IN THE LAND OF THE LAWN WEENIES PDF

From the award-winning author of Hidden Talents , two remarkable short story collections - Kidzilla and The Witch's Monkey - together for the first time. Plus several brand new stories. Each hilarious and harrowing. A substitute teacher finds out she has some monsters for students. A group of kids attempt a levitation trick with hair-raising results.

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Javascript is not enabled in your browser. Enabling JavaScript in your browser will allow you to experience all the features of our site. Learn how to enable JavaScript on your browser. Kids' Club Eligible. NOOK Book. From the award-winning author of Hidden Talents , two remarkable short story collections - Kidzilla and The Witch's Monkey - together for the first time. Plus several brand new stories. Each hilarious and harrowing. A substitute teacher finds out she has some monsters for students.

A group of kids attempt a levitation trick with hair-raising results. A neighborhood is so boring the grown ups are turning into And dozens more.

Thousands of kids and educators across the country have voted Hidden Talents onto over twenty state lists. Besides writing, he has also worked as a video game programmer and designer. He now lives in Nazareth, Pennsylvania. Let me tell you something: Fairies might look lovely on the outside, but inside they are ugly, real ugly. Fairies are mean and vicious. They've got teeth like tiny needles.

One bite wouldn't hurt much. But I'm pretty sure they wouldn't stop at one; they'd keep biting and chewing until they hit something vital.

Fairies aren't good news. I know. Let me tell you about my fairy in a jar. I'd been running around the backyard trying to catch fireflies with the net from this bug kit I'd gotten years ago. The kit was a birthday present from an aunt who had no idea what I liked. I might have used it once or twice, but mostly itjust sat at the back of my closet under a pile of other junk. I'd lost the collecting bottle that came with it, but I found an old jar and punched a couple of holes in the lid.

Bugs probably didn't need much air, but it was fun banging away with a hammer and nail. Anyhow, I was swiping the net at some bugs because there was nothing on TV except reruns and all my friends were busy and I couldn't find anything else to do.

I'd caught a couple fireflies and put them in the jar. The whole adventure was. I was just about to quit when I saw a flash under the birch tree at the back of the yard near the woods.

Thinking about it later, I sort of remember that the flash was different. It was more glittery, almost a sparkle. I crept over and swung the net. Something heavy hit the bottom.

I jumped. I thought I'd caught a bat. My skin crawled at that idea. I fumbled the jar lid open and slammed the net down. I felt a solid plunk against the glass. Got it , I thought. I needed two tries to get the lid on right. The jar kept shaking in my hand. So did the lid. A bat. My very own bat. The guys would go wild when I showed it to them. I held the jar up to see my catch.

Three fireflies were crawling around the sides. But that wasn't what grabbed my attention. There was something else crumpled on the bottom. It wasn't a bat--not even close. It wasn't an it , either.

It was a she. She unfolded herself and rose slowly to her feet, shimmering in the light of the quarter moon. Shewas no more than five inches tall. Long dark hair. Green dress. She looked down at her body, as if checking for injuries. The jar was still shaking in short jerks that made her stagger and fight for balance. She pressed her hands against the glass and stared straight at me. For an instant, so quick I thought at first it was my imagination, there was nothing in her gaze but pure hatred.

Then she smiled. Maybe I should have smashed the jar against the tree. Maybe I should have smashed it and run--just run and run forever. In a way, I understood how that kid at the playground must have felt last week when I punched him in the gut. Everything inside of me was stunned.

I felt that my body had been filled with glue. I held the jar and stared at her. I grabbed the lid. I started to twist it loose, but that look of hate flashed across her face again.

I knew. In that thousandth of a second, I knew I could never set her free. By then, I also knew I didn't want to set her free.

She was mine. I had captured a prize no one else could even imagine. I took my hand off the lid and held it out, palm up. A thousand dollars. Right here. I wasn't going to fall for some sort of trick. Still staring at me, she raised the struggling insect to her mouth. Still staring, she bit off the head of the firefly. I don't know if she kept staring after that. I looked away. But I squeezed the jar, as if to make sure the glass was strong enough to keep her trapped.

It was one of those jars people put homemade stuff in. The lady next door had this wormy old apple tree. Each year she made applesauce for the whole neighborhood. Every house got a jar, tied with a red ribbon. No one ever eats it. We just toss out the whole thing, or dump the sauce and keep the jar. The glass felt solid.

It would hold her. I took the jar up to my room, being careful that nobody saw it. I put it on the top shelf in my closet. The next morning, I almost convinced myself none of it had happened.

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In the Land of the Lawn Weenies

From the award-winning author of Hidden Talents , two remarkable short story collections - Kidzilla and The Witch's Monkey - together for the first time. Plus several brand new stories. Each hilarious and harrowing. A substitute teacher finds out she has some monsters for students. A group of kids attempt a levitation trick with hair-raising results.

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In the Land of the Lawn Weenies and Other Warped and Creepy Tales

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