It didn’t matter that he had been assigned to the biggest house on the block. Or that the family he lived with had ten kids to scare. Greedy Carlisle always wanted other monsters’ children.
He’d sneak into the scene of another monster’s scare, snatch up the victim, and scream, “MINE!”
His mother warned him time and again, “One day you’re going to grab a child from the wrong monster…”
But Carlisle would just roll his eyes and toss his head back with wreckless abandon.
His greedy thieving continued for years. He followed his fellow monsters everywhere- to the parks, to the ice rinks, to the DMV- taking and taking and taking every last terrified tyke he could get his talons on. No one could escape Greedy Carlisle’s grasp.
Then one sunny Sunday at the supermarket he spied a tiny slob monster, just seven inches high, preparing to scare a small boy. Carlisle did what he did best— he stomped right up to the slob, shoved him out of the way and shouted, “MINE!”
The child quivered. Carlisle laughed. Cans of beans rolled across the linoleum floor.
And then… a shadow enveloped the aisle.
The child pointed to the ceiling and let out a piercing scream. Carlisle turned around to see the slob monster, now several stories high, looming above him. A garbage-stained tongue reached down and grabbed him by his midsection. And as Greedy Carlisle drew his last terrified breathe, he heard an unexpectedly familiar “MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!”
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