Pencil of Doom! by Andy Griffiths

Fiona.
    â€˜If only it had been!’ said Mr Brainfright. ‘But alas, no . . . A few weeks after the grieving parents had buried their son in a graveyard two kilometres from their home, the wife of the man sat up in bed and said, “The monkey’s paw! We still have two wishes! Why don’t we wish our son alive again?”
    â€˜My father’s friend was very reluctant—after all, the monkey’s paw had tricked them the first time, but his wife wouldn’t be put off. He finally took the monkey’s paw in his hand and wished his son alive again.’
    â€˜And did he come alive again?’ Newton asked in a shaky voice.
    â€˜Well, no,’ said Mr Brainfright.
    There was a collective sigh of relief from the class.
    â€˜Not at first . . .’
    There was a collective gasp.
    â€˜The man and the wife went back to bed,’ Mr Brainfright continued. ‘But two hours later, they heard a tap at the door downstairs. “What’s that?” said the wife. “Just rats,” said the man. “No,” said the wife, “it’s our son! He’s come back. We should have realised! The cemetery is over two kilometres away. It’s taken him this long to walk back!”
    â€˜There was another tap . . . and another . . . and yet another . . . And before my father’s friend could stop her, his wife leaped out of bed and headed downstairs. But not him. He had a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling. Their son’s body had been mangled in a machine. Given the way the monkey’s paw had tricked them on the first wish, even if their son
was
alive, who could tell what condition he would be in, or whether he would even really be their son?
    â€˜
Tap, tap, tap
 . . .
    â€˜The man dived onto the floor searching for where he’d dropped the monkey’s paw after his second wish. He had to find it before his wife opened the door!
    â€˜
Tap, tap, tap
 . . .
    â€˜The man could hear his wife drawing the bolt on the front door.
    â€˜
Tap, tap, tap
 . . .
    â€˜Just as his wife was about to open the door, the man found the paw, held it tight in his hand, and wished his son, or what was left of him, dead again.
    â€˜His wife opened the door and there was nothing there except for the sound of the wind.’
    As Mr Brainfright finished his story a collective shiver ran through the class as we imagined what might have been standing on the other side of that door.
    Then, all of a sudden . . .

37
Tap, tap, tap ...

    Tap, tap, tap . . .
    There was tapping on our classroom door.
    Everybody in the entire class screamed and jumped out of their chairs at the same time.
    All except David Worthy.
    David went even further.
    He jumped out the window . . . again!
    Newton made the strange, high-pitched noise he’d made yesterday, involuntarily flinging his rabbit’s foot across the room and into the face of a girl from grade three who had come to our door.
    â€˜Ouch,’ she said.
    â€˜Don’t panic, everybody,’ said Mr Brainfright, grinning. ‘It’s just a monitor.’ He picked up Newton’s rabbit’s foot and tossed it back to him.
    â€˜I’ll go and tell David,’ said Jack, getting up and putting his head out the window. ‘It’s okay, David,it’s not a lion or a mangled factory worker! It’s a classroom monitor!’
    â€˜I knew that!’ David called back. ‘Don’t think I was jumping out the window because I was scared. I just needed some fresh air.’
    â€˜Okay, David,’ said Jack, smiling. ‘Have it your way!’
    â€˜That’s enough, Jack.’ Mr Brainfright chuckled as he turned to the girl. ‘Now, how may we help you?’
    â€˜Sorry to interrupt,’ she said, looking more than a little freaked out by our class’s behaviour. ‘I