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Secrets of the Dripping Fang #01; The Onts by Dan Greenburg; Illustrated by Scott M. Fischer |
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CHILDREN'S FICTION | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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The debut of a hilarious series about two orphans and a world of monsters. Nobody wants to adopt the Shluffmuffin twins. Wally's feet stink something awful, and Cheyenne is allergic to everything. Then why are the Mandible sisters so eager to take them home? And what sort of old maids would choose to live in a place called Dripping Fang Forest, where zombies wander the woods singing 'Itsy Bitsy Spider' and ten-foot-long glowing slugs want to suck the feet right off your ankles? Would it seem ungrateful of Wally to point out the Mandible sisters' extra arms? Or to question their all-chocolate, all-the-time menu? Or, um, to venture into the cellar, where the twins have been told to NEVER, EVER, EVER go? Yeah, perhaps that last bit was a mistake. Now there's nothing left for the Shluffmuffins to do but run--run for their lives! 'Here's a funny scary bizarre adventure book you should read. If I were a giant insect, I would give it six thumbs up. ' Jon Scieszka, author of The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales and The Time Warp Trio series 'Boy, was this a pleasure to read! I was hooked from page one. I loved every minute I spent with the Shluffmuffin twins, although I have to admit I was glad I was safe in my own house and nowhere near Dripping Fang Forest.' James Howe, author of Bunnicula 'Wally and Cheyenne Shluffmuffin want to leave Jolly Days Orphanage, and they get their wish when the old Mandible sisters adopt them. But with a new home in eerie Dripping Fang Forest, and the Mandibles forbidding them to enter certain rooms, their new house might be creepier than what's lurking outside in the forest.'--Disney Adventures (Nov 2005) Author Dan Greenburg appears in the October 28 issue of Time for Kids (circ. 2 million), a weekly newsmagazine distributed to kids in classrooms across the country. The Jolly Days Orphanage The first thing Wally Shluffmuffin heard was the familiar crackle of the loudspeaker in the darkness. Next he heard the too-loud, too-cheery voice yell: 'Five a.m., orphans! Rise and shine!' Wally couldn't believe it was five already. He didn't think he'd been asleep for more than an hour or two. Next he heard the too-loud tape of the rooster crowing. 'When the rooster crows, jump into your clothes!' yelled the voice on the loudspeaker. Next he heard the too-loud bugle call that wakes soldiers in the army. 'Out of your sacks, troops!' yelled the voice on the loudspeaker. 'Chow in the mess hall in six minutes!' This was the way Wally had to wake up every morning. He couldn't decide what he hated more-the stupid rooster, the stupid bugle, or the stupid yelling voice of stupid Hortense Jolly, owner of the stupid Jolly Days Orphanage of Cincinnati. Thirty-eight orphans fell all over each other in the dark dorm, pulling on clothes. Still half asleep, Wally started dressing, stubbing his toes and putting his jeans on backward. The dorm was a long room with mattresses on the floor. A rope divided the dorm. A scuzzy blanket hung from the rope, separating the boys' area from the girls'. Like most things at Jolly Days, the dorm smelled of hospital soap and the rotting carcasses of rats that had crawled into the walls, seeking better food than was being served in the orphanage, and died terrible deaths. Wally knew he had just six minutes to dress, make his bed, race the other kids to the john, throw cold water on his face, drag a comb through his hair, squirt toothpaste in his mouth, and scramble to his place at the breakfast table. Hortense Jolly waited in the dining hall with a stopwatch. Precisely six minutes after the bugle blew, she bonged a heavy brass bell with her soup ladle-BONNNGGG! If you weren't in your seat when the bell bonged, you had to do extra chores. Wet orphans with unbuttoned shirts and toothpaste smears on their faces tumbled into the dining room. The bell bonged. Wally ran in, tripped, and skidded across the dining room floor on his belly. 'Wally Shluffmuffin, you are precisely seven seconds late,' Hortense Jolly announced. 'As your reward you get to clean all the toilets!' Wally groaned. He took the seat his sister, Cheyenne, had saved right next to her. Wally and Cheyenne Shluffmuffin looked almost exactly alike. Both were ten years old. Both had rust-colored hair, freckles on their cheeks and noses, and identical salami-shaped birthmarks on their left shoulders. 'I hate cleaning the toilets,' whispered Wally to his sister. 'Why? The toilets are the cleanest things at Jolly Days,' whispered Cheyenne. Cheyenne saw only the good side of life, Wally only the bad. Cheyenne always saw a glass as half full, not half empty. Wally was sure a half-full glass had a leak that would ruin everything underneath it. The Shluffmuffin twins had two flaws: (1) Cheyenne was allergic to ragweed and roses and cats and dogs and dust and mold and milk and wheat and wool and soybeans and flour and everything else you could possibly be allergic to, so she was usually either sneezing or blowing her nose. People around her had stopped saying 'God bless you' or 'Gesundheit' every time she sneezed, because it was taking up all of their time. (2) There is no polite or pleasant way to say this, so here it is: Wally's feet just plain stank. No matter how often he washed them, scrubbed them, sprayed them with Lysol, or soaked them in vinegar or hot sudsy ammonia, his feet reeked worse than festering, maggoty meat. But if you didn't count sneezing or foot stink, Cheyenne and Wally were model children. 'And now, orphans, please rise for The Song,' said Hortense Jolly. Hortense Jolly, who planned som |
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