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Hi everyone, here's Part 3. As ever, if you want to do some fan art for it, please do! Here's the previous part:

Part 2.

Let's begin...


Freaky Fun-Fair of Frights: Part 3

“C’mon, kid! Whatcha waiting for? An invitation? Hahahaha!”

“Alright, alright,” moaned Mark. In his arms he was carrying a ventriloquist dummy, an evil ventriloquist dummy. He was called Slappy, and he’d declared that he wanted ‘fun’. And apparently, Mark was part of whatever gruesome fun the dummy had planned.

“Now!” rasped Slappy. “Do it!”

Slowly and deliberately, Mark shoved into a large, burly man standing at a stall.

“Hey, punk!” the man growled. “Watch where you’re going!”

“I’d say the same for you!” Slappy snarled suddenly. “If you actually had a chance of seeing past your massive stomach!”

“Why you little…” roared the man, thinking it was the kid controlling the dummy.

“I mean, what did you eat for lunch? A blue whale? Maybe a lorry and a jumbo jet while you’re at it! To be honest, I think that woolly mammoth you ate for breakfast was a bit too much. You could have at least spared that T. Rex you gobbled up for dessert!” Slappy cackled evilly.

The man was seething with rage now. Suddenly he lunged at Mark, who dodged aside and began to run away.

“A little goodbye gift,” said Slappy who threw back his head, then snorted out a load of boiling hot, bright green gunk that hit the man in the chest, and pinned him to the ground. “Acid nosebleed, anyone?” laughed the dummy. Mark ran for his life, throwing a quick glance back at the angry crowd. Unfortunately, he ran head first into a tall, thin, tough-looking fairground worker. Or maybe fairground security. He could be a SWAT officer, by the look of him. He wore the standard purple-blue overalls worn by all the workers here. He had a number of tattoos, and was black with shaved hair.

“You, kid,” he said in a cold, growling voice. “You’re coming with me.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” Slappy swung his wooden fist. There was a flash of electricity, and the man was hurled aside, bouncing off the side of a tent. He groaned and began to stand up, unsteadily.

“Come on, kid!” Slappy commanded. “Unless you’d like to end up in a fate worse than death, I’d advise you to get those pathetic legs of yours moving!”

Mark ran, and hid behind a stall, that’s only items were too ugly shrunken heads, one aqua-marine with bulging, bloodshot eyes, and the other small, toxic-green and prune-like, with wispy white hair.

“Thanks for saving me, Slappy,” breathed Mark. “That was scary!”

“Saved you? Hahaha, I wish!” the dummy shook with maniac laughter. “I prefer my slaves in one piece, and that thug got on my nerves, anyway! Now, I think its time for you to become like me! You’ve certainly proved yourself!”

Slappy took a deep breath, then blew out. What looked like a pea-green fog snaked out his mouth, and began to enter Mark’s nose. Then Mark felt something on the sole of his shoe. It was a piece of paper. Then he remembered: the words that had brought Slappy to life. He’d discarded it carelessly, but he must have trod on it, and it stuck to his shoe. Quickly he lifted up his foot. There it was; it was mud-stained, and covered in rips and holes, but it was still readable.

“Karru Marri,” began Mark.

“Oh no, you don’t!” screamed Slappy. “You’re making Slappy unhappy!”

He swung his hand at Mark’s throat, but the boy dove aside, and kicked at Slappy. The dummy stumbled into the stall, and gave a scream as he landed a few inches from the small, wrinkled shrunken head. He desperately began to crawl away, but that gave Mark enough time to pick the paper off his shoe and finish reading the words.

“Odonna, Loma, Molonu Karrano!”

“No!” shrieked Slappy, and he collapsed, lifeless, his mouth frozen in a terrified gasp. Mark breathed, relieved, and began to stood up, when a powerful hand descended on his shoulder.

“Now I’ve got you!” growled the skinny security guard.



Louisa ran for her life, the slime right behind her. A racoon scuttled over to the large, green slime path and nibbled at it. It gave a squeak of surprise as it suddenly began to grow, larger and larger, until it was the size of a large lion. Several passers-by stared in surprise at the gloopy blob that chased after the small girl. Louisa hid behind a caravan and tried to think of a plan, when a fairground worker appeared angrily. He was large and bulky, almost as wide as he was tall. He was pale, with short, greasy brown hair, shades and a scar on one cheek.

“Hey, stop there!” he barked in a gruff voice. “The boss wants ya!”
Louisa stared in terror as the man-mountain pulled out a walkie-talkie. “Yeah, Buster, I’ve found the second – WAAAAGHH!” A sudden tidal-wave of monster blood knocked him off his feet. Louisa took her chance to escape and ran, when suddenly the monster-racoon, now the size of an elephant charged into her. She groaned as the humongous thing hissed, its face contorted in anger, its teeth bared. Slowly it stood up, when a waterfall of green crashed into it. The monster blood wasn’t giving up. It reared up like a snake at Louisa, who desperately looked around for something to help her. Then she saw a fifth-grader from her class holding two strange purple tubs.

“Oh, hey Louisa,” he said. “Look what I got, purple peanut butter. Apparently, it shrinks you tiny, like that.” He pressed his fingers together, until there was only a tiny speck of light shining through them. “Cool, huh?”

Then he noticed the monster blood, frozen above Louisa, looking with annoyance at the kid. “What is that thing?!”

“Uh, could I have some of that peanut butter please,” begged Louisa.
“Fine, you can have one of the tubs. I’m gonna take the other to school.”

He tossed one of the purple tubs at Louisa, then strolled off.

The monster blood suddenly came crashing down towards Louisa. Desperately she ripped the lid off one of the tubs and tossed the purple peanut butter at the monster blood, who swallowed it, then shook madly. It stood back up, trembled, then began to shrink, until all that remained was the tiniest little blob of monster blood. She put it in her pocket, then sighed. Suddenly a large figure appeared behind her.

“Thought you’d escaped, huh?” thundered the burly worker. “The boss wants a word or two with you!”



Jamie handled his his camera admiringly. It had just destroyed a whole stall.

“What shall I take a photo of next?” he muttered, when he noticed someone very unpleasant standing a few feet away. He began to run away, when the person charged up to him, and grabbed him.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Dweeb-face James,” said Ron Carter, one of the school bullies. “Hey, Harry!” Another boy, ugly and sneering, with messy black hair lumbered over. Harrison Harrold was Ron’s fellow bully, older and tougher, although Ron was much rougher.

“What you got there, loser?” he scowled. “Some old camera your granny gave you? Haw-haw!”

“Yeah,” grunted Ron. “Can’t afford a good phone to take pictures? Have to use that old thing you found in the dump, I bet! Ha!”

“It’s a cool camera!” said Jamie defensively. “It’s self-developing.”

“One of those old Polaroid things, huh? They’re worth a hefty sum of cash, I bet.” Harrison rubbed his hands together.

“Hope you don’t mind your old mates Ronnie and Harry taking that, do you?” sneered Ron. “Give it ‘ere!”

“Wait,” said Harrison. “He might ‘ave broke it. Need to test it out. Loser, take a picture of us!”

“Whatever you say!” said Jamie as he raised the camera. FLASH! The picture printed out instantly. Jamie looked at it in surprise. Harrison and Ron were covered in horrid warts, their faces were swollen beyond proportion and they were both sprouting antlers. He stifled a snigger.

“Hey, don’t laugh at us!” growled Ron. The two boys lunged at Jamie, who threw himself on the ground. They fell onto a stall labelled ‘DANGEROUS CURSED OBJECTS } CHEAP!’.

Jamie sprinted away, as the boys began to grow horrible facial features, and change a sickly purple. Before he could get away, he ran into a tall, thin worker blocking his path. 

“I hear you’ve been causing trouble…” the man hissed. “The boss is expecting you. Now give me that camera!”

Jamie swung the camera desperately.

"Say cheese!” he shouted. FLASH!

To be continued...

There, hope you enjoyed. Slappy Halloween!

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