Attack of the Vampire Weenies by David Lubar

Author:David Lubar
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

FAMILY TIME

Stephen had just finished clearing the table and was about to sneak off to his room for a few hours of mindless video games when his mom snagged him with those horrible words.

“Stephen,” she said, “it’s Thursday. You know what we do on Thursday.”

Stephen stopped in his tracks. Here it comes, he thought.

“Family time!” his little sister, Tiffany, shouted. “Thursday is family time,” she said through a mouth missing more than a few teeth.

“What will it be?” his dad asked. “A board game, a word game, or a card game?”

“Board game,” Stephen said, hoping to keep the damage to a minimum. At least he could handle something like Scrabble or Parcheesi. That would be bearable.

“Cards!” everyone else shouted.

“Cards it is,” his dad said. “I’ll get the deck.”

“Can we play Crazy Eights?” Stephen asked. “That’s a fun game. Or how about Go Fish?” Please, he thought, please play something normal.

“No!” Tiffany shouted. “I want to play double-deck wangle.”

Stephen cringed at those words.

“Yes, wangle,” his mother agreed.

“Wangle it is,” his dad said, returning with two decks of cards, a pad of paper, a pencil, and a real big grin.

“But…” Stephen’s mind frantically searched for any words, any excuses or suggestions or ideas that could stop what was about to happen. He failed.

They sat at the table. Stephen’s dad handed the deck to Stephen’s mom. “You cut them, Betty.”

She cut the cards. “Oh good, a seven of hearts.” She held the red-spotted card up for all to admire. She seemed pleased. “That means it’s your deal, Tiffany.”

“Goody,” Tiffany said.

Stephen didn’t have any idea how the seven of hearts meant that his sister got the first deal. He didn’t bother asking—he knew he wouldn’t understand the answer.

Tiffany shuffled the double decks, then dealt out the cards. Each person got three cards facedown, then two more faceup. Then each got three more, but some were up and some were down. Stephen didn’t understand the reason for any of it.

“I’ve got proof of trump,” his father said. “That gives me the first play.” He put down a card.

“Reflux aggressive,” his mom said, placing three cards on the table.

“Tribbly scoop,” Tiffany said, picking up one card from the table and putting down another.

Stephen had sat through this scene a thousand times during family hour, and he still had no idea what was going on. He realized everyone was looking at him. He reached for one of the cards on the table.

“Steph,” his father said, “you know you can’t borgy until there are three bleats played.”

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I forgot.” He jerked his hand back, then tossed down a card from those he held.

“Nice reverse triskum,” his mom said.

Stephen relaxed slightly.

“Come on,” Tiffany said, “a two-year-old could have made that move. He had a perfect chance for an angry fleebax with the nine of diamonds and the five of spades, but he didn’t even see it. It’s like he doesn’t even know what he’s doing.” She grinned at him, looking like some sort of Halloween pumpkin carved by a lunatic dentist.

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