Zero Tolerance Meets the Alien Death Ray and Other (Mostly) Inappropriate Stories (5 page)

BOOK: Zero Tolerance Meets the Alien Death Ray and Other (Mostly) Inappropriate Stories

3.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

ads

"Can't get me," Greg said again. This was
going to be fun. He jumped up and down, waving his arms and
laughing. The dogs snarled. Saliva dripped from their mouths.

But they couldn't leave the yard.

From that moment, Greg had a new purpose in
life. Whenever he had to go anywhere, he made sure he walked down
Perry street. He learned exactly how close he could get to the edge
of the Ulmeyer lawn. He knew how far the dogs would lunge as they
snapped at him with their angry jaws.

Greg figured out ways to drive the dogs
crazy. One day, he brought a piece of hamburger he'd saved from
dinner. He held it close to them. "Mmmmmm, can't you just taste
it?" Greg said. Then, slowly, he moved it toward his mouth and ate
it.

Another day, he brought an old tennis ball
he'd found. He held it up for the dogs to see, then threw it down
the street. "Fetch!" he shouted.

The dogs went crazy.

Nobody ever came to see what all the barking
was about. Greg knew both Ulmeyers worked all day. In the evening,
they often went out. It was easy to tell when they were out — they
always put on the light next to the garage. They turned it off when
they got home. So Greg had total freedom to taunt the dogs. Most of
the other houses on the street were still empty. Some weren't even
finished yet. There was little chance that anyone would interfere
with Greg's revenge.

But it wasn't enough. Greg felt he wasn't
getting the dogs back for what they had done to him. And he knew
they still wanted to hurt him. He could tell. Whenever he came
close to them, they got that wide eyed look, with lips curled back
and ears flattened. They wanted to rip him apart and fight over his
liver.

Greg's burning desire was to find one
perfect scheme that would pay back the dogs for what they had done
to him. He wanted to drive them over the edge of sanity — make them
so crazy that their owners would have to send them to the
pound.

The idea came to him when he was watching
television. It was perfect. It was so absolutely perfectly
wonderful that he almost decided to share it with the rest of the
kids in the neighborhood. They'd love it. He'd be a hero. But if
other kids knew, the word would get around to the adults and he'd
get in trouble. Greg decided to keep his revenge to himself. Nobody
could ever know what he'd done.

"I got you now," Greg said as he began
working on his plan. It was easy. His dad had all sorts of gadgets
and equipment. Everything Greg wanted was in the house, except for
one important part. And that wouldn't be hard to get. Greg took his
dad's video camera and started filming. For the rest of the day, he
took close-up pictures of cats. He filmed every cat he could find.
He even chased a couple of them so he could get pictures of them
running.

Now, he just had to make sure the Ulmeyers
were away. But that was easy. Greg went for a walk each evening,
watching for the light next to the garage.

Soon enough, he saw it. "It's payback time,"
he said, looking down the street at the Ulmeyer's lawn. Everything
was perfect. The rain that had been falling earlier had stopped
now. Greg gathered what he needed — the portable TV, the camera,
and couple extension cords.

The plan was so simple and so great. Greg
couldn't keep the grin off of his face. Right across the street
from the Ulmeyer's house, there was a new house. It wasn't finished
yet, but it looked like the electricity was hooked up. Greg put the
TV and camera at the edge of the Ulmeyer's lawn and then ran the
extension cord along the ground, taking it to the new house. As
he'd expected, it wasn't long enough. He plugged it into the second
cord and carried that one to the house, where he found an outlet
near the front door.

The dogs were already barking at him, but
Greg was pretty sure that even if people heard the noise, they
wouldn't bother to see what was causing it. They must have been
pretty used to the barking by now. He figured they'd probably even
thank him if they knew what he was doing.

"This will drive you crazy," Greg said to
the dogs. He couldn't wait. It was going to be fabulous. They'd see
the cats and just go wild.

Greg turned on the TV. The dogs stood at the
edge of their yard and snarled at him. Greg smiled. He reached for
the PLAY button on the camera. But he didn't press it yet.
Maybe
just a bit closer
, he thought, looking at the three dogs. He
slid the set forward a few more inches.

Zzzzzztttt.

Greg spun when he heard the crackling sound.
"Oh, crap..." He'd dragged the cords into a puddle, right where
they were plugged together. He froze, unsure what to do. He didn't
want to switch off the TV. He was so close to carrying out his
plan.

His eyes, ears, and nose got smacked all at
once with a zap, a flash, and the smell of burning plastic. The zap
was followed by a dead silence. Even the dogs stopped barking for
an instant. Greg noticed that the light in front of the Ulmeyer's
garage had gone dark. They couldn't be home, he thought. He'd have
seen them come in. But why was the light off?

"Wait..." All the lights in the house were
off. He looked to his left, and then to his right. There wasn't a
single light on. No porch lights. No living room lights. There was
no sign of light at all on Perry street.

Or any other electricity.

Greg heard a growl. One of the dogs stepped
past the edge of the lawn.

No electricity.

Greg heard three growls. The other two dogs
stepped past the edge of the lawn.

No fence.

Greg took a step away from the dogs. The
dogs took a step toward Greg. Greg ran. The dogs ran faster. They
stopped barking. They were too busy biting.

It was Greg's turn to make loud noises.

About the
author

David Lubar grew up in Morristown, NJ. The
son of a school librarian, his lack of athletic or social skills
allowed him to begin polishing his literary talents and love of
reading at an early age. He credits his passion for short stories
to his limited attention span and his even-more-limited typing
ability. He sold his first short story in 1978, two years after
graduating from Rutgers. Armed with a degree in Philosophy and no
discernible job skills, he spent the bulk of the Carter
administration as a starving writer before accidentally discovering
he knew how to program computers.

He’s written more than two dozen books for
young readers, including
Hidden Talents
,
Flip,
Invasion of the Road Weenies, Punished!, Dunk,
and
Sleeping Freshmen Never Lie.
His novels are on reading lists
across the country, saving countless students from a close
encounter with
Madame Bovary.
His short stories have
appeared in the collections of such respected anthologists as M.
Jerry Weiss and Don Gallo, and in a variety of magazines, including
Boy's Life, READ, and Nickelodeon
. He has published an
eclectic body of humor pieces in both national and regional
publications. In a former, geekier phase of his life, he designed
and programmed many old-school video games, including
Home
Alone
, and
Frogger 2.
In his spare time, he takes naps
on the couch.