My Big Fat Zombie Goldfish Read Free Page B

where my experiment is, then you won’t say nothing at all.”
    Then I saw Pradeep’s foot wiggle and heard him trying to talk.
    â€œMmanything,” he mumbled.
    He sounded like he did the day we had the green cupcake–eating contest at his mom’s and he was trying to say “No more cupcakes, please” with a mouth completely squashed full of cupcakes.
    â€œShut up,” Mark said, and kicked Pradeep’s foot as he went out toward the bathroom. “I’m gonna put more water in the fishbowl. Stay put, moron.”
    I ran into my room so Mark wouldn’t see me. When I heard him turn on the tap on the bathroom sink, I jumped up and tiptoed back to the doorway of Mark’s room.
    I had to get Pradeep’s attention to check he was OK, so I made our secret “I need to get your attention to check you’re OK” call, which is a cross between a snake hiss and a dolphin click.

    Pradeep sat up as soon as he heard. He shuffled forward from behind the desk. His arms were stuck behind his back. Then I saw his face. His mouth was completely taped up with Scotch tape from ear to ear in one direction and right down his nose to his chin in the other. Just his nostrils were tape free. He even had little crossways bits of tape going across his cheeks and jaws. That’s gotta hurt. I guess maybe telling Mark about what’s in a crocodile’s stomach wasn’t such a great idea after all.
    I gave him the thumbs-up sign and held up the little bottle of green coloring for him to see.
    I think Pradeep smiled a little then. But it was pretty hard to tell for sure, with all the tape. Then Pradeep shook his head really hard.
    That’s when I felt the thwack to the back of my head and I saw the carpet in Mark’s room come up to meet my face.

 

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    While my face was kissing the carpet, Mark pulled my arms back behind me and tied them together. Everything seemed a bit hazy after that, but he must have dragged me over to where Pradeep was sitting and put us back to back. He had piled up some comics and stuff next to us and there was a shadow of something over our heads. The next thing I knew, he was tying us together with the belt from his white coat. A classic EVIL SCIENTIST move.
    Something dripped onto my face. It smelled disgusting. “Pradeep, what is that?” I asked as I wiped my chin on my shoulder.
    â€œMmark’s mmot mma mmishmmowl mmilled mmoo ma mmop mmith mma mmoxic mmunky mmater mmalanced mmover mmour mmeads,” Pradeep mumbled.
    I looked up to see the goldfish bowl sitting on a wobbly tray balanced between two towers of comic books. Water was sloshing out of the bowl with every little move we made.
    â€œMark’s got the fishbowl filled to the top with the toxic gunky water balanced over our heads?” I said, translating Pradeep’s cupcake talk.
    â€œHow do you do that, moron?” Mark interrupted. “No, shut up. Don’t tell me that. Tell me where the fish is!”
    He leaned in so his face was right up against mine. I should have said something really cool like, “I guess they don’t make EVIL SCIENTIST breath-freshener then?” But instead I just stared back at Mark, trying really hard to ignore the millipede feeling all over my body. Still, I didn’t tell him where Frankie was.
    â€œFine.” Mark stood up. “Morons, prepare to be gunged.”
    Then I heard a quiet voice say, “Swishy little fishy.”
    Sami was standing at the door of Mark’s room with Frankie in the bag in her arms. His eyes were bright green and his tail was thrashing wildly. He was staring right at Mark.
    Sami was looking mega–goldfish starey.

    â€œLittle moron?” Mark said. “Hey, she’s staring up my nose and at the wall. It’s freaking me out. Make her stop.”
    â€œIt’s the fish,” I said. “He’s hypnotized her and he can do it to you.”
    Pradeep mumbled,