[Goosebumps 15] - You Can't Scare Me! by R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead)

Author:R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead)
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-06-04T16:54:53+00:00

14

Saturday afternoon we were in Charlene’s back yard, trying out the new croquet set her father had bought. It was an overcast day. High clouds kept blocking out the sun, sending long, gray shadows over the back lawn.

The roar of a power mower from next door made it a little hard to be heard. But I was telling Molly, Charlene, and Hat about my brother’s idea for scaring Courtney.

“A big, angry dog is way scary,” Hat quickly agreed. He tapped his mallet hard against his green croquet ball and sent mine sailing into the hedge.

Molly frowned. She still hadn’t forgiven me for the tarantula incident, even though I had apologized a thousand times. She straightened the bottom of her yellow T-shirt over her black Lycra bike shorts and prepared to take her turn.

“We need a dog that really looks vicious,” Molly said. She slammed her ball hard. It missed the hoop and bounced off a wooden peg.

“I guess my dog, Buttercup, could do it,” Charlene offered, sighing.

“Huh? Buttercup?” I cried out in surprise. “Get serious, Charlene. Buttercup is a big, lovable oaf. He couldn’t scare a fly.”

A teasing smile formed on Charlene’s face. “Buttercup could do it,” she repeated.

“Oh, sure,” I said, rolling my eyes. “He’s real vicious. That’s why you gave him a vicious name like Buttercup.”

“It’s your turn,” Molly said to me, pointing to my ball way over at the hedge.

“This is such a boring game,” I complained. “Why does anyone like it?”

“I like it,” Hat said. He was winning.

Charlene cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Buttercup! Buttercup! Come here, you ferocious beast!”

A few seconds later, the big Saint Bernard came lumbering toward us from the side of the house. His bushy, white tail was wagging hard, making his entire backside waggle as he hurried across the grass, his big pink tongue drooping out.

“Ooh, I’m scared! I’m scared!” I cried sarcastically. I dropped my croquet mallet and hugged myself, pretending to shiver in fright.

Buttercup ignored me. He ran up to Charlene and started licking her hand, making tiny mewing sounds, almost like a cat.

“Ooh, he’s tough,” I exclaimed.

Hat came up beside me, adjusting his baseball cap over his eyes. “He’s a big, lovable Saint Bernard, Charlene,” Hat said, bending to scratch the dog behind the ears. “He’s not too scary. We need a big wolf. Or a six-foot-tall Doberman.”

Buttercup turned his big head to lick Hat’s hand.

“Yuck!” Hat made a disgusted face. “I hate dog slobber.”

“Where can we get a real attack dog?” I asked, picking up my mallet and leaning on it like a cane. “Do we know anyone who has a guard dog? A big, ugly German shepherd, maybe?”

Charlene still had that teasing grin on her face, as if she knew something the rest of us didn’t. “Give Buttercup a chance,” she said softly. “You might be surprised.”

Clouds drifted over the sun again. The air suddenly grew cooler as gray shadows slid over the grass.

The power mower on the other side of the hedge sputtered to a stop.

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