Fiendish Deeds Read Online Free PDF

with a loud, booming voice. “When a man needs to go, he needs to go. Did you see that? How crazy the kids went? This idea is a serious moneymaker.”
    “Yes, Mayor. And all it cost us was a season pass to what is effectively a swamp at this point.”
    “You’re a genius, Phipps, a real credit to the MacBrayne administration. I won’t forget this, come next salary review.”
    “Speaking of which, when might such a review occur, sir?”
    “Pure genius!” continued the man with the booming voice. “Speaking of the bog, how are the bulldozers doing? What’s the current schedule for clearing it all away?”
    “The bulldozers have already cleared the scrub for the parking lot, but unfortunately we can’t give them the go-ahead to start major excavation and drainage until the resident vacates.”
    “That crazy old woman’s still living in there?” The voice was alarmed. “But we need to start breaking ground! We won’t get a penny more out of our investors unless they’re sure we can open by next summer.”
    “I know, sir.” There was a loud blowing of a nose. “However, the bog’s a pretty lonely place for an insane old widow. Plus, I didn’t mention—I was able to get the old man’s full name off his gravestone this morning. Now we can easily look into their ridiculous claim. Don’t worry—the project will go ahead as scheduled.”
    Byron could hear the tap running and the thwump-thwump as bubblegum-scented soap was dispensed, then the tearing of scratchy brown paper towel.
    “Okay,” said the man with the booming voice. “I trust you, Mr. Phipps,” he said, sighing heavily.
    “Thank you, sir.”
    There were footsteps again, then silence. Byron waited, then poked his head out. The washroom was empty.
    He scurried off to class.

    Byron and Joy sat side by side on the bus ride home.
    “What do you mean, what was that all about?” asked Joy. “Weren’t you paying attention at assembly?”
    “Umm, no,” answered Byron stiffly, “I was…drawing.” Byron didn’t often lie to Joy, and his throat clenched like he’d inhaled the eraser off a pencil.
    “The mayor said they’re going to build some giant water park here,” explained Joy wearily. “The Misty Mermaid or something.” Joy rolled her eyes. “Mermaids, how lame is that? Why not sea monsters, or a ghost ship theme with skeleton pirates? I am sure it’s going to be all disgusting and cute….”
    Joy then wondered what the judges had thought of her own entry in the Darlington, City of the Future competition. It was a drawing of Byron’s—the view from the ground as a hovering UFO unleashed a devastating heat ray on a happy little town. Under it she had written in large block letters: THE FUTURE?
    “That big wave looked pretty scary to me,” said Byron.
    “That was just the artist’s conception,” replied Joy. “A wave like that would put the food court in the parking lot—and believe me, that’s the last thing they’d want.”
    “What’s an artist’s contraption?”
    “An artist’s conception —a painting of how it might look when it’s done. But it’s completely imaginary, and doesn’t mean a thing. I doubt very much it will actually include monorail service or somewhere to park your flying car, for example.
    “What I want to know is where are they going to put it. Because if I have to wake up every morning looking out over some pathetic theme park for prissy little princesses, I am gonna puke.”
    Byron didn’t bother speculating, but instead began staring out the window, lost in a dream. He was like that a lot lately, Joy noticed, like a sleepwalker dressed in a pair of brown corduroy pajama bottoms.
    Joy, on the other hand, felt like she was in her usual waking nightmare, culminating with Miss Keener making her stay after class—for a word .
    “You do bring these things on yourself, Joy,” Miss Keener had lectured her. “I had only asked for a simple book report. And although I do appreciate that you