27 The Gifts That Wouldn't Stop Giving

The Gifts That Wouldn't Stop Giving You did what?!" whispered Ebenezer. They were standing in the corner of the sweetshop, next to the basket containing the latest version of the bombastic bubbletrumpets.

Everyone else was crowding around Miss Muddle—calling for her to make a "SPEECH! SPEECH!" The bird-keeper and Keith the Dove worked together to clear a table of a leaning tower of bonbons, while Timothy and Paulo the postman helped the sweet-maker climb up. "Um… oh bother. I'm a much better sweet- maker than I am a speechmaker," said Miss Muddle. She nervously hiccuped. "But I suppose I should say a word or two about our not-so-surprised guest of honor, and the reason why we're all here…" "It's terrible, I know," Bethany whispered back at Ebenezer. "I was stupid and thoughtless, and—" "Shh!" said Eduardo Barnacle, at the back of the crowd. He flared his nostrils at them.

"It's very childish to talk during someone's speech. Especially when that speech is about you." "…Um, er, I know many of you probably weren't Bethany's biggest fans when you first met her. The first time she visited this shop, she left some surprise frogs in my licorice jars," continued Miss Muddle. "But it doesn't matter what people were like in the past. It only matters what people are like today. And today, Bethany is a very, very good…" "I know it was wrong of me, Ebenezer," continued Bethany, at an even quieter volume. "But this angry parrot showed up for revenge, and I wanted to get the dribbly stinker out of our lives… and it just seemed like the perfect opportunity."

"To kill the beast?!" said Ebenezer. "I can't believe I wanted to be more like you!" In his fury, he forgot to keep his voice at a whisper. Eduardo Barnacle turned around again, but not to shush them this time. "Kill… the beast?" he asked in his nasally voice. "You can't kill the lovely doggy who's done such wonders for my garden!" Before the beast had vomited out the hearing aids, the showgirl who could still do the splits at the age of eighty-nine wouldn't have heard a word of this conversation. But now she and all the other retirement-home residents caught the words with crystal clarity. "Kill the beast?" said the showgirl. "You can't do that!"

One by one, word about the beast's potential murder spread among the crowd—until soon, each and every bird and person turned their backs on Miss Muddle so they could look at Bethany instead. Keith the Dove looked particularly appalled. "Sorry, am I boring you?" asked Miss Muddle, as she climbed down from the table. "I did tell you I'm not very good at speeches." "Explain yourself at once!" croaked the lizard lady. "What's all this talk of killing the beast?" "Ask her!" said Ebenezer, pointing at Bethany as if she were a great wallop of dog poop on a spotless pavement. The crowd gathered around Bethany in a mob now. Some started heckling her with insults. Others claimed that they always knew

that Bethany was a do-badder who didn't deserve a party all along. The rest bemoaned such cruelty to a creature as kind and wonderful as the beast. "Oh, ah—bother, please stop," shouted a voice. Everyone turned around and saw that Geoffrey had climbed on the table. "Let's allow Bethany to explain herself. She's my best… well, my best person, and I'm sure she wouldn't dream of doing anything like this. We wouldn't be friends if I thought she was in any way a killer. Go on, Bethany. Tell everyone that you didn't do anything to the beast." Geoffrey smiled encouragingly at Bethany, but she couldn't even meet his eyes. Guilt was pouring out of every pore of her body. And