Scatman Dues (Freaky Florida Mystery Adventures Book 6) by Margaret Lashley (ereader for android TXT) 📕

“The time for discussion is finished,” Grayson said. “We’ve opened this can of worms. It’s time to lie in it.”

Chapter Sixty-Four

Despite all odds in the known universe, Grayson had been right.

It did indeed appear to be D-Day for the donut dingdongs.

As we peered from the ridge with periscopes, night-vision goggles, and thick, nerdy glasses, we watched silently as Queen Kristie organized her robed minions and had them add a new section to the path of hot coals—one that connected directly to the blazing fire pit.

“Looks like somebody’s in for a robe awakening,” Grayson said, peering through his goggles. “I wonder how much she spent on those things.”

“We’re staring down the sphincter of some intergalactic butt-hole, and that’s what you’re worried about?” I said, grabbing his goggles. I took a look for myself and gasped.

“Oh my lord,” I said. “I think she’s getting ready to send the first batch into the rotisserie.”

“All right, troops,” Grayson said. “Battle stations!”

We all crammed into the cockroach mobile, arms and elbows hanging up on each other like a barrel of monkeys. Once we’d all claimed our own body parts, Grayson said, “Gentlemen, start your engines.”

“Yes, sir!” Jimmy barked. He turned the key. BIMBO didn’t budge.

“Huh,” Grayson grunted. “Try again.”

Jimmy turned the key again. It broke off in the ignition. “Uh ... looks like we’re going to have to go to auxiliary power, Mr. Gray.”

“Excellent,” Grayson nodded. “Make it so.”

Jimmy grimaced. “Uh ... that means we have to get out and push, sir.”

Suddenly, an unearthly wail pierced the air. Queen Kristie had just given the Cruller Holler. A moment later, it was echoed by the horde of robed fat guys.

“Hurry,” Jimmy said, pushing Garth through the opening in the ceiling. “The meeting’s finishing. She’ll be sending them down the coal paths next!”

Jimmy disappeared out the hole behind Garth.

“You next,” Grayson said.

I nodded, then scrambled up the ceiling hatch, Grayson pushing my butt-cheeks from behind. As my head popped out, I saw Garth and Jimmy staring at the woods—in the opposite direction of Queen Bimbo and her bonfire of doom.

“I thought we were gonna push,” I called out to them. They didn’t react.

Then I saw what they were staring at.

Beams of light were barreling through the woods, heading right for us.

“Move it, Drex!” Grayson yelled from below, pushing on my butt again.

I unfroze and scurried out of the hatch. I crawled over the cockroach’s back and jumped onto the ground. Then I sidled up next to Garth.

“What is that?” I asked.

Garth whispered, “The mothership.”

“UNBELIEVABLE!” GRAYSON shouted.

I turned to see his head and elbows protruding from BIMBO’s ceiling like a hatching larvae. He aimed his night-vision goggles at  the light beams heading toward us from the woods.

“What is it?” I cried out.

“I don’t believe it,” he said, lowering his goggles. “It’s my RV!”

I gasped. “Earl must’ve hotwired it!”

Or he found the key I hid for him.

Grayson piled out and scrambled over the giant cockroach. I grabbed his goggles and had a look myself.

“Dear lord!” I cried. “Is he wearing a Star Wars bedspread?”

Grayson grabbed the goggles back. “I bought it online as surprise for you.”

I grabbed the goggles again. “You really don’t know anything about women, do you?”

Grayson gave up trying to command the goggles. “In my own defense, who does?”

“Ugh!” I grunted, then lifted the goggles to my eyes and stared, as Earl barreled up the ridge in the ratty old RV.

“What’s he doing?” Garth asked.

“Yeah. Is he coming to help?” Jimmy asked.

“Obviously,” Grayson said. “The question is, who is he coming to help? Us or Queen Kristie?”

THE RV CAME TO A SCREECHING halt at the top of the ridge. We couldn’t tell if it was intentional, or it was because the middle had bottomed out and left the RV stranded with both front and rear tires spinning in the air.

Earl rolled down the window and waved.

“Howdy, fellers,” he said, as calmly as if he’d just dropped by for a beer.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Helpin’ y’all get rid a that Kristie critter,” he said, fiddling with his Star Wars toga. “Now, what can I do to be of service?”

“BIMBO’s dead,” Jimmy said. “I say let’s put her payload in the RV.”

We all looked over at Grayson. He nodded. “Make it so.”

“NOW, YOU UNDERSTAND the plan, right?” I asked.

Earl grinned. “I’ll get her aimed right, then bail out. And if’n it don’t work out, just remember, I had me a big ol’ time workin’ with y’all.” Earl winked at me. “Anyways, Bobbie, it’s you what’s got the brightest future. Now, y’all gonna give me a push, or what?”

“Good luck, Earl,” I said, and kissed him on the cheek.

Then the four of us lined up and pushed up on the back end of the RV, trying to raise it enough to let the front tires find traction.

As soon as the tires met sand, Earl let out a Cruller Holler and stomped on the gas.

The RV’s tires spun.

The front end fell forward.

Then Earl and that old motorhome went barreling down the ridge, making a beeline for the bonfire.

“Poor, heroic, stupid Earl!” I wailed, watching the RV rambling down the ridge like it was being chased by revenuers. “I don’t understand. How does he have the guts to be so brave?”

Grayson touched my hand. “Probiotics have been shown to lower our reactions to threatening images.”

I jerked my hand away and turned to stare at him. “Is that why you eat yogurt?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps.”

My mouth fell open. “All this time, you’ve been cheating on that damned EEG machine!”

“I wouldn’t call it cheating. You could eat yogurt, too.”

“Not on your life!” I hissed. “And while we’re at it, tell me this. If you could have a new mattress delivered overnight, why couldn’t you order me a new sofa-bed, too?”

Grayson winced. “I had my reasons.”

“There he goes!” Jimmy yelled.

I gasped and turned back just in time to see the old RV ramble into the clearing. It raced toward the bonfire—the men