25 The Poisoned Praise

The Poisoned Praise Come on," said Ebenezer. "Let's forget about the beast for today. It's your special moment." Bethany followed Ebenezer inside the sweetshop, which was already bustling with guests. There were marshmallow mountains and candy-cane canyons, chandeliers made of frosted chocolate and walls covered with delicious treats that you could snap off with your hands. There were self-cleaning lollipop slides designed to be ridden tongue first, fondues oozing with fizzypop candy, and pick

'n' mix carts where even the carts themselves were edible. It was all as charming as it was enchanting. But for Bethany, the pleasures were soured by the knowledge of how she had set the beast up for an execution. "Oh no, that's not the sort of face I wanted to see, Bethany," said Miss Muddle. "It's the marshmallow mountains, isn't it? I knew they were too much. Stupid Muddle, stupid Muddle! I so wanted everything to be perfect for you, especially as I ruined the surprise part of your party!" If Bethany's insides hadn't been squirming with guilt, she would have said something complimentary about the marshmallow mountains. She remained silent, though, so Miss Muddle ran over and demolished the

marshmallow mountains while some children from the orphanage were enjoying them. As Bethany walked through the shop, she realized the sheer scale of the bad thing she had done. Her guilt wasn't helped by the fact that every person she and Ebenezer bumped into seemed to be filled with praise for the beast. "Honestly, Mr. Tweezer, you'll have to come and bleedin' see it," said the bird- keeper, who had brought along Keith the Dove. "The hoatzin and the tutting ducks have become thick as thieves—and those fellas can be awfully snobby." "Thank you so much for introducing us to your lovely dog," said the kindly old lady. "My granddaughter called from Australia today. She was so happy with her card, and there's

no way I would have been able to get it to her in time, if it hadn't been for this marvelous postbox. I love it so much that I decided to bring it as my date for the party." "Those bandages your dog coughed out? Absolutely marvelous," said Dr. Barnacle, Eduardo's equally well-nostriled mother. "Was its name 'the beast'? Well, it deserves a very big treat indeed. I've never known any material able to snap broken bones back together so quickly. I'm wearing one of them

myself, for a wrist sprain I got the other week." "BOOWWPPPBOOOOOWWWFIDDDDYBOOOP!" trumpeted the lizard lady, speaking a language that could only be understood by elephants. She took off the scarf that the beast had vomited out, and her voice returned to its usual croak. "Speaking with the animals in the zoo… it's been the happiest experience of my whole life." Ebenezer was having a splendid time, and, through a great effort of will, he made sure to give the beast extra credit for all its vomity brilliance. He wanted to know what it was like to be an actual do-gooder, and he thought being less of a credit-hog might help.

Bethany was not having such a splendid time. Hearing all the beast's actions laid out like this made her wonder whether she should have believed Ebenezer all along. She tried to take herself away from the crowd. But everywhere she looked, she saw some banner or balloon saying WELL DONE, BETHANY! or CONGRATULATIONS TO BETHANY—ONE OF THE BEST PEOPLE IN THE WORLD! The praise seemed to be shaming her. Eventually, she could take it no more. She had to confess the truth. "Oh, ah—hello, Bethany!" said Geoffrey, just as she was gearing herself up to tell Ebenezer. He was wearing his best suit, which was about two and a half sizes too small for him. "I'm so very happy to see you,