Revenge of the Lawn Gnomes by R. L. Stine Page B

of my
head.
    “Oh, no!” I screamed. “It’s… McCall!”

 
 
2
     
     
    “Joe!” he roared. The floor shook as he stomped toward Mindy.
    All the color drained from Mindy’s face. Her hand grasped her paddle so
tightly that her knuckles turned white. She tried to swing around to look behind
her, but she couldn’t. Her feet were frozen in her Ping-Pong-ball footprints.
    McCall’s hands balled into two huge fists, and he looked really, really
angry.
    “I’m going to get you. And this time I’m going to win. Throw me a paddle.”
    “You jerk!” Mindy sputtered. “I-I knew it wasn’t Mr. McCall. I knew it
was Moose.”
    Moose is Mr. McCall’s son and my best friend. His real name is Michael, but
everyone calls him Moose. Even his parents.
    Moose is the biggest kid in the whole sixth grade. And the strongest. His
legs are as thick as tree trunks. And so is his neck. And he’s very, very loud.
Just like his dad.
    Mindy can’t stand Moose. She says he’s a gross slob.
    I think he’s cool.
    “Yo, Joe!” Moose bellowed. “Where’s my paddle?” His big arm muscles bulged as
he reached out to grab mine.
    I pulled my hand back. But his beefy hand slapped my shoulder so hard that my
head nearly rolled off.
    “Whoaaa!” I yelped.
    Moose let out a deep laugh that shook the basement walls. And then he ended
it with a burp.
    “Moose, you’re disgusting,” Mindy groaned.
    Moose scratched his dark brown crew cut. “Gee, thanks, Mindy.”
    “Thanks for what?” she demanded.
    “For this.” He reached out and snatched the paddle right out of her hand.
    Moose swung Mindy’s paddle around wildly in the air. He missed a hanging lamp
by an inch. “Ready for a real game, Joe?”
    He threw the Ping-Pong ball into the air and drew his powerful arm back. Wham! The ball rocketed across the room. It bounced off two walls and flew
back over the net toward me.
    “Foul!” Mindy cried. “That’s not allowed.”
    “Cool!” I exclaimed. I dove for the ball and missed. Moose has an amazing
serve.
    Moose slammed the ball again. It shot over the net and whacked me in the
chest.
    Thwock!
    “Hey!” I cried. I rubbed the stinging spot.
    “Good shot, huh?” He grinned.
    “Yeah. But you’re supposed to hit the table,” I told him.
    Moose pumped his fat fists into the air. “Super Moose!” he bellowed. “Strong
as a superhero!”
    My friend Moose is a pretty wild guy. Mindy says he’s a total animal. I think
he’s just got a lot of enthusiasm.
    I served while he was still throwing his arms around.
    “Hey! No fair!” he declared. Moose charged the table and clobbered the ball.
And flattened it into a tiny white pancake.
    I groaned. “That’s ball number fifteen for this month,” I announced.
    I grabbed the little pancake and tossed it into a blue plastic milk crate on
the floor. The crate was piled high with dozens of flattened Ping-Pong balls.
    “Hey! I think you broke your record!” I declared.
    “All right!” Moose exclaimed. He leaped on top of the Ping-Pong table and
began jumping up and down. “Super Moose!” he yelled.
    “Stop it, you jerk!” Mindy screamed. “You’re going to break the table.” She
covered her face with her hands.
    “Super Moose! Super Moose!” he chanted.
    The Ping-Pong table swayed. Then it sagged under his weight. He was even
starting to get on my nerves now. “Moose, get off! Get off!” I wailed.
    “Who’s going to make me?” he demanded.
    Then we all heard a loud, sharp craaaaack.
    “You’re breaking it!” Mindy shrieked. “Get off!”
    Moose scrambled off the table. He lurched toward me, holding his hands
straight out like the zombie monster we’d seen in Killer Zombie from Planet
Zero on TV. “Now I’m going to destroy you!”
    Then he hurled himself at me.
    As he smashed into me, I staggered back and fell onto the dusty cement floor.
    Moose jumped onto my stomach and pinned me down. “Say ‘Moose’s tomatoes are
the best!’ ” he ordered.