Say Cheese - and Die Screaming! by R. L. Stine Page A

Arthur,” I continued. “At his Little
League game. Bird smiled and posed for the camera. But the photo showed him
lying unconscious on the ground.
    “Then, a few minutes later, a kid hit a line drive. It smacked Bird in the
head. And Bird fell unconscious on the ground. Just like in the photo.”
    I heard some nervous giggles from the back of the room. I glanced up to see
puzzled expressions on a lot of faces. Brian still had his fingers in his nose.
I turned away. No way was I going to laugh at that.
    Mr. Saur had his elbows on the desk and his round, bald head buried in his
hands. His face was hidden. So I couldn’t tell if he liked my report or not.
    “Then something even more scary happened,” I continued. “I brought the camera
to Shari Walker’s birthday party. I snapped Shari’s picture, standing next to a
tree.
    “When the photo popped out, it showed the tree—but no Shari. It was like
she was invisible or something. And then, a few minutes later, Shari
disappeared.”
    A few kids gasped. Some others laughed. Mr. Saur still had his face buried in
his hands.
    “A couple of days later, Shari came back,” I told them. “But now we were too
frightened to keep the camera. So we took it back to the Coffman house. And we
met this strange guy, dressed all in black. He was the inventor of the camera.
He told us that the camera had a curse on it, and—”
    To my surprise, Mr. Saur jumped to his feet. “That will be enough,” he
snapped.
    “Excuse me?” I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly.
    The room went silent.
    Mr. Saur shook his head. Then he narrowed his watery brown eyes at me.
“Greg,” he said, “I have some very bad news for you.”

 
 
2
     
     
    The lunch bell rang.
    “We’ll hear more reports tomorrow,” Mr. Saur announced. “Class dismissed.”
    Chairs scraped the floor as everyone stood up. I watched the other kids
gather up their books and backpacks and head for the door. Freedom.
    I had an urge to run after them. But Mr. Saur kept his eyes locked on me,
holding me in place with those cold eyes.
    I waited until the classroom had emptied out. Then I turned to the
lemon-faced teacher. “What’s the bad news?” I gritted my teeth.
    “I’m giving you an F ,” Sourball said.
    “Huh?”
    “I’m failing you on that report, Greg.”
    I felt my knees give. I had to grab the chalk tray to keep myself from
collapsing in a quivering heap on the floor. “B—but—but— why?” I choked out.
    He crossed his bony arms over the front of his yellow alligator-shirt. I wished the alligator would reach up and bite him.
    “You didn’t do the assignment,” he said.
    “But—but—but—” I still gripped the chalk tray. My legs were shaking too
hard to stand up.
    “Greg, you were supposed to share a true story,” Mr. Saur scolded.
“Instead, you came in here with that wild tale. It was completely silly. I don’t
know what you were thinking!”
    “But it’s true!” I wailed. “The camera—”
    He waved a hand in my face. “Silly,” he repeated. “You came in here with a
wild, silly story. Something you probably read in a comic book.”
    “Mr. Saur—!” I started. I let go of the chalk tray and balled my hands into
tight fists. “You have to believe me. The camera is real. I didn’t make up the
story.”
    I took a deep breath. Then I struggled to keep my voice low and calm. “You
can ask my friends,” I told him. “They’re in Miss Folsom’s class. They’ll tell
you it really happened.”
    “I’m sure they will.” He smirked at me. “I’m sure your friends will tell me
whatever you want them to tell me.”
    “No. Really—!” I protested.
    Mr. Saur shook his head. “You didn’t take the assignment seriously, Greg. You
treated it like a big joke. So I have to give you an F .”
    I raised my fists and let out a loud groan.
    Greg, get control, I warned myself. Get control.
    But how could I get control? The grade was so unfair. And it meant so much to