Say Cheese - and Die Screaming! by R. L. Stine Read Free Book Online Page B

to hear more of your reports about true things that
happened to you,” Mr. Saur told the class. He turned to a girl in the front row.
“Marci, I believe it is your turn. What is your report about?”
    Marci Ryder stood up. “It’s about my cat, Waffles. It’s about all the funny
things Waffles does around the house.”
    I groaned. Bor-ring! I thought. A few other kids groaned, too.
    But Mr. Saur actually smiled. The first time ever!
    He practically purred! “I like cats,” he told Marci. “I have six of them
myself.”
    Oh, yuck! I thought. Six cats!
    I can’t sit through a boring report about a boring cat! I told myself.
    I shot my hand into the air and waved it frantically. “Mr. Saur? Mr. Saur?”
    The teacher’s smile faded. “Greg—now what?” he demanded.
    “Uh… before Marci starts,” I said, “can I show you the camera? You know.
The one from my report? You said if I brought it in and proved that it’s evil,
you’d change my grade.”
    Mr. Saur rubbed his chin and frowned at me. “It’s Marci’s turn,” he replied
coldly. “I know we all want to hear about Waffles.”
    “But, Mr. Saur—you promised!” I cried.
    A few kids snickered. My voice was so high, only dogs could hear it.
    “Greg, you’re not going to change my mind,” Mr. Saur insisted.
    “But I can prove it!” I pleaded. “I can prove the camera is evil.”
    A few more kids snickered.
    “Greg is evil!” Donny shouted.
    It got a big laugh.
    “Greg is baaaaad!” some other kid shouted.
    Another big laugh.
    Mr. Saur slammed the chalkboard with his wooden pointer. “Quiet, everyone.”
He sighed and motioned me forward. “Okay, Greg. One minute. It isn’t fair to the
others to give you extra time. But I’ll give you one minute to show off your camera.”
    One minute!
    I knew that’s all I needed.
    I felt my shirt pocket to make sure I had the snapshot of Jon inside. I knew
that once Sourball saw that photo and heard what happened to Jon that night,
he’d believe me.
    “Come on, Greg,” the teacher urged. “Get up here. One minute.”
    “Coming,” I said. I eagerly tried to stand up.
    Tried again.
    Again.
    We have those chairs with the desk attached to the front.
    And I was stuck in the chair. Too fat to get out!

 
 
18
     
     
    What is happening to me? I wondered, feeling panic creep up from my stomach.
My big blobby stomach.
    I climbed into this chair without any problem. That was less than an hour
ago. And now I’m stuck in here. I must have put on a hundred pounds while I
was sitting here!
    “Greg, we’re waiting.” Mr. Saur rolled his eyes and tapped the chalkboard
impatiently with the pointer.
    On the fourth try, I finally managed to slide out of the seat. Carrying the
camera carefully, I tromped up to the front of the room.
    “This is the camera,” I told Mr. Saur. “My friends and I found it in a
deserted house. Just as I said in my report. The camera has a curse on it, and—”
    He took the camera from my hands and examined it. He rolled it over and over.
He brought it up close to his face. He raised the viewfinder to his eye.
    “No—don’t!” I shrieked. “Don’t take a picture!”
    He lowered the camera. “If I don’t take a picture, how will I know if the
camera is evil or not?”
    I reached into my shirt pocket. “I brought a photo,” I told him. “This will
prove I’m telling the truth.”
    My fingers were so fat, I had trouble poking them into the pocket. My hands
felt like squishy balls of dough. They were too blobby to make a fist!
    I nearly pulled the pocket off as I struggled to take out the snapshot of
Jon.
    Finally, I pulled it out and shoved it in Mr. Saur’s face. “Here. Look!”
    He took the snapshot and studied it.
    “That boy is named Jon,” I told him. “I took his picture two nights ago. He
was perfectly okay. But the photo showed him with a nail through his foot. Two
minutes later, it came true. Jon got a nail in his foot, and his dad had to rush
him