You Can't Scare Me! by R. L. Stine Read Free Book Online

saying. It seemed to make sense. “What do you mean by big?” I asked him. “You mean like an elephant?”
    He frowned and shook his head. “Eddie, where are you going to get an elephant? I mean like a big dog. You know. A huge, growling dog.”
    â€œA dog?” I scratched my head.
    â€œYeah. Let’s say this girl Courtney is walking down the street, or she’s in the woods, maybe — and suddenly she hears angry growls and snarls. She looks up and sees this enormous dog, its mouth open, its fangs bared, running right at her. That’ll scare her. No problem.”
    â€œNot bad,” I said thoughtfully. “Not bad. You’re a genius, Kevin. Really.”
    â€œTell me about it,” he replied. He walked out of the room, leaving a muddy trail behind him.
    A huge, growling dog,
I thought. I pictured it in my mind. I pictured it raising its head to the moon and howling like a wolf.
    Then I pictured Courtney walking innocently down a dark street. She hears a sound. A low growl. She stops. Her eyes grow wide with fear.
    What’s that noise?
she wonders.
    And then she sees it. The biggest, meanest, loudest, angriest dog that ever lived. Its eyes glow red. It pulls back its heavy lips to reveal a mouth full of pointy fangs.
    With an earth-shattering growl, it makes its leap. It goes right for her throat.
    Courtney cries out for help. Then she turns. She’s running now, running for her life, shrieking and crying like a frightened baby.
    â€œHere, boy,” I call to the attacking beast.
    The dog stops. It turns around. It walks quickly to me, its tail wagging. Courtney is still crying, still shaking all over, as the dog gently licks my hand.
    â€œIt’s only a dog,” I tell her. “Dogs won’t hurt you — unless they sense that you’re
afraid
!”
    I jumped up from my bed, laughing out loud.
    It’s definitely worth a try,
I thought excitedly.
Definitely worth a try.
    Now, who do I know who has an enormous, growling, ferocious dog?

14
    Saturday afternoon we were in Charlene’s backyard, trying out the new croquet set her father had bought. It was an overcast day. High clouds kept blocking out the sun, sending long gray shadows over the back lawn.
    The roar of a power mower from next door made it a little hard to be heard. But I was telling Molly, Charlene, and Hat about my brother’s idea for scaring Courtney.
    â€œA big, angry dog is way scary,” Hat quickly agreed. He tapped his mallet hard against his green croquet ball and sent mine sailing into the hedge.
    Molly frowned. She still hadn’t forgiven me for the tarantula incident, even though I had apologized a thousand times. She straightened the bottom of her yellow T-shirt over her black shorts and prepared to take her turn.
    â€œWe need a dog that really looks vicious,” Mollysaid. She slammed her ball hard. It missed the hoop and bounced off a wooden peg.
    â€œI guess my dog, Buttercup, could do it,” Charlene offered, sighing.
    â€œHuh? Buttercup?” I cried out in surprise. “Get serious, Charlene. Buttercup is a big, lovable oaf. He couldn’t scare a fly.”
    A teasing smile formed on Charlene’s face. “Buttercup could do it,” she repeated.
    â€œOh, sure,” I said, rolling my eyes. “He’s real vicious. That’s why you gave him a vicious name like Buttercup.”
    â€œIt’s your turn,” Molly said to me, pointing to my ball way over at the hedge.
    â€œThis is such a boring game,” I complained. “Why does anyone like it?”
    â€œI like it,” Hat said. He was winning.
    Charlene cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Buttercup! Buttercup! Come here, you ferocious beast!”
    A few seconds later, the big Saint Bernard came lumbering toward us from the side of the house. His bushy white tail was wagging hard, making his entire backside waggle as he hurried across