Zits from Python Pit #6 Read online

  “That sort of sounds like Gil’s armpit,” I said. “You just forgot ‘hairiest.’ So what did it do to me? Is that why I slept so long?”

  “No, no, you slept so long because you were finally unhooked from the power that was compelling you to flee south and deep into the jungles of Africa,” said Director Z. “The remedy reduced the intensity of the call you are receiving by adding a protective slime layer between your brain and your skull. It’s a very effective treatment for migraines as well. Now you can talk with us like a normal human being, and we can all figure out together where it is you need to go and why this is happening to you. I, for one, would like to know what . . . or who is calling you so urgently.”

  I looked past the monsters standing in a circle a few trees over and thought, It’s that way.

  “It’s that way,” I said, pointing confidently.

  “What makes you think it’s that way?” asked Shane.

  “What is the ‘it’ in question?” asked Director Z.

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “I just know it’s that way.”

  “Well, that’s certainly consistent with the direction we’ve been headed in so far,” said Director Z.

  “We can’t just keep going because Chris thinks he needs to go in a certain direction,” said Gordon. “What if that armpit raisin scrambled his brain? I need more details. It’s hot. I’m starved. My face is breaking out all over. Look at this zit!” He pointed above his nose. Between his eyes was the biggest zit I had ever seen on anyone from Rio Vista Middle School. “It’s so big, I can look at it cross-eyed. So how long will it be before we get to wherever it is we’re going, and do they have showers?”

  “I feel like it’s close,” I said, but I had no idea why.

  “What about the showers?” asked Nabila. “I could really use one.”

  I thought long and hard about it, but my brain came up empty.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I just know that we need to keep going. I’ve got something really important to take care of.”

  HISSSSSSSSSNO!

  A snake fell out of the branches above Gordon.

  In a flash, Director Z took off his suit coat and whipped the snake before it crashed into Gordon’s head. It quickly slithered away.

  “AHHHHH!” yelled Gordon.

  “Did it bite you?” I asked.

  “Are you okay?” asked Director Z.

  “Did that snake just say ‘no’?” asked Shane.

  “My zit,” gasped Gordon. “Now my zit feels like it’s going to explode.”

  “So why don’t you just pop it?” Ben asked Gordon.

  “I need a mirror or something,” replied Gordon. “I don’t even know how to attack it without one. So why don’t you pop it for me?”

  “Gross,” said Nabila. “Just gross.”

  “Yeah, no thanks,” said Ben.

  “Director Z,” said Gordon, “do you still have that magic telephone that called us on the moon?”

  “Yes,” said Director Z. “But if you’re thinking about calling Gallow Manor, think again. The rest of the monsters are just fine where they are. I can’t risk having them take part in what could turn out to be a wild-goose chase.”

  “Hey!” I said. “This isn’t a wild-goose chase!”

  “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to use it to call anyone,” said Gordon. “But a phone that’s smart enough to make a call on the moon must also have a camera, right?”

  “Yes, it does,” said Director Z.

  “Can you give it to me?” asked Gordon.

  “Do you really think taking a selfie right now is the best idea?” asked Ben.

  Director Z handed Gordon the cell phone.

  “I’m not taking a selfie,” said Gordon. “I’m taking care of business.”

  Gordon lifted up the phone in front of his face.

  “Oh man, you’re worse than I thought,” he said to the zit. “You’ve gotta GO.”

  He brought his thumb and index finger up to the zit, and before Director Z could say What are you doing?, Gordon did it.

  SPLOPP!

  Gordon popped the zit with a satisfied grunt and wiped the pus off of the telephone with his shirt.

  “Sorry,” he said as he handed the phone back to Director Z. “I wasn’t aiming for it or anything.”

  “Thanks,” said Director Z, and he slowly put the phone away in his pocket.

  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

  Over by the tree, Roy started to scream.

  The other monsters backed away from him as he flailed and jumped around, crazed.

  We ran over to see what was happening.

  Deep in the Jungle

  “What is it?!” Gordon yelled, running ahead.

  The Bigfoot took a powerful swipe at the invisible enemy. His long flailing arms almost took Gordon’s head off. Then Roy stopped swinging. His little-girl screech echoed through the jungle.

  EEEEEEEEEEE!

  The monkeys popped their heads through the canopy to see what was happening.

  Roy dug deep into the fur on his chest, struggling to remove something black that was stuck in it.

  “Big spider!” yelled Roy. “Big spider!”

  He pulled a fist-size spider out of his fur and threw it on the ground.

  He stomped and screeched and stomped some more, shaking the ground everywhere around him. When he was done, he ran around to the other side of the tree to hide.

  Grigore walked over to what was left of the spider. “Does anyvone vant a spider pancake?”

  “Sort of makes me miss Griselda,” said Shane. “She’d love a spider pancake.”

  “Sort of makes me miss food,” said Gordon. “Now we don’t have a river filled with fish to eat. And we’ve run out of flatbread.”

  “I’m sure we’ll be able to find something edible when we get to where we’re going,” I said. “I can—”

  “Feel it,” Ben finished. “Yeah, we know. Please tell me you’re feeling a McDonald’s.”

  I concentrated really hard, but I couldn’t feel it.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “A good falafel?” asked Nabila.

  “Nope,” I said.

  “Brains?” Clive asked.

  “Hmmm,” I said.

  “Never mind,” Clive said. He began to sniff the air. “Smells like a gnarly snack might be nearby.”

  SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSNIFFFF!

  Clive sniffed so hard that his nostrils flapped.

  “Which way are we going?” he asked.

  “That way,” I said, and pointed.

  “Awesome! I think that’s where it’s coming from,” said Clive. “Let’s roll!”

  Clive took off before I could ask him what he smelled. We all followed.

  “Come along, Roy,” said Director Z.

  Roy shook his head and pouted like an angry toddler. “I’m going back to the river,” he said.

  “Is that a tarantula coming down the tree?” asked Nabila.

  Roy bolted toward us. “Wait for me!” he said.

  “Well done,” Director Z whispered to Nabila.

  Hours later we were still pushing our way through the thick jungle. The monsters were strong and had no problem with the heat. My friends and I were covered in sweat and looked more like zombies than Clive did.

  “How’s that zit?” Shane asked Gordon.

  “It feels a lot better now that I popped it,” Gordon replied. “But it still throbs. I feel like someone kicked me in the face.”

  “Dude, could you please wipe the pus off of your T-shirt?” moaned Ben. “There’s so much that leaves are sticking to it.”

  “Ew,” said Nabila.

  Gordon stopped to pluck off the three or four leaves that were stuck to his shirt.

  He pulled the first
one off, and a tiny snake slipped off the back and onto the ground.

  “Gross,” said Ben. “Your pus is attracting baby snakes.”

  Gordon looked down with disgust. He stomped the little snake.

  “All right,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  “Are we at least close to wherever it is we need to go?” Nabila asked me.

  “I have no idea where we are,” I said. “But I know we’re going the right way.”

  “Right on, because we’re super-close to that gnarly snack,” said Clive. He shook with excitement.

  “When are you going to tell us more about this snack?” asked Ben.

  “Smell for yourself,” said Clive.

  Ben took in a deep, nasally breath.

  “Wh-URP,” he said, almost throwing up. “What is that? It smells like rotten chicken.”

  The rest of us sniffed deeply.

  “Ugh,” said Shane. “It smells like you, Clive. A rotten body.”

  “You’ve got that right!” said Clive excitedly.

  “Hey,” I called to Pietro. “Can you smell that?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been trying to ignore it for hours,” he said. His nose was dripping green goo.

  “All right, everyone,” said Director Z, pulling out his cell phone. “We should stop soon. The sun will be setting in fifteen minutes or so, and we have to—”

  BEEP BEEP BEEP.

  Director Z’s cell phone tried to jump out of his hand.

  “What in blazes . . . ?” he said.

  “I don’t care about no sunset,” said Clive, and he rushed into the jungle toward the rotten smell.

  “We can’t get separated,” Director Z yelled. He looked down at his phone again with a strange look on his face. “Clive, you need to get back here! We’ve got to set up our protective perimeter. You could be devoured by jungle cats!”

  “Should we go after him?” I asked.

  Director Z looked at his phone one more time, shoved it into his pocket, and said, “Everybody get him!”

  We rushed in the direction he had run.

  “Clive!” yelled Shane. “CLIVE!!!”

  The monsters tore through the jungle. The farther we pushed, the more terrible it smelled.

  “Ugh, what is that?” said Gordon.

  We crashed into a small clearing and were face-to-face with the biggest, ugliest flower I’d ever seen in my life. It was eight feet tall, with a huge fleshy white structure that shot up from its wrinkly red center.

  “It’s a corpse flower,” said Ben. He turned a little green.

  “A corpse flower?” asked Gordon. “Like, a real corpse?”

  “No, it just smells like one,” said Ben, gagging a little.

  HWUUUURP.

  “Are you kidding me?” said Clive. “It smells like a rose! A rose so sweet I could eat it.”

  “Ugh, I can taste it in my mouth,” said Shane, “and it’s not anything close to delicious. I think I need a breath mint.”

  Clive didn’t care. He jumped into the center of the flower and took a big bite out of the fleshy white center. A swarm of startled flies took to the air, buzzing around us.

  “It smells like a corpse to attract flies, which pollinate it,” said Ben, turning even greener.

  I coughed at the insane smell and inhaled a few of the flies.

  “Well, at least I’m not as hungry anymore,” I said.

  “I’m going to—” said Ben.

  “We know,” the rest of us said.

  BAAAAAAAAAAAARF.

  “Well, we need to set up camp before it gets too dark,” said Director Z. “It will be quicker if you all help Clive clear out the corpse flower. Get to work, everyone. Let’s eat all of it. Quickly, quickly!”

  “I don’t see you jumping in there, Director Z,” said Pietro. “This is all Clive.” He grabbed a few leaves, rolled them up, and plugged his nose with them. “And I’m not sleeping in his tent. Oh no!”

  GROLF GWURPLE SMACK CRUNCH.

  Clive chowed down on the flower.

  “That’s disgusting,” said Nabila.

  “Well, at least I can finally smell my sweat again instead of a corpse,” I said.

  I smacked a mosquito on the back of my neck.

  “Looks like someone else can smell you,” said Gordon.

  “Stupid bloodsucker,” I mumbled.

  “Vhat did you say?” asked Grigore.

  “You know what I mean,” I said.

  More bugs buzzed around our heads as the air cleared and the sun set.

  “All right, let’s get the tents up and then create a protective line around this area,” said Director Z. He turned to Twenty-Three and handed him a bag of black powder. “I think a twenty-foot circle should do just fine.”

  Twenty-Three ran off into the jungle and started to lay down the line.

  “What is that stuff?” I asked Shane.

  “We’ve been using it at night to protect—”

  “Help!” yelled Twenty-Three.

  I looked toward the scream, and he was gone. The bush behind where he had stood shook and squealed.

  “The jungle ate him!” screamed Clarice.

  You’re Such a Boar!

  “Twenty-Three!” yelled Roy, and he pounded toward the bush that had swallowed the small moon creature.

  Twenty-Three popped out of the bush and screamed, “Roy, help!” Roy reached out his paw to grab him, but the bush pulled Twenty-Three back in.

  SQUUUUUUUUUUUUUEEEEEEE!

  “Is that a splurtsar?” asked Shane.

  Twenty-Three burst out of the bush, followed by a small wild boar. “There’s something wrong with it. It’s crazy or something.”

  I ran up to the small boar and tried to scare it away.

  “Be careful!” yelled Nabila.

  It jumped and opened up a mouth filled with sharp teeth. Its red eyes stared deeply into mine as it flew directly for my neck.

  A screech filled the air as a small monkey crashed into the boar from above. Both slammed to the ground.

  Everyone ran over.

  “It’s a vampire boar!” I told them. “The monkey who made me eat Gil’s nasty raisin thingy saved me.”

  “So that’s twice now,” said Shane. “Hmmmm . . .”

  The monkey darted back and forth to escape the snapping jaws of the very hungry vampire boar.

  CRACK!

  Roy knocked the boar in the head before it reached the monkey’s throat.

  “Did it bite you?” Shane asked Twenty-Three.

  “My lizard skin kept me safe,” he said.

  I crouched down on the ground near the monkey. “Are you okay, little guy?” I asked.

  The monkey chattered happily and jumped up onto my knee.

  “Whoa,” I said. “Please tell me you don’t have another nasty armpit raisin for me.”

  SQUUUUUEEEEEEEE SQUUUUUUUEEEEEEE SQUUUEEEEEEEEEE.

  I looked down at the boar. It was still passed out.

  “Where is that coming from?” Ben asked.

  “Everywhere,” said Pietro. He quickly turned into a werewolf and raised his hackles.

  The monkey jumped to my shoulder and chattered. I stood up quickly.

  The bush in front of Director Z exploded with fur and tusks. Three vampire boars jumped out at him. Pietro knocked them out of the way.

  “Those guys are huge!” yelled Gordon.

  “The other one must have been a baby,” said Ben.

  Within seconds, a dozen very large, very angry, very hungry boars surrounded us.

  They closed in, pushing us all together in a tight clump.

  SQUUUUUEEEEE!

  One lunged at Grigore, who bared his fangs. “I’m vone of you,” he growled.

  The boar gave him a strange l
ook and headed on past the vampire.

  Gordon rolled on the ground to avoid two boars that came at him from two different directions. They knocked their sharp tusks together and stumbled away.

  “Hi-ya!” yelled Shane with a chop to one boar’s head. Roy tossed another into the air and, with perfect timing, Shane gave it a powerful roundhouse kick that sent it back into the jungle.

  The monkey, still perched on my shoulder, gave a warning screech as each boar charged me, quickly enough that I could dodge them all.

  “We’re actually going to make it!” yelled Ben. His back was to Nabila, and they helped each other dodge any boars that charged their way.

  SQUUUUUUEEEEE! SQUUUUUEEEEEEE!

  Two dozen more boars surrounded us.

  The ones we had already managed to knock out woke back up.

  “Yaaaaaah!” screeched Clarice. A boar had chomped down on her leg. She yanked it off and threw it into the nearest bush.

  “Oh no!” yelled Ben. “Is she going to become a vampire?”

  “No, each resident of our retirement home is protected from one another’s monstrous powers,” said Director Z. He pulled out the Taser he always kept in his suit pocket and zapped another boar. “She’d already be a werewolf if not. She was bitten by Pietro, remember?”

  “That protection doesn’t spread to us, does it?” asked Shane. He karate-chopped another boar perfectly in the forehead.

  “Unfortunately, no,” said Director Z.

  The boar Shane had just karate-chopped jumped up again.

  “How are we going to kill all of them?” shouted Gordon, knocking another boar out of Nabila and Ben’s way.

  “We don’t need to kill them,” yelled Director Z. “We just need to incapacitate them.”

  I kicked another boar in the side of the face, away from his sharp tusk. But we were starting to lose the battle.

  “Any ideas?” I asked, panicked.

  “Cover me,” said Director Z. He moved as far away from the battle as he could and raised his hands. “Boa, Boa, quite constricted, help the monsters most afflicted!”

  The jungle rumbled once again, but this time with the sound of . . .

  SLITHER SLITHER. HISS.

  The boars, despite being so close to mealtime, suddenly stopped and SQUUUUUUUUEEEEED in fear.