone, “Thank you very much . . and look out for my new song, ‘Are You Bone-some Tonight?’ ”

  Pelvis left the stage to polite applause. Frank and Joe held their breath as the witch stirred the cauldron a second time. Director Doug pulled out the next card and announced, “It’s alive! It’s alive! Dr. Frankenstein and his monster, come on up!”

  “Woo-hoo!” Joe shouted. “That’s us!”

  In a flash the brothers were onstage, performing their Scaryoke song, “Monster Mash.” Joe had a blast singing and lumbering across the stage like Frankenstein’s monster. But as he gazed into the audience to see their reaction, he spotted three kids running in the distance. Each one had a long object resting on his shoulder. Joe squinted for a closer look and saw who they were: Adam, Seth, and Tony, the zombies!

  Where are they going? Joe thought. What’s that thing they’re carrying?

  “Joe!” Frank whispered. “Why did you stop singing and walking like Frankenstein’s monster?”

  Joe gulped as their music stopped. He pointed to the stick-on bolts on his skull cap, joking into the microphone, “Sorry, guys. Must be a screw loose!”

  “Thank you, Dr. Frankenstein and his monster!” Director Doug said, whisking them off the stage. “I’m sure everyone got a—charge—out of that number!”

  As they walked away from the stage, Frank asked, “What was up with that, Joe? We rehearsed our song for two weeks!”

  “I saw something,” Joe explained. “Adam, Seth, and Tony were running with these things on their shoulders.”

  “What things?” Frank asked.

  “I don’t know,” Joe said. “They were too far away for me to see.”

  “Forget about those bullies,” Frank said. “Do you want to stick around and see who wins the Scaryoke contest?”

  “It won’t be us, that’s for sure,” Joe sighed. “Let’s see who wins the pumpkin-painting contest instead.”