Fergus paused.
Willa couldn’t stand it. “Who lived there?”
“I was getting to that. Shall I continue?”
“Yes, please.”
Pops fetched two ceramic coffee mugs from a cabinet, splashed a bit of ‘shine in both, and then handed one to Fergus. Red caterpillar eyebrows lifted in surprise.
“Much obliged, Skeeter.”
“My pleasure. Makes the stories easier to tell.” Pops winked.
“I daresay. Let’s proceed, then. It’s more a matter of what lived there, rather than who lived there,” he said. “Yes, yes. It looked human on the outside...but its alabaster skin was too flawless to be human. Its hair too luxurious and shiny to be human. Its figure too shapely, its waist too tiny, and its legs too long to be human.”
Willa frowned. “You just described Barbie.”
One caterpillar levitated while blue laser beams targeted her. “Exactly. Barbie was a monster.”
“Barbie was a lump of molded plastic.”
“That’s what the toy manufacturer wanted you to believe, but in fact, the real-life inspiration for that lump of plastic lived and breathed, just as real as all of us sitting here, and dwelled within the mysterious forest.”
Willa had to give the little man points for creativity.
“Her real name was Barcaloungerbeelzebub, but Mattel shortened it to Barbie because it tested better with the focus groups. Until word got out about Barbie’s true nature, many folks and creatures went missing, lured into the house by her superficial beauty as well as the freshly baked dingle-berry pies perpetually cooling on the sill of an open kitchen window. On a side note, this is where the wicked witch came up with the idea for her gingerbread house. She figured an entire edible house would work better than one pie, and since she had to compensate for warts and green skin, it was definitely a smart career move. But I digress...”
He took a sip of the ‘shine, which made the blue eyes water suddenly.
Willa grinned at ‘dingle-berry pie.’ The story wasn’t spooky at all, but she suspected Fergus would be entertaining reading an instruction manual.
“For years, Barbie used her beauty and her dingle-berry pies to lure hapless folks and unsuspecting woodland creatures into her house, where she would consume them, bones, eyeballs, gall bladders...everything.”
“How did she consume them?” Willa interrupted.
“How do you think?”
“Well, each type of monster has its own MO. Vampires suck blood, zombies eat brains, and werewolves pretty much just rip you to shreds.”
Fergus nodded. “Indeed. Did you know that the digestion process of many spiders actually begins outside the spider’s stomach? After trapping its prey, the spider will inject it with venom, wrap it in silk, and wait for it to die. To get a jump on things, Spidey vomits digestive fluids onto the unfortunate moth or the grasshopper with bad timing, then sucks up the liquefied meat juices.”
“That’s gross.”
“Spidey doesn’t think so. Barbie’s process was similar. Once she lured her prey into her house and disabled it, she would spew it with stomach acid and suck its meat juices with a shiny straw. Not a plastic straw, but an earth-friendly stainless-steel straw, because Barbie was a monster, but she was an environmentally conscious monster.”
Pops snorted. The red beard twitched.
“One day, Barbie noticed movement in the nearby woods, so she quickly placed a freshly baked dingle-berry pie on the window sill and waited. A handsome woodsman with blond hair, a chiseled jaw, and impressive glutes appeared just outside her gate. Barbie’s eyes opened wide in surprise. Her stomach juices didn’t gurgle like they usually did when she spied prey. Instead, her heart began to flutter and the palms of her hands became sweaty. She decided she wanted to kiss that handsome woodsman...she had read about kissing during her monster teen years.
“So she opened her front door and struck an enticing pose. The woodsman, coincidentally named Ken, smiled a charming, handsome-woodsman smile, walked toward Barbie, swept her off her feet and into his strong arms, and then carried her into the house. She slipped her arms around his neck while he gazed down at her with adoration. Just when she thought he was about to kiss her, he vomited digestive fluid all over her pretty face and luxurious hair, waited for her to congeal, and then sucked her up with a brightly colored plastic straw. Because Ken was a monster who didn’t care about the environment.”
“Nice!” Willa said. “What happened to the children, though?”
“Oh, right. So the children came along soon after Ken had consumed Barbie, and since he had also eaten the dingle-berry pie on the windowsill as a post-Barbie dessert, they passed right by the rickety gate and proceeded toward the gingerbread house a bit farther down the road. Within minutes, they stood on the path leading to a golden-brown front door framed by candy canes. It stood slightly ajar, beckoning them to enter. The sister tugged on her brother’s sleeve, gesturing that they should go inside. But the brother, who was wise beyond his years...” Fergus winked at Harlan, “Shook his head adamantly. No, it’s not safe, he said. Can’t you see that this is a trap? To which the sister replied, Yes, of course, but we’re faster than that old, warty green hag. We can grab the sweets and be out of there in two farts of a swamp rat.”
Willa snickered. Harlan grinned.
“And because the sister usually got her way, the children crept up the path and peered through the open front door, which smelled of cinnamon and molasses. But the aroma emanating from inside the house wasn’t so pleasant. Before the children could decide what to do
