Wipeout of the Wireless Weenies is the seventh collection of spooky short stories for ages 8 to 12 by the beloved author of the Nathan Abercrombie series, David Lubar. This is the perfect pick for reluctant young readers who like a few chills and a lot of laughs. Welcome to the Weenie Zone! A boy and his family narrowly escape a zombie apocalypse—or do they? A girl neglects her cat's litter box and finds herself in a heap of trouble.
And a group of clicking, scrolling, tapping wireless weenies find themselves on the edge of disaster.
Here are thirty-three hilarious and harrowing stories that will scare you, make you laugh, or see the world in a whole new way. Find out where the author got the idea for each story at the end of the book. Lubar, D. Wipeout of the wireless weenies and other warped and creepy tales. First edition. New York: Starscape. Lubar, David. New York: Starscape, My Account. Log Out. Search for. Advanced Search. Logged In As. Library Home Page. Tyler recovered his balance, briefly considered heading home and telling his mom the shop was closed, realized he was a terrible liar, sighed twice, then made his way inside.
He felt as if the butcher's scream had the ability to push against him like a fierce, hot wind. Before Tyler even reached the counter, with its splayed out steaks and chops, its mounds of ground meat speckled with white flecks of fat, and one horrifyingly large beef tongue, the butcher was glaring at him. I should have had it ready, he thought. Schmatzler screamed.
Wipeout of the wireless weenies and other warped and creepy tales /
It's closing time! The early-evening winter darkness spilled in through the front door. Tyler repeated his "uh. He had the money. But the list was gone. Tyler glanced back over his shoulder. I dropped it. The list was on the sidewalk.
Wipeout of the Wireless Weenies: And Other Warped and Creepy Tales
He was sure of that. Tyler spun back. I can do it, he told himself. He'd seen the list. He tried to picture the words in his mind. He knew what his mother wanted. Some kind of steak. Schmatzler yanked off his blood-splattered apron, threw it to the floor, and stormed around the counter.
But the butcher was already past him and on his way out the door. He hit a final switch, high up above the top of the window, then stepped out and slammed the door behind himself. Tyler looked at the butcher case, thought about what his mother would say if he returned without the meat, and then looked out the door just as the butcher locked it. Tyler spun toward the meat case. It was too dark to see anything. He turned back to the door and stretched up, but the light switch was out of reach. Even with his best jump, he fell short.
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He looked at the other switch, behind the meat case. He started to inch his way toward it. He rushed past the case and flipped the switch on the back wall. The light flickered on, washing away the darkness.
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In the movies, light banished horror and brought hope. In the butcher shop, light banished hope and brought horror. Tyler could see everything now.
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The meat was pulling together, gathering into one large, wet, red mass of muscle and sinew. Steaks, chops, cutlets, even the ground beef — the meat was merging into a single creature. It formed a crude cylinder, the size of a small boy. The whole tube pulsed, as if it were somehow breathing.
Tyler backed against the wall. A ripping sound tore through the silence. A bone jutted out from the side of the tube, near one end, slanting downward so it touched the bottom of the case. A second bone thrust out opposite the first. Two more burst through at the other end. The bones scratched against the bottom of the case, as if trying to gain traction. The meat pulled itself to the rear of the case, pressed against the glass until it slid open, then fell out the back. It hit the floor with a splat. Tyler felt moist droplets shower his face.
He could smell stale blood now. The rancid tang made his eyes burn. He raced to the door and threw himself against it, not caring if he got cut when the glass smashed. Let me out! The whole door rattled, but nothing broke. Behind him, he heard the scrape of bones against the wooden floor. He didn't want to see what was there, but he had to look. The creature reminded him of an animal that had been poorly skinned with a dull knife. Meat had slid down to cover most of the four protruding bones, creating crude legs. A head of some sort had started to form.
It was mostly a sphere, with a gaping opening in front, cushioning the drooping beef tongue. Chips of bone lined the top and bottom of the opening, forming teeth. The tongue pulled back and the mouth snapped shut. The clack of bone striking bone shot through the air. The mouth gaped open again.
The glass shattered. Tyler tumbled through the opening, landing hard on the sidewalk. A sharp pain shot through his left wrist. Lesser pains washed over his knees where they had struck the pavement. Tyler pushed himself to his feet, wincing at the jolts of agony radiating from his wrist. That's when he saw the blood. Don't be a weenie.
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