20 The Ultimate De-Beasting

The Ultimate De-Beasting The beast looked incredibly mournful for a moment. Then it sprang into action. As the puddle portal opened in the kitchen, it

quickly used its tongues to wash its face and clear all evidence of its eating spree. Mr. Nickle popped out of the puddle, wearing a nightcap and worn-out pj's. "What is it?" he asked, in a sleepy voice. "It's the beast! It was eating meat," said Bethany in triumph. Mr. Nickle rubbed his eyes and looked at the beast. Bethany looked over, expecting a moment of victory, only to realize that it was too late. The beast was smiling a sweet, dribbly smile and was holding a fork in one of its tiny hands. "Oh dearsies, I am eating—but deffy-weff not any meatsies," said the beast. It chomped the top off the fork. "This cutlery is delishy-wish!"

Bethany had nothing she could do or say to prove her word against the beast's. Mr. Nickle wrinkled his wrinkly face crossly at her and confiscated the button. "These are only for people who can be trusted with them," he said, as he put the button in his pajama pocket. With that, he disappeared back inside the puddle. Bethany was unable to believe how badly she had failed. "Sorrykins for doing all that tidying," said the beast. "I know it was very sneaky of me, but I just couldn't bear the idea of leaving my homesies." Bethany began to fear that the beast would never leave. If she couldn't even get it to reveal its true nature by feeding it some meat, then how long would it stay? Days… weeks…

months… years, even? Maybe its evil scheme was to stay with Bethany for the rest of her life and torment her until she was on her deathbed. "Did you hear me, Bethany? Oh, I do hope you can forgive me," said the beast. Bethany stomped out of the kitchen, toward the back of the house. She couldn't believe that the beast had gotten the better of her—again. No matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried, it always seemed like the beast was going to find a way to stay in her life—eating away any hope of happiness. She grabbed a blanket and went out to the garden. Raising a hand to her face, she was unsurprised to find that there were angry tears leaking out of her eyes.

She stayed out there as the sun continued to rise—watching as the day of her big party dawned. It should have felt like a moment of triumph. But thanks to the beast, it didn't feel like a triumph at all. She was out of ideas. At some point, Bethany removed the trumpet from her trousers and held it in front of her leaking eyes. Up until a couple of days ago, she had thought her life was free from the beast, and she couldn't remember a period in her life when she'd been happier. Bethany let out a little scream of frustration—wishing there was some way of getting rid of the beast once and for all—when something in the sky caught her eye. The something was purple and feathery, and it was flying toward the house with the speed and determination of an angry tornado.

Within the blink of an eye, it landed in front of Bethany, shedding a shower of feathers.