7 The Better Kind of Beast

The Better Kind of Beast The beast spoke in a babyish voice that neither Bethany nor Ebenezer recognized. "Smells… humany." The beast paused to sniff again. "One of you lovely little humanies smells… musty, with just a hint of a word in my head that says 'leather.' Ooh! It's the smell of Nickle-Wickle! But there's another couple of odors here as well. I think I've smelled them before.…" The beast peeped an eye open, before quickly snapping open the others.

"OH EMMM GEEEEE! It's Ebby-kneesies and Bethany!" All three of the beast's eyes blinked rapidly, and it sat up. "There's something very, VERY important that I need to say to you. It's something I've wanted to tell you for such a very long time." Bethany and Ebenezer steeled themselves. The beast took a deep, stinking breath. "I just wanted to say… sorrykins. SORRY! Not sorrykins, SORRY," said the beast. It slapped itself in the face with both its tongues. "I'm finding it awfully tricky to get my tongues around the words in my blobby head." When Bethany looked at the beast, all the worst moments of her life were reflected back at her like a malevolent mirror. She had lived

this moment several times in her nightmares, but she had never expected it to be like this. "Still pretending to have lost your mind, then?" She tried to sound as confident as possible—knowing from her past that it was a mistake to show even a sliver of weakness in front of the beast. "There's no pretendsies about it, I'm afraid. All my memmy-wemms are gone. Whooshy-whoosh, bye-byesies!" said the beast. It scrunched its blobby face into a Very Serious Expression. "Nickle-Wickle's been telling me all about my horrid past. When he told me about all the things I've done—especially to you, Bethany—I couldn't believey-weave it. Some of the stories made me vommykins. And I'm not talking about the magical kind."

Bethany scowled. She'd been fooled by the beast's tricks before, and she'd promised herself that it would never happen again. "Oh dear. You don't believe me," said the beast. Its blobby face sagged mournfully. "You still think I'm that beastly beast who did all those dweadful things." "Probably because you are the beast who did those things," said Bethany. "But I'm not that beasty anymore—stinky-promise!" said the beast. "Tell her, Nickle-Wickle!" Mr. Nickle cleared his throat. "The beast is telling the truth. A comprehensive series of brain-wave scans has revealed—" "Not interested in brain-wave scans," said Bethany, as she tried to figure out the beast's

next move. "I know the truth about the beast. So you can shut it." "Oh, Bethany—I know you're crossy-woss, but please don't be mean to Nickle-Wickle. He's been ever so good to me," said the beast. "You're worried about hurting people's feelings now, are you?" said Bethany. "I've changed!" said the beast. "When I learned the truth about myself, I couldn't believe that anyone could do anything so evilicious! It felt like I was hearing about nastinesses done by someone… or something… else." "Are you saying that you're actually feeling… regret?" asked Ebenezer in astonishment, stepping closer to the laser cage.

"Don't be fooled, gitface. It's a beastly scheme," said Bethany. She turned back to the beast. "And don't think for one second that we're going to let you get away with it!" The beast's three black eyes filled with tears of frustration. "But I have changed!" it said, stomping one of its tiny feet in frustration. "And I've done it because of you two." Bethany and Ebenezer looked at each other. "This should be good," Bethany said. "I feel a bit embarrassed explaining it," said the beast. It fiddled with its tiny hands and pointed all three eyes in the direction of the floor. "But I kept seeing the two of you in my dreamsies. The more I dreamed of you, the more I wanted to see you. I asked Nickle-