17 The Terrible Tweezer

The Terrible Tweezer The beast squeezed at Claudette's eyeballs until they watered and used one of her wings to dab away the "tears." "It was terrible," it said. "I explained to Ebenezer why you need to take revenge on the neighborhood, but he wouldn't listen. He thinks you were stupid to even ask for another chance from the people you pranked in the past. He said that if you think he's selfish,

then maybe he'll show you just how selfish he could be." "Nah," said Bethany. She started looking around the kitchen—opening various cupboards and fridges, convinced that she'd find him hiding in one of them. "He knows I just said those things 'cause I was hurt." "The only thing he knows is that he wants you and me out of here by Saturday, so he can go back to his wonderful, carefree life of endless bubble baths and tea parties for one," said the beast, squeezing the eyeballs again for dramatic effect. "I'll have to move on from this neighborhood, and you… Well, I guess you're going to have to go back to the orphanage." The beast wanted to enjoy the look on Bethany's face, but her back was turned, and she spent a few moments just staring intently

into a cupboard of cookies. Then her spine straightened, and when she turned around, a part of the cupboard's handle came off in her hand. "He knows what it was like there for me. He wouldn't…" But even as she spoke, she didn't believe her own words. There was no way that Claudette would lie to her about such a thing. She knew that Ebenezer had been struggling with the disruptions to his life, but she never imagined that he would chuck her out. She thought their friendship was more important than that. Everywhere she turned, it seemed like someone was against her. She had begun the day thinking that things were looking up, and she was ending it being homeless, hopeless,

Ebenezerless, and consigned to spend her life in the place where she had been so unhappy. "This is what you get for being a do-gooder," she said. She threw the broken bit of cupboard across the room, causing it to crack one of the fancy teacups that Ebenezer had left out. "I can't go back to the orphanage. Especially now that I know what they all think about me." "I don't think you have a choice—" began the beast. "Stuff that—nobody's ever been very good at telling me what to do. I'm coming with you instead," said Bethany. She looked up with hope in her eyes. "Please, Claudette, can I? You're the only friend I have left...." The beast had to control every muscle in Claudette's body to stop itself from laughing

aloud. Then it spoke the same words it had used all those centuries ago when it had first met Ebenezer. "Don't worry, I promise that you will never ever get rid of me," it said. "I'll take care of you." The beast felt that this would have been the sort of moment that Claudette might have chosen to hug Bethany. It spread its wings and hopped across the counter as it tried to figure out how hugs worked. Thankfully, Bethany was in no such hugging mood. She unzipped her backpack and laid out the rats and pods on the counter. "We're probably gonna have to start our new life together after tomorrow's show," said Bethany. "I won't be able to stick around in

this neighborhood once I've unleashed this particular prank." The beast grinned—its hold over Claudette strengthened by the promise of such horridness. Bethany wanted to get to work straightaway, but her eyes were drooping with exhaustion. "Actually, I might have to wait until tomorrow," said Bethany. "But I promise it'll be worth it." This irritated the beast, but it tried to appear unaffected by the delay. "What an excellent idea. I'll fly you up now. Perhaps I might even sing you a sweet, sweet song at the same time," said the beast. Bethany grabbed hold of the talons, and the beast started flying a shaky, bumpy route up to Bethany's bedroom. The beast was better at