3 The Panic and the Muddle

The Panic and the Muddle The beast—unlike anything I've ever seen," said Mr. Nickle. "We need some—who can—the beast." Ebenezer wondered why Bethany's hand was gripped so tightly around the phone. She turned around—and, with a single look, he knew who the call was from.

"Nickle says there's something going on with the beast," she said. "Has he opened up a puddle portal for us? I'll get the D.o.R.R.i.S. rain boots," said Ebenezer. "I got a better idea," said Bethany. She slammed down the phone. Ebenezer's mouth dropped open. "You can't hang up on D.o.R.R.i.S.!" he said. "Can and did," said Bethany, trying to sound confident. "It's for our own good." "But—but—but… shouldn't we try and—" began Ebenezer. "WE ARE NEVER SEEING THAT DRIBBLY STINKER AGAIN!" shouted Bethany.

"I, er… oh, fine then," said Ebenezer, even though he was feeling in a distinctly un-ohfine-then mood. Caged or not, it felt like a mistake to ignore the beast—especially when there were secret agencies involved. "If it's important to you, I'll make it important to me. I read a comic about friendship a few decades ago, and it said that this sort of thing is very important." The phone started brring-brringing again. Bethany and Ebenezer gave it much the same stare as someone who has returned home to find a wild bear in their living room. Bethany unplugged the phone from the wall. "Do NOT plug it back in," she said. "We can't just act as if nothing's happened!" said Ebenezer.

"Yeah, we can," said Bethany. She pulled her backpack over her shoulders and headed for the door. "Come on—you're driving me to the sweetshop." Bethany dragged Ebenezer into the car for the shortish drive to Miss Muddle's sweetshop. "Look here, are you absolutely positive that we shouldn't—?" began Ebenezer. "That conversation with Nickle didn't happen, and this conversation isn't happening either," said Bethany. "Stop driving like a granny, and get moving." Ebenezer slowed his pace because he didn't care to be bossed about in his own car. However, he soon came to regret it. He had distributed many of his specially commissioned paintings around the

neighborhood, complete with information about services that the Wise Tweezer could offer. Ebenezer usually drove past too fast to pay them much attention, but now that he was going slowly, he saw that unfavorable changes had been made. The paintings had been graffitied with unibrows, stupid hairdos, and twirly-whirly mustaches. Many of them had been given unfavorable speech bubbles. For instance, the painting of Ebenezer dressed in his best tennis clothes, which had been hanging so wonderfully outside the library, now had a speech bubble reading I am a twerp, while the more formally dressed Ebenezer outside the Cussock Theater simply read USELESS.

As they passed the louche loungewear painting outside the zoo, Ebenezer spotted some handwriting he recognized. "Did… did you do that one, Bethany?" he asked. "My waistcoats do not make me look stupid." "Sozza, I was bored on my way home one day. And besides, my message actually covered up one that was way meaner," said Bethany. She saw Ebenezer's face fall. "Whoops. Probably shouldn't have said that."