The World's Worst Fairy Godmother Read Online Free PDF Page B

it!”
    Susan puckered up her face. “Ha.”
    Maybelle rolled her eyes.
    â€œHa-ha?” asked Susan.
    â€œPathetic,” said Maybelle sadly.
    â€œHa-ha-HA!”
    Maybelle just shook her head.
    â€œTeach me!” demanded Susan.
    Maybelle sighed. “You don’t need to be taught, silly. The laughter is already there. You just have to let it out.”
    Susan made a face that looked a little like she had just swallowed a frog. Then she rolled her eyes back in her head, as if she was trying to see what was there. “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
    Maybelle giggled. “You sound like a drumroll.”
    Susan folded her hands in her lap and pursed her lips. “I was trying my best. Effort should always be rewarded.”
    â€œWell, try harder at not trying. That should be an effort for you.”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œLaugh!”
    â€œHa?”
    â€œLaugh!”
    â€œHoo?”
    â€œLaugh!” cried Maybelle. Standing up she flung her arms wide, as if she was conducting a symphony. As she did she stepped backward, tripped over a stump, and tumbled to the ground.
    Susan burst into peals of laughter.
    â€œNow that’s not funny!” snapped Maybelle.
    â€œIt sure looked funny,” gasped Susan. Quickly she put her hand to her mouth. “But you’re right. It wasn’t nice to laugh at your misfortune. Oh, no!”
    â€œWell, it wasn’t all that bad,” said Maybelle, getting to her feet. She shook herself and the dirt and leaves clinging to her dress disappeared in a shower of little sparks. Two twigs and a leaf remained stuck in her hair.
    â€œI know it wasn’t terrible,” said Susan. “But it wasn’t perfect, either. And if I’m not perfect—”
    â€œPeople won’t like me,” finished Maybelle. She sighed. “Listen, Susan, the truth of it is, no one is perfect. Good grief, even fairy godmothers can make mistakes. But even though you’re not perfect—”
    â€œHey!”
    Maybelle sighed and started again. “Even if you weren’t perfect I would like you just fine.”
    â€œYou would?” cried Susan in astonishment.
    â€œOf course I would. I do.”
    Susan paused. “I like you, too,” she said at last, as if she was trying out the words to see how they sounded.
    Maybelle looked as surprised as Susan had a moment earlier. “Really?” she asked.
    Susan scrinched up her face as if thinking real hard. “Really!” she said at last. Then, as if she had said too much, she added quickly, “But I should go see my grandmother now.”
    Grabbing her basket, which now had Maybelle’s love apple on top, Susan started down the path.
    â€œHave a good time,” called Maybelle.
    As she stood and watched Susan go, she was so excited it was all she could do to keep from floating.
    â€œThis is going to be just… lovely!” she whispered to herself.

Chapter Eight
The Old Switcheroo
    Farther along the same path Zozmagog sat clutching his magic crab apple, waiting impatiently (which was the only way he ever waited) for Susan.
    Zitzel crouched in a bush on the other side of the path. His job was to create a distraction when Susan finally showed up. He was to do this by being very quiet until she appeared, and then making a sudden movement. The main problem was that Zitzel hated being quiet, and wanted to move all the time.
    â€œStop wiggling, you little git!” hissed Zozmagog, after he heard Zitzel shake his bush for the fifteenth time in five minutes.
    â€œGeez-o-pete, boss,” whined the little imp. “Gimme a break, will ya?”
    Before Zozmagog could answer Susan arrived, swinging her basket and singing, “She likes me, she likes me, she green and yellow likes me. She likes me, she—”
    Zitzel shook the bush he was hiding in so hard that several leaves fell off. Susan stopped in her tracks. “Goodness, what was that?”