Stampede of the Supermarket Slugs (7 page)

As Henry and Keats shut the lid with a
click
, a long black limousine rolled into the alley. No one was driving, and the front seat was empty.

The back window of the limo rolled down. Mr. Cigam’s cheery, diamond-shaped face popped into view. The elderly magician waved to the boys. He had a corn chip in his hand.

“Greetings, Henry and Keats!” he said.

“Hi, Mr. Cigam,” Henry and Keats replied. They carried the box with Squirt over to the limo and set it down by a tire.

“Well done!” Mr. Cigam said. “You two must be hungry after such hard work. Snack?” He held a tray of chips up to the window. In
the center of the tray sat an open jar of nacho cheese dip.

Henry groaned. But Keats laughed. Mr. Cigam seemed clueless that they could have used the dip … a half hour ago.

“No thanks, Mr. Cigam,” Keats said. “And I think you might lose your appetite after you see the store.”

“Pish,” Mr. Cigam said. “My magic is still good for something. I’ll have the Purple Rabbit shipshape by morning.”

“It’s
your
store?” Henry asked.

Mr. Cigam nodded. “I used to visit daily. But lately, I’ve been feeling a bit … I don’t know …”

“Turned around?” Keats guessed.

“Precisely.” Mr. Cigam’s smile dimmed. “In the old days, I’d never have feared a Wallenda slug. Even if that one slug
can
become a swarm after eating cheese puffs.”

Henry waggled a finger at the magician. “Don’t beat yourself up, Mr. Cigam. Those slugs are slime-time scary.”

Mr. Cigam chuckled. “Too true,” he said. “Now there’s the matter of payment. Here you are.” The chip in his hand changed suddenly into a gleaming gold coin. Henry’s eyes went wide.

Keats hesitated. “Seriously, Mr. Cigam, the supermarket
is
a disaster zone.”

“Kind of like you, cuz,” Henry said. He scraped an orange glob of octopus off Keats’s cheek. “I think we might have earned it.”

Keats took a whiff and had to agree. He accepted the coin. “Thanks, Mr. Cigam!”

“Excellent,” the magician said. “By the by, I have two stepsisters who could use your services. They might be in touch.”

“You hear that, Keats?” Henry said. “We’re getting to be real pros at magic! I can just hear everyone talking about us now. They’ll all say—”

BURRRP!

The loud noise came from the box at their feet.

“Oh, right,” Keats said. “We haven’t introduced you.”

“Mr. Cigam, this is one very stuffed slug named Squirt,” Henry said. “Squirt, say hello to the nice magician.”

As Mr. Cigam peered down at him, Squirt burped again. The slug stretched his plump body to form letters on the plastic box.

Henry crouched down next to him. “Keats, check this out,” he said, grinning.

Keats stooped so he could read the letters, too. And then he laughed as Squirt wrote,
wats fer desrt?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

BILL DOYLE
grew up in Michigan and wrote his first story—a funny whodunit—when he was eight. Since then, he’s written other action-packed books for kids, like the Scream Team series, the Crime Through Time series, and the Behind Enemy Lines series. He lives in New York City with two sluggish, snack-loving dachshunds.

You can visit him online at
billdoyle.net
.