Chapter 17

chapter seventeen Quint rushes around the tree house in a panic. Below us, I spot Dirk running for Quint's garage workshop. Entire trees are knocked down, ripped

from the earth, as Acid Blarg stomps closer. His thick black claws swing like great blades. June's face is so white, it's nearly see-through. "Let's keep running!" she shrieks. "We can't stay! He's going to rip this tree house from the ground." But we can't do that. I can't do that. Because see, here's the thing. Here's the truth. This tree house isn't just any old tree house. It's my home. For the first time in my life I have a real, permanent home. And Quint and June and Dirk—for the first time in my life, I have real friends. Permanent ones. Not- going-anywhere ones. A family. Everything I was ever jealous of—everything those other kids had, when I felt like a crummy orphan. Well, now I have it. Sure, it took the freaking MONSTER APOCALYPSE for me to get it. But there's no way I'm losing it now. Not to this big jerk.

WE DON'T RUN! THIS IS OUR TPEE UOUSE! NO ONE MESSES WITU OUP Tpcc UOUSC! I grip the tree house railing. Acid Blarg's next step crushes the fence around the backyard. Another crushes our wooden pike things. "Outer defenses breached!" Quint hollers.

Unleash the little hug Monster-Stopping Juice Grenades. So, a fact about Little Hugs—they're the best. If you've never had 'em, get 'em. They're sweet and delicious and taste like sugary chemicals—and when they're empty, they make for perfect monster- stopping juice grenades. Quint concocted a killer recipe.

Little Hug, Monster—Stoppins Juice Grenades! Lemon juice. Trivexol yzetide. pop rocks. Extra strength, dandruff Shqmpoo. Honey, dijon salad dressing, Mayonnaise, Acid Blarg howls as the liquid grenade concoctions crackle against his hardened head. He claws at his sizzling skin. "JACK, THE SECOND CATAPULT!" Quint yells. "You, um—you guys have a second catapult?" June asks. "Duh!" I say with a grin, then leap to a dangling rope and swing around to the other side of the tree

house. There, Quint has a giant branch pulled back and tied to the floor of the tree house deck. The second catapult. The catapult basket is a rusty old refrigerator box, stocked with crud from around town: bike seats, microwaves, bricks, car doors! Time to unleash the junk! I bring the Louisville Slicer down, hacking through the rope, and— JUNK ATTACK!