You Are A Monster

By Edward Packard
Illustrated by Judith Mitchell

WARNING!!!

Do not read this book straight through from beginning to end! These pages
contain many different adventures you may have when you are kidnapped
by an evil scientist and transformed into a monster. From time to time as
you read along, you will be asked to make a choice. Your choice may lead
to success or disaster!

Each adventure you take is the result of your choice. You are responsible
because you choose! After you make each choice, follow the instructions to
see what happens to you next.

Think carefully before you make a move. Life as a monster is not easy.
Your choices will affect whether you change back into the way you were, or
remain trapped as a monster forever—or something even worse!

Good luck!
Turn to page 1

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

EDWARD PACKARD is a graduate of Princeton University and Columbia

Law School. He developed the unique storytelling approach used in the
Choose Your Own Adventure series while thinking up stories for his
children, Caroline, An-drea, and Wells.

ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR

JUDITH MITCHELL was born and raised in New York City. She earned a
Bachelor of Fine Arts degree from Chatham College and has also studied
art at the Columbia University School of Arts and at the School of Visual
Arts in New York City. Ms. Mitchell is the illustrator of Outlaws of
Sherwood Forest, Enchanted Kingdom, Mystery of the Secret Room, and
Seaside Mystery in Bantam's Choose Your Own Adventure series. When the
illustrator isn't working, she enjoys music, animals, cooking, collecting
antiques, and travel. Judith Mitchell lives in New York City.
The blue Mercedes screeches to a stop beside you.

"Get in!"

The heavyset man wearing a black homburg isn't kidding. Before you can
run, a man jumps out of the back and shoves you inside. The car speeds off.
None of the passing motorists notices—you've been kidnapped!

Wedged in the backseat between two thugs, you try to think about what you
can do.

"Look, you must think I'm someone else— some rich kid you can get
ransom for—"

"Shut up. We want you." The muzzle of a .45 jabs into your side.

The Mercedes swerves around a corner, headed toward an outlying district.

A blindfold pulls tight over your eyes. "You were looking curious," a voice
says.

It must be about ten minutes later when the car stops and you hear the door
opening.
"Get out!" A firm grip is on your arm.

When your feet touch the ground, you tear the blindfold off, twist out of the
man's grip, and start to run!

CLUNK! A gun butt comes down on your head. You're out cold.

Turn to page 68.

Dr. Firenze gives you a sedative, so you hardly feel it when he injects you
with his genetic formula. It isn't long before you begin to feel strange
sensations. Within a few hours it's clear what's happening: you're shrinking
—and that's good news. The bad news is that you're not getting back the
fine, young body you once had. Instead, you're becoming spindly and
smaller than you were, and you still have hair all over! What's worse, you're
growing a tail! And when you try to talk, all you can make are little
screechy sounds!

You can't help but think about what it is you're becoming, especially when
you notice you've developed a tremendous craving for bananas.

The hospital staff provides you with everything they think you want, even
going so far as to install a trapeze in your room. One day while you're
hanging by your tail you hear footsteps coming down the hall. You drop
down on your bed just at the moment Dr. Firenze, Amanda, and Mr. and
Mrs. Vandergraft walk into your room. You sense that they've come because
Dr. Firenze has done everything he can for you, and it's time for the next
stage in your life to begin.

Turn to page 96.

When everyone is reasonably used to having you around, and after you've
helped clean up the kitchen, you all sit down in the living room for a family
conference. There aren't any seats big enough for you and you don't want to
break anything, so you just sit on the floor in front of the fireplace.

Your spirit has been lifted by coming home, most of all because you've been
accepted by your family and know everyone still loves you, even though
you're a monster.

But now suddenly you feel very let down and depressed. How can you go to
school the way you are? No matter how nice your family is, you're going to
be nothing but a repulsive and terrifying sight to everyone who sees you—
at best an object of curiosity, like some freak.

Your head droops, your brain feels numb, you don't know what to say.
You've never felt lower than you do right now.

Turn to page 7.
Dr. Nair holds up his hand. His thin mouth lengthens into a smile. "It's too
late. I've already implanted you with the genes of a young gorilla, who was
himself implanted with genes of a giant bear."

"Wha—?"

"Now," Dr. Nair interrupts in a brisk and businesslike tone, "someone will
bring you dinner, some books, and a TV set. I want you to feel relaxed ..."

Before you can reply, this strange and terrifying man walks out the door. A
lock turns.

You run to the window. You're on the second story of a run-down, old brick
building. The window faces onto a paved inner courtyard. Two cars and a
truck are parked below. The building encloses the courtyard, except for the
entrance, where an armed guard is posted.

There's a bathroom attached to your room. You look inside, but it offers no
means of escape. Your heart sinks. It's not going to be easy to get out of this
place. Then, the real shock comes as you glance at your arms. They seem
thicker and longer than you remember, and a downy growth of dark brown
hair has appeared on the back of your hands.

Turn to page 81.

"It's Vargas!" Meyerstraub yelps.

Vargas, you remember, is the man Meyerstraub wanted you to frighten.

"Get us out of here!" Meyerstraub screams at the pilot as you clamber on

board.

The jet engines roar even before you have the hatch shut. The plane starts
down the runway.

The helicopter, traveling faster, swoops closer.

"Duck!" the pilot yells.

A hail of bullets rips through the fuselage! One of them nicks you in the
back. For the first time you see the blood of a monster—your own blood!

Turn to page 105.

"It's terrible what you've been through," your mom finally says. "I only
hope the police can catch the man who did this to you."

You nod.

"I can see you're feeling down," your dad says. "It's perfectly
understandable, after your ordeal."

"I think it would be a good idea for you to see Dr. Rasmussen," your mom
says. "He's a very good psychiatrist, and maybe he can help you adjust to
the situation you're in."

"Yes, that's a very good idea," your dad says. "I think you'll find it very
helpful to talk to Dr. Rasmussen."

You hardly stir from your place on the floor. At last you look up. "Sure,
Mom, Dad . . . anything you say."

Turn to page 13.

Every day you keep growing. It's near the end of the first three weeks when
you first bump your head while walking into the bathroom. It doesn't hurt, it
just knocks a strip of wood off the transom, but it's this fact—bumping your
head—that makes you realize you've been pretending you're still the
regular, normal kid you were before. Finally you dare to look at yourself in
the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. There you are, or
there's part of you—for you have to squat and wiggle from side to side to
see all of yourself.

You let out a scream that rattles the windows and echoes through the yard.
Your body is as massive and hairy as a gorilla's, but your face is far more
frightening: Your black-capped snout is like a grizzly bear's. Your jaws and
two sharp, slightly curved fangs remind you of a saber-tooth tiger, and your
huge, overhanging brow looks like that of a hammerhead shark.
You slap at the bathroom door. It flies off the hinges. The mirror shatters.
You roar in agony and rage. There is no doubt what's happened: You are no
longer the person you were—YOU ARE A MONSTER!

Turn to page 90.

Another car is traveling fast down the road. Best to keep out of sight for
now, you think, ducking behind a thick clump of bushes. Peering through
the branches, you see that the car is a police car. So is the one behind it, and
the one behind that! They're stopping in front of the house. One car blocks
the entrance. Two cops jump out. Each has a hand on his holster as if ready
to draw. They must have been tipped off about Dr. Nair and figured out that
he's the one who kidnapped you. But they showed up too late. If only they'd
found out about him three weeks ago, you'd still be the happy, normal kid
you were, instead of the weird, hulking monster that you are now.

You hear a cop yelling from inside the courtyard. One of the others pulls his
gun. Should you come out of hiding and explain what happened? After all,
the cops are on your side—except that if you show yourself the way you
look, one of them might just blow you away!

If you come out of hiding, turn to page 87.

If you stay hidden, turn to page 14.

"I've been thinking about your future," says Mr. Vandergraft. "The way I see
it, you can never be really happy—never lead a normal life—unless you can
be turned back into yourself again."

"But how can that ever happen?" you wonder aloud.

"Well, for one thing, there's a new unit at Federal Hospital, specializing in
genetic change. The director, Dr. Firenze, is practically a genius. He might
be able to return you to your normal self. But I have to tell you, it may be
risky. If it doesn't work ..."

Mr. Vandergraft's voice trails off, but you don't have to hear his words to
know what he was about to say. He's thinking that you might end up in an
even more monstrous form than you're in now.

Turn to page 89.

Two days later you find yourself in the office of Dr. Karl Rasmussen, the
renowned psychiatrist, He is a large man who sprawls, rather than sits, on
the leather chair he pulls out from behind his desk.

"Sit wherever you like." He motions you toward a leather sofa and an
oversized chair next to it. "Maybe you'd like to sit on the floor and lean
back against the sofa."

"ARRRAGH," you say softly, and sit on the floor so you're now eye-level
with the famous doctor.

"You certainly are quite a monster," he begins.

"I'm not a very happy monster," you say. "I can never lead a normal life. I
can't go to school looking like this—everyone will be afraid of me. Or make
fun of me."

The doctor nods. "Yes, that may happen for a while, but not for long."

"Really? Why?"

"Because you'll know how to handle the situation. " Rasmussen's eyes
twinkle while he talks, as if he is delighted at thinking how well you will
adjust.

"How do you mean?" you ask.

"Well," the doctor replies, "imagine that you were a normal student and one
of the other kids was the monster. How would you react?"

Turn to page 82.

You stay hidden in the brush while the police search the house. You have
nothing better to do, so you practice learning to talk again. Your mouth has
changed so much, your tongue feels as if it's tied in knots. The cops seem to
be taking forever. You wonder what they thought of the splinters of wood
they found upstairs where you smashed down the door to your room.

Finally they come out, muttering among themselves. They drive off, but
you know they'll be keeping a close eye on the place until they find Dr.
Nair. Meanwhile, you've got to figure out what to do—you need as much
food as three grown men, and you don't have any money.

Maybe someone would take you in as a pet. You could go home, of course,
but your family would be just too broken up to learn that you've turned into
a monster. For now it seems better to have them just think you ran away.

You wander along, keeping behind hedges and walls. You're in the richest
part of town, and most of the houses are set well back from the road. You've
only gone a short way when you have to duck through a hedge to keep from
being seen. You almost run into a woman cutting flowers in her garden.

Turn to page 54.

"My men will show you to your room," Meyerstraub purrs. "It's specially
made for you out of concrete and steel. You'll get all the good food you like,
so you ought to be pretty happy."

And so you're in prison once again, besieged, lonely, and endangered.

Your bed is soft, but you can't get much sleep. In the morning the guards
come for you, and once again you are brought before Meyerstraub. Smiling
and cheerful, he says, "Well, Monster, I hope you slept well. Now it's time
for you to go to work."

"What do you mean?" you say.

"Do you know who I am?"

"You're a big crime boss," you answer.

"Not a big boss. I'm the biggest—the king— you got that?"

You nod your huge, shaggy head.

"And I'm king because I get what I want. You know how I get it?"

"No," you say.

"I get it by using the carrot and the stick. I appeal to two major human
traits: greed and fear. And I do that by doling out lots of money, and an
equal amount of terror."

You sit there dumbfounded by what Meyerstraub is telling you. Yet you
also know that he speaks a dark truth: Money and terror are the tools by
which he has amassed so much power.

Turn to page 25.

You continue on over the brow of the rise and across a spacious, sloping
lawn graced with magnificent trees. As you walk past a sprawling copper
beech tree, a voice calls down from above.

"I see you, Monster."

You try to see who's calling down from the branch—and find a girl, perhaps
ten or eleven years old.

"I see you too," you answer. "Do you live in that big house?"

"Uh huh," the girl replies. "My name is Amanda Vandergraft, and I like
you."

"Like me? That's amazing! Everyone else hates me. Why would you like
me?"

"You didn't hurt my dogs," Amanda says, "so I know you're a nice
monster." She jumps down from the tree and lands a few feet away from
you. "You're nice, but you're ugly."

You hang your head. "I know."

She reaches up with her little hand and touches your right paw. "I've read all
about you in the newspapers, and you're on all the news programs on TV.
The police are looking for you."

"I know—"

"Why haven't you gone home to your family?"

"I don't think they could handle it," you reply, "knowing their kid has turned
into a monster."

"I see what you mean," says Amanda. "Well, you can stay at our house for a
few days. We have lots of room and plenty of extra food in the freezers. It's
up to you."
"Your parents wouldn't mind?"

"I think I can talk them into it," Amanda says firmly.

You're grateful for Amanda's kindness; at the same time you're feeling a
little homesick. You're not sure what to do.

If you decide to accept Amanda's invitation, turn to page 65.

If you decide to go home, turn to page 55.

A few days later you start school again. None of the kids tease you or make
comments. But you almost wish they would. They're too respectful, as if
they've all been told you're very fragile and they have to be nice. Even your
best friends talk to you very softly and respectfully, as if you're a very old
person visiting the school.

But gradually things loosen up. By the end of the year you've been elected
president of the Student Council and, of course, captain of the football
team. You've more friends than ever and, feeling good about yourself once
again, you learn more too.

When you graduate, you write a book, My Life as a Monster. You appear on
all the talk shows and in music videos (you cut a few records of your own),
and make it big in the movies and on the stage. In just a few years you earn
three Grammys, five Emmys, two Tonys, and a couple of Oscars. By then
lots of people are calling you "that lucky monster."
The End
Another week has passed. You're still in police custody and being guarded
twenty-four hours a day. You miss your family and friends, but you just
can't face their seeing you as a monster—at least not now. You've been
looked at, examined, photographed, and talked to by dozens of detectives,
politicians, scientists, and reporters. All these people have asked you so
many questions, you have a stiff tongue from answering.

You've learned things too. You've found out that the cops know Dr. Nair is
the evil scientist who transformed you, that he's still at large, and that
everyone is worried what he'll do next. One reason they want to catch him
is that he's the only person in the world who might be able to reverse your
condition, except for maybe a doctor at one special hospital.

The mayor himself arrives and informs you of their decision. "Look," he
begins, "you're an innocent victim of this man. And we're doing everything
in our power to bring him to justice. You are entitled to your freedom, but
for your own safety as well as others', we can't give it to you. You would
frighten too many people. If you were found wandering around loose,
sooner or later some crazy nut would shoot you."

"What about my civil rights?" you say. "You have no right to keep me
locked up!"

The police commissioner shakes his head. "The fact is, you have no civil
rights," he says brusquely. "They only apply to people—and you're not a
person anymore—you're a monster!"

Turn to page 102.

It's four A.M. You're standing outside the bedroom door in the Key West
oceanfront villa of Guillermo Vargas, who is supposed to be second only to
Meyerstraub as the most powerful crime boss in the world.

Two men with machine guns are downstairs. Meyerstraub has warned you
that they'll finish you off unless they hear Vargas screaming. That'll be the
only proof they'll accept that you've done your job.

Turn to page 23.

You carefully open the door to Vargas's bedroom. It's enormous, and you
can see quite well by the reflected glow of the security lights in the yard.
Vargas, wearing fancy striped pajamas, is sprawled on his stomach in the
middle of a canopied four-poster bed. He's almost surrounded by pillows.
You wonder whether he has a gun under one of them.

The room is cluttered with electronic equipment, and you count three
different telephones. But what most attracts your attention are the hundreds
of packs of currency stashed on the floor. You inspect them closely. Each
pack contains at least a hundred fifty-dollar bills! You wonder whether
they're counterfeit, or if they're real— stolen from banks!
Vargas stirs fitfully in his sleep. He mumbles something, but you can't make
out the words. He seems about to wake up. You've got to act now.

You glance out the window. It's about a twelve-foot drop to the soft grass.
Maybe you can jump for it and escape from the thugs waiting on the stairs
below.

If you continue to follow the plan and roar to terrorize Vargas, turn to page
116.

If you try to jump for safety, turn to page 49.

If you try to call the police to tip them off, turn to page 111.
You agree to submit to a genetic implant, and you're given a room in the
Advanced Genetics wing of Federal Hospital. While you're waiting for Dr.
Firenze to begin his treatment, you walk restlessly around your room. Pretty
soon you hear weird sounds—sort of a cloppity-clop, clop in the hall. You
peer out to see what's going on. A man— or some kind of creature—is
walking by, with orderlies marching along on each side of it (or him). The
creature is walking on four legs, and the lower part of his body looks like
that of a small horse, but the upper part looks like the upper body of a man!
You remember seeing creatures like these, called centaurs, in your
mythology books in school.

A nurse walking by stops to talk to you. "Quite an achievement, don't you

agree?" He gestures toward the centaur, which has reached the oversized
elevator farther down the hall.

"Is that Dr. Nair's work, too?" you ask.

The nurse shakes his head. "No, that's the work of Dr. Firenze—didn't you
know?"

This news hits you like a bombshell. You realize that, although he's working
in Federal Hospital, Dr. Firenze is an experimenter and may not be very
different from Dr. Nair! Who knows what experiment he has in mind for
you!

You're not going to wait around to find out. You go back to your room, grab
your toothbrush, and head for the exit. Everyone stares as you hurry past.
People scream and run, knocking over carts as they scramble to get out of
your way.

Turn to page 106.

"You'd think," Meyerstraub continues, "that you could scare people enough
simply by pointing a gun at them. But this is a tough business. Sometimes
it's very hard to convince them. Do you follow me?"

"Sure." You've only been half listening, because you've been quietly inching
forward, transferring weight to the balls of your feet and calculating the
possibilities of springing onto Meyerstraub and holding him hostage.

"Well," the crime king continues. "I have a certain rival. Guillermo Vargas,
who is very smart, and very tough. He has a powerful organization. I want
him to work for me, but he refuses. Do you see the problem?"

You nod, casting a glance at Meyerstraub's two guards. They look pretty
relaxed.

"Now as I say, Guillermo is very tough," Meyerstraub continues, "but he's

very superstitious. If I warn him that he'll sleep uneasily if he doesn't
cooperate, and then if he has a real nightmare, that might bring him
around."

"Sure, that makes sense," you say.

"So," Meyerstraub says triumphantly, "you're going to appear in

Guillermo's bedroom—while he's sleeping—and you will be his
nightmare!"

"But isn't he guarded?" you ask.

"His guards can be bribed. I provide the money; you provide the terror, got
it?"

If you jump Meyerstraub, turn to page 30.

If you decide to play along with his plan, turn to page 98.
You try to answer, but your mouth is no longer the same shape as it used to
be, and all that comes out are grunts and garbled words.

"Can you understand English?" the chief asks.

You nod.

He takes off his cap and scratches his head. He looks around at his men as if
hoping one of them will suggest something, but they all seem equally
dumbfounded.

"Okay," the chief says after a while, "Robertson, take your squad in and
search the place. Mullen and I will take this creature back to the station
house."

"ARRRAGH," you answer.

Three cops move in with their guns ready; you have no choice but to step
into the van.

You sit quietly on the floor. There's nothing you can do. A heavy, wire mesh
screen separates you from the cops. You're sure that you could smash open
the door and jump out, but what would be the point? Sooner or later they'd
capture you and either shoot you down or lock you up behind bars that even
you couldn't break out of.

You're depressed. It's bad enough being a monster, but not being able to talk
and explain things makes it twice as bad. "Ah cn tak—I can talk—" you say,
struggling to form words that once came so easily.

One of the cops whirls around. "Hey, it can talk!"

"That ain't talking," the other one says.

You'll have to practice when you're alone. You've just got to learn to talk
once again.

Turn to page 20.

"ARRRAGH!" You let forth a mighty roar and advance toward your foe.

The grizzly roars back—and charges! He lunges to bite your neck, but you
deflect his head with a single chop of your arm. It would be more than
enough to knock a lumberjack flat on his back, but the grizzly isn't even
fazed. He comes at you again.

"ARRRAGH!" You bring your massive paw down on the bear's neck, but
you miss as he ducks and grabs your midsection. He's trying to crush you!

"ARRRAGH!" Now you're mad. You kick the bear's shins with such force,
the animal bellows with pain. Then with one mighty heave you throw him
over your head and hurl him to the ground.

The grizzly lies there, stunned. Then he slowly gets to his feet. He walks up
to you, his head bowed in submission, and rubs along your legs like a house
cat. Out of the shadows up ahead, two other adult grizzlies and a couple of
half-grown cubs appear. They make no move to attack and seem content to
follow their leader in his submission. You have not only been accepted by
the bears as one of them, but you've been acknowledged as their leader!

The other bears group and start into the forest. They travel only a dozen
feet, then stop and look at you. They want you to come with them. You're
amazed and happy. None of the humans at the lumber camp have wanted to
be your friends, but these bears do. Maybe you should go with them. Maybe
it would be the best life for you—living like a bear. It's tempting to join the
grizzlies. You certainly don't want to stay in this lumber camp anymore,
especially with Fenwick out to get you. On the other hand you're not a bear,
after all, and you long for human companionship.

If you go with the grizzlies, turn to page 103.

If you run away by yourself, turn to page 33.

Your mighty leg muscles contract, and in a spasm of unleashed energy you
lunge at the crime boss. Horror flashes across his face as he raises his hands
in defense. Your claws reach not for his neck but for his shoulders, so that
in one deft motion you can twist him around and use him as a shield.

Only a single second is involved, but time seems to slow to a crawl. It

seems as if the trigger-happy goons should have plenty of time to fill your
body full of holes. Perhaps they are too stunned, but that long second passes
without a bullet being fired, and in the next instant you have Meyerstraub in
your claws. You whirl him around and confront the guards. "Drop your
weapons!"

"Drop them," the crime king commands.

Their machine guns hit the floor.

"Very good, very good," Meyerstraub says. "You are more talented than I
realized. Now that I know that, I'm going to reward you."

Surprised by his sudden turnaround from a frightened coward to a smooth-

talking underworld boss, you grip his shoulders even more tightly.

Turn to page 95.

You let Meyerstraub down gently to the ground. "I'll accept your offer,
subject to my conditions," you say. "First of all, I want you to order your
entire security force in here so you can tell them I'm in charge. That way,
there won't be any mistake about it."

Meyerstraub looks up at you. He straightens his rumpled jacket. "Sure, I'll

summon everyone over the public-address system I control from my desk."

You follow the crime king closely toward his desk, but you never reach it.
A hail of bullets knocks you down. As you fall you turn and see the guards.
They had hidden pistols.

It takes a lot of bullets to kill a monster, and you live long enough to hear
Meyerstraub say, "Good work, boys. Monsters are just too dangerous to
keep around the house."
The End
You decide not to go with the grizzlies but instead go off by yourself,
determined to make it on your own.

Though you're protected by a growth of shaggy hair, you've no desire to

endure the bitter cold winters of the interior. Knowing the climate is milder
along the coast, you head west through the wilderness, living on deer,
rabbits, and wild berries.

You have to learn to hunt and move through the forest like any other wild
animal. You notice things most people don't—faint impressions in the grass,
broken sticks, a spoor—that mark the trail of your prey. You sleep wherever
you please—on a mossy patch, a bed of leaves, or in a hollow under a cliff.
It doesn't matter. No animal would dare attack you.

Turn to page 40.

Outside the window you see the flashing lights of the first police cars. Then
you hear shouts in the yard below. Lights shimmer around the room—
reflections from searchlights. Then voices, footsteps, running, shots!

"Freeze!"

An eerie silence.

"Take them away!" someone shouts.

You feel easier—the thugs are in hand!

Then a rapping at the door. "Walk out slowly with your hands over your
head!"

That's just what you do, carrying Vargas above you.

The cops do a double take, but they get the picture fast.

"You're not just a monster," the chief tells you as he reaches up to pat your
shaggy shoulder. "You're a hero!"

"ARRRAGH! I mean, thanks," you say humbly.

You know you'll always have some problems as long as you remain a
monster. But at least now you have proven that you are not a threat to
society.
The End
One evening you come upon a small cabin. You peer in the window. No one
is there. The door isn't locked, so you push it open and walk in. You cast
your eyes at the bunks, the kitchen, and the big locking chair facing a
fieldstone fireplace. Seeing this cozy cabin makes you long for human
companionship.

You wave your paw over the wood stove in the corner—it's still warm—
someone must have been here earlier. Then you notice a newspaper lying on
a table. The headline says: MONSTER SIGHTED NEAR TELEGRAPH
PEAK. There's a very fuzzy picture of you. A smaller headline is really
alarming: MOUNTIES HUNT MONSTER.

You slump down on a couch that runs along the wall opposite the fireplace.
It creaks and groans under your weight. You groan, too, because you've just
about given up all hope of getting back to the way you were. You're not a
criminal, but you're being hunted like one. It makes you feel like crying.
Then the idea of a monster crying makes you laugh!

Suddenly the cabin door opens.

Turn to page 71.

After a few days at the logging camp, you can see why they wanted you to
work here. With your enormous strength you can throw huge logs around as
if they were pieces of kindling wood. Most of the time you work at carrying
heavy machinery and supplies over rough terrain where even a tractor can't
move. Joe, the foreman at the camp, is a nice enough fellow. "I don't ask
questions about the men working for me," he tells you. "I just ask how
much work they've done each day. Of course, you're not a man, but I'm
going to treat you the same way."

You feel a little better, but not a lot better. Although some people act
decently toward you, you aren't able to make friends with anyone. People
are just too afraid of you—afraid you'll suddenly act like a monster. And
then there's Mike Fenwick. He used to be the leader around this place, and
he doesn't like the fact that, next to you, he looks like a weakling. You
figure it's just a matter of time before he makes a move against you.
One day you're cutting down small trees with chain saws. You're so much
stronger than the others, you start doing their work too. Climbing down in a
hollow, out of sight from the others, you notice Fenwick working on a
stump.

"I'm having trouble with this," he yells over the roar of machines.

"I'll help you," you say, ambling over. As you start cutting, something
makes you look up—just in time to see Fenwick swinging at you with his
chain saw!

Turn to page 108.

"Yes. He's living at a house in Elm City—about fifty miles from here. My
men tracked him down by tracing purchases of lab equipment. He set up a
lab in the house he's bought, and if I'm not mistaken, it's only a matter of
time before he kidnaps someone else and turns him into a monster!"

"If only I could get my claws on him," you say.

"This is his picture." Zena holds out a Polaroid photo of a man standing on
the front porch of a large white house.

"But that's not Dr. Nair!" you exclaim. "I'd recognize him anywhere!"

Zena smiles. "You were fooled, just as the police were. You forget this man
is a genius—he was able to give himself just the right injection of genetic
formula to cause his face to change."

"Then how do you know it's Dr. Nair?"

"Voice analysis," Zena says. "We got hold of a tape of a speech he made at
the university a few years ago, before he took up his criminal ways. Then
last week we made a tape of his voice when we reached him on the phone.
Computer analysis of the two was conclusive."

"That's incredible!" you say.

"It's good news for another reason," says Mr. Vandergraft. "It means Dr.
Nair has gotten so advanced in his methods that he can probably turn you
back into the person you were."

"But how can we make him do that?"

Mr. Vandergraft looks sterner than you've ever seen him.

"We'll make him," he says.

Turn to page 64.

"If there are genetic-transplant techniques that can change one's body," you
say, "there must be ones that can change one's personality. Isn't that right,
doctor?"

"Why, of course," Dr. Nair says, squirming as he speaks. He acts more

afraid of you now than he did when you were a monster.

"Then you shall transplant yourself—not to change your body, but to

change your personality—from that of a psychopath to that of a decent
human being."

"But I can't do that."

"You must," Mr. Vandergraft says sternly.

Dr. Nair lets forth a squeal as if he'd been stuck by a pin.

"What's so bad about becoming a decent person?" Amanda demands.

Dr. Nair's eyes widen. He looks at her, imploringly. "My brain! No! I can't
change part of my brain without changing all of it. I would lose my skills at
genetic manipulation."

Mr. Vandergraft steps up to the strange little man. "That's just as well,
doctor. That's just as well."

Turn to page 76.

Occasionally you pass another lumber camp or a hunter's cabin. From time
to time you cross a logging road. Finally you reach a highway. You stand
near the edge of the road and watch a big truck roll by. It weaves crazily for
a moment, then slows, then speeds up as it rounds the bend. The driver must
have seen you. You walk along the road a way, ducking into the brush when
a car or truck appears. Up ahead you hear the sound of machinery. You
round the bend and see a crew at work repairing the road. One of the
workers looks up. He yells. The others stare at you, dumbfounded. One man
runs toward his truck. He reaches inside and yanks a heavy-gauge shotgun
from under the seat.

You waste no time slipping into the woods. You trot a bit, dodging through
the trees, then scramble up a steep, rocky slope. You're safe, but you've
been reminded again that most people fear you. It's a general truth, it seems:
What people fear, they tend to hate.

You continue on for the next few weeks, heading west and living off deer
and small game. You try to keep clear of the roads and settlements, but the
region is becoming more populated as you get nearer to the coast.

Turn to page 35.

"Don't shoot!" you cry. "I'm human!"

The man doesn't reply until he has his rifle unsnapped and leveled at you.

"That ain't what's in the papers," he says. "What about that guy Fenwick up
at Twin Lakes Camp? He says you tried to kill him and he had to hold you
off with a chain saw."

"That's a lie! He was out to get me—he wants to frame me."

"Then why did you run away from the camp?"

You bury your great head in your paws. "I was miserable there." You throw
up your paws in despair and then quickly lower them as the man nervously
fingers his rifle. "Everyone hated and feared me, just the way you do!"

The man rubs his stubby beard for a moment. "Look, I don't hate you, but
you've got to admit you're frightening."

"See, that's what everyone thinks!"

The man lowers his rifle so it's just pointing at the floor near your feet. "I'd
feel more comfortable," he says, "if you'd just sit over on that bunk in the
corner. Then I can get some soup going on the stove. I've worked up quite
an appetite out hunting." He looks at you curiously. "Do you eat regular
food?"

You nod. "I'd love some."

The hunter gets out some cans from a cupboard and starts opening them.
"Okay," he says as he works. "Maybe we can reach an understanding, then
we'll have some soup."

Turn to page 84.

Out of the corner of your eye you see shadowy figures lurking in the
bushes, but no glint of any weapons. When you reach the limo, you squeeze
into the back, moving Meyerstraub around to shield yourself as much as
possible.

"Tell the driver to go," you say.

"To the airstrip," he squeaks.

The limo roars off—still no shots are fired.

Ten minutes later, as the car drives through the valley far below
Meyerstraub's hideaway, you're relieved to see the airstrip up ahead. The
same plane that brought you here is sitting outside the corrugated tin shack
that serves as the airport building.

"Pull up real close," you tell the driver.

You see the pilot looking out from the cockpit. You scan the airport shack
but see no sign of any of Meyerstraub's men. It seems almost too easy. You
get out with the human luggage under your arm and start up the three-step
portable staircase next to the door of the plane.

Suddenly there's a thap-thap-thap-thap-thap in the sky—a helicopter

swoops toward you!

Turn to page 6.
You plan to get up in the night and do a little hunting. Otherwise, you'd
have to finish off all of your host's supplies by breakfast time.

"I've been thinking about you," Watkins says. "It ain't good hiding out from
the law all the time. I know. Enough time has gone by so I think I can go
back without being caught, and I think you better go back too."

"I'd like to, but what could I do?" you ask. "People hate me. They fear me
and treat me as if 1 were—"

"—a monster?" Watkins completes your sentence for you. "Yeah, well,
that's what you are, of course."

"If only I could track down Dr. Nair—he's the evil scientist that did this to
me," you say. "He's the only one who can reverse my condition."

"If you're ever going to get back to the way you were, you're going to need
money," Watkins says gravely.

"I agree, but—"

"I've got a couple of ideas. My brother-in-law works for the Apalachicola

Circus—they're the second biggest one in America now. They'd pay you
plenty."

"I've always liked the circus," you say. "It might be fun to be in the show."

"My other idea," Watkins says, "is to get a movie contract. You could make
a million in half a year if you're lucky."

"Yeah—if I'm lucky."

"Well, what do you think? Whatever you decide, I'll be your agent. Just give
me twenty percent of what is paid to you for landing you the job." Watkins
is all smiles now. He looks like a little kid who's excited by a new toy.

You finish your soup and lay into the stale carrot cake Watkins set out on
the table. You're tired of living alone in the wilderness, and you sure could
use a million dollars to help you get cured.

If you decide to join the circus, turn to page 61.

If you decide to try to land a movie contract, turn to page 50.

Early one day you leave the bears and set out on your own, heading
southwest, toward the coast. Your shaggy coat has grown so thick that you
hardly notice the blustery winds blowing out of the north, even though they
sometimes bring sleet and rain, sometimes snow.

One morning you poke your snout out of a den you've dug out under some
rocks and find the ground covered with a foot and a half of snow.

Though winter has arrived, you soon find yourself liking it, because it's
easier to track game when there's snow on the ground. Roaming across the
country in search of food, you revel at the sight of the majestic mountains,
the great stands of spruce and fir, the ice-clad streams, and the white, puffy
clouds scooting across the sky. You breathe great gulps of pure, cold, pine-
scented air. You're so glad to be alive and free that you let out a roar of
delight.

Turn to page 59.

You work your way quietly to the French doors leading out onto the
balcony. They're open to let in the breeze off the ocean. You step out on the
balcony and look down. It's quite a drop, but you'll be landing on grass, not
concrete, and once on the ground you should have no trouble. The dogs are
tranquilized, and Vargas's two guards at the gate have already been paid
their bribes and are out of the picture. Meyerstraub's thugs are still waiting
for you at the bottom of the stairs. All you have to do is run out the gate and
slip into the dense brush around the corner. The thugs won't dare follow
you.

You heave your great bulk over the railing and jump
You land harder than you'd expected—with a loud thud. A stabbing pain
goes through one leg It's broken! You thought that you would have no
trouble because of your massive bones. You didn't realize that big animals
fall faster and land harder than little animals.

You look up but can't focus at first. Gradually you notice Vargas staring
down from the balcony. Then you see Meyerstraub's thugs coming out the
front door. The only question is who will shoot you first.
The End
"A movie contract—that's for me!" you say.

"I don't think you're making a mistake," Watkins says.

"But how do I get there without being seen?"

"No problem," Watkins replies. "I have a Winnebago—borrowed it from a

friend of mine. I pay a farmer to let me keep it behind his barn. It's about
ten miles away over the ridge."

It's a four-day trip from British Columbia to Hollywood, and once you get
there you have to stay in the Winnebago (which is not even air-conditioned)
while Watkins tries to convince a movie producer he has a great monster for
the screen. It's hard to get an appointment with these producers, much less
get a contract from them, and Watkins is delayed even more because he has
to disguise himself and get phony identification in case the cops are still
looking for him.

At last he lines up a meeting between you and the casting director of a

movie being made— Swamp Creature on the Loose. You're hired on the
spot. The work is easy. All you have to do is walk around the set, roaring
every now and then, while the movie people set off smoke bombs that are
supposed to look like mists rising up from the swamp.

You get pretty good pay for making the film, but the movie turns out to be a
bomb at the box office.

Turn to page 72.

Watkins stares right into Tazewell's eyes. "The monster gets ten percent of
the gross plus five percent for me."

Tazewell is on his feet, his face so red, you're afraid he'll have a heart
attack. "What do you mean—this is robbery!"

Watkins answers in a low tone, but it's very firm just the same. "It's not
robbery at all—it's the best deal you ever had, and you know it. With the
monster you'll double your business in no time."

"ARRRAGH!" You let out a roar of agreement.

Tazewell practically jumps out of his chair, then he bursts out laughing. "I
still say you're a thief, Watkins, but you're on. Hold out your paw, Monster,
and we'll shake on it."

It's not easy for you to shake hands with humans without breaking a few of
their hand bones, but you remember that you're basically civilized, so you're
very careful.

Tazewell and Watkins toast to their business deal, while you wolf down a
few big chunks of meat that were meant for the tigers. Suddenly it occurs to
you that Watkins has decided to take more of your pay for himself instead
of the twenty percent he mentioned originally. You decide to let this pass,
however, because he did such a good selling job with Tazewell.

Turn to page 75.

Once again you lie writhing and moaning while your body undergoes
horrendous changes. But this time, though the experience is still
frightening, you feel hope. You can feel your snout shortening, your body
shrinking. Your two-inch-long fangs fall out, and new, normal teeth come
in. Shaggy hair falls off your body. From time to time you brush it off your
bed.

You reach the point where you're half monster and half human. Then
nothing more happens. I hope it doesn't stop here, you think. But soon you
begin changing again, faster than ever.

Only a few days later. Zena, all the Vandergrafts. and Dr. Nair, himself, still
under guard, are once again standing around your bed. Everyone is smiling,
even Dr. Nair. Amanda has brought a big mirror into the room. You look
into it and grin— you're you again! You scream with delight in your regular
voice. You're still a little weak and shaky, as if you were just getting over
the flu, but you've never felt happier in your life!
A nurse rolls in a cart and you all celebrate with cake and ice cream.

"I still have the appetite of a monster," you say.

"You look as nice now as you used to look nasty," says Amanda.

"Now what shall we do about Dr. Nair?" asks Mrs. Vandergraft.

"We certainly can't just let him loose," Mr. Vandergraft says.

"I have a better idea," you say.

Turn to page 39
"Ahheeek!" the woman screams louder than you thought anyone could. She
starts running toward her door, yelling for help every step of the way.

A maid opens the door and sees you. She screams even louder than the
woman who was cutting flowers.

You know the cops will soon be on their way to that house, so you cut back
through the hedge and lope along the side of the road at a good clip, not
even trying to avoid being seen by the cars and trucks passing by. You keep
your eyes on where you're running, but you hear the horns honking, brakes
screeching, and people yelling out their windows.

You cut down a side street. There aren't many houses here, just woods and
fields on one side and a huge rolling lawn on the other Scattered here and
there around the lawn are enormous trees Beyond the lawn, perched on a
knoll about a hundred yards from the road, is a huge house made of brick
and fieldstone. It has six gables, four chimneys, and a red tile roof Beyond
this mansion is more lawn and then thick woods. The people who live here
must be really rich!

You race across the lawn, keeping well away from the house. You figure
that if you get over the rise ahead and reach the woods, you can keep clear
of the cops who will be swarming the place where you were first spotted.

Turn to page 101

You're anxious to get home, but it seems best to call first and prepare your
family for the shock. Your monstrous heart beats at a tremendous rate as
you reach into a phone booth and dial your number

"Hi, Mom, it's me," you say.

"Oh, at last!" she cries. "It's so good to hear your voice, though it does
sound a little strange—are you all right?"

"Yes, Mom. . .sort of. I'll be home soon and tell you all about it."

"Well good, darling I don't want to hold you up talking, I can't wait to see
your face again. Can't we pick you up in the car?"

"No, Mom, I'll get home by myself "

"Will you be safe?" she asks

"Don't worry, Mom. Nobody's going to jump me."

"Well then, please hurry home—and we'll talk about it later."

"Just one thing I want to tell you before I get there, Mom."
"What's that, darling?"

"I've become a monster."

Turn to page 78.

The next three weeks are very relaxing. The Vandergrafts couldn't be nicer
The cops have given up searching in the area. You've grown stronger than
ever—feasting on everything your monstrous stomach craves—and you've
gotten into terrific physical shape racing the German shepherds around the
grounds. Amanda has even taught you to play tennis She started out beating
you every time, but lately you've been smashing the ball down the line so
hard she can't even reach it, much less get it back over the net. On the other
hand, she still beats you in swimming races in the pool. Your monstrous
arms churn up a lot of waves and foam, but they can't move you through the
water as well as human arms could.

Mrs. Vandergraft has been giving you French lessons (your strangely
shaped mouth makes it easier for you to speak French than English!) and
Leonie, the cook, has taught you how to make what she calls monster pie.
It's mostly chocolate.

All in all, life couldn't be more pleasant. Still, you're restless. Great as life
is, you know you can't stay with the Vandergrafts forever. The other
members of the family know this too, and one evening all of you discuss it
at dinner.

Turn to page 11
Years have passed since you left the bears and began to roam the forests and
mountains alone. Only rarely have you caught sight of human beings, and
even more rarely has one of them seen you. More often, hikers come upon
your tracks. They measure and marvel at them. Legends about you spread
far and wide—some of them fanciful, some of them true. Most people call
you Bigfoot. But, of course, that's not your name. Only you know who you
really are.
The End
One paw on the weasel-faced thug who's threatening you would be all you'd
need to subdue him, but you'd take fifteen or twenty machine gun slugs in
your chest before you could lay a claw on him. Powerful and monstrous as
you are, there's nothing to do but back up.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" you say.

The thug smiles. There's a wild look in his eyes as he advances a step
toward you, brandishing his gun, his finger on the trigger. "Do what I say!"
he screams. "We're taking you to Buck Meyerstraub."

"Who's he?" you ask.

Your question brings forth a brainless cackle of laughter. "You don't know
the name?"

You shake your head.

"Meyerstraub is the biggest crime boss in the Caribbean—maybe the

world."

Turn to page 92.

Three weeks later you are in the office of J. Taylor Tazewell, owner of the
Apalachicola Circus. Watkins transported you the thirty-three hundred
miles from British Columbia in his Winnebago van. Where he got it is a
question you may never get the answer to, but you can't help wondering if
he's resumed the type of activity that got the law after him in the first place.

Tazewell is a short, chubby-faced man in his fifties, with thinning red hair
and an oversized mustache. His office is cluttered with boxes and papers,
and the walls are plastered with photos of circus acts. He doesn't even get
up from his spindle-backed chair or take his feet off his rolltop desk when
Watkins brings you in.

"Good morning, Mr. Tazewell," you say.

Tazewell waves his corncob pipe in a little circle by way of

acknowledgment. He looks you up and down, then smiles with satisfaction.
"You are some monster," he says. "With you around, we're gonna become
the most famous circus in the world."

"That's just the way I figured it," Watkins says.

"What's more," says Tazewell, "we'll see you get room and board and a
hundred bucks a month bonus."

Watkins stiffens. "That ain't the way it's going to be, Tazewell."

The circus owner wheels in his chair. "What do you mean?"

Turn to page 51.

Mr. Vandergraft makes all the necessary arrangements for you to enter
Federal Hospital and be seen confidentially by Dr. Firenze. Louis, the
chauffeur, drives you in the family's Rolls Royce, Of course, you take up
nearly all the backseat and extra floor space, so Amanda, who has come
along to keep you company, sits in the front with Louis. The public is very
curious to know where you've been since you disappeared after your escape
from Dr. Nair's house.

The genetic unit of Federal Hospital has been alerted to your impending
arrival, and when the Rolls pulls up in front of the special entrance at the
west wing of the hospital, security guards come out to escort you. They
have cleared a couple of hallways and are able to lead you to your bedroom
without your being observed by anyone other than staff doctors and nurses,
who have been sworn to secrecy.

You've just settled down in the oversized chair that's been installed in your
room when Dr. Firenze, chief of the unit, enters. He hardly gives you time
to get out of your chair as he steps briskly forward, his hand outstretched.
Turn to page 69.
The next morning brings you your chance to confront Dr. Nair: You're
sitting across from him in Mr. Vandergraft's office. Two plainclothes
security men stand on either side of the evil scientist.

You want to shred him with your claws, but he looks so different—thin-
faced with brown eyes instead of blue ones—that you can't believe he's the
same man. But as you watch him fidgeting in his chair, you observe the
same evil expression on his face, the same gestures of his hands, and then,
as he speaks, that same high-pitched, nasal voice.

"What do you want of me?" he squeals. "Let me go. I have my rights."

Zena waits until Dr. Nair has calmed down.

"You're going to turn the monster back into a person," she says.

Dr. Nair's eyes dart nervously around the room. "I'm not sure I can."

Mr. Vandergraft, who has been standing quietly in the back of the room,
steps forth. "You'll do it, Nair, and you'll succeed; otherwise, there is no
future for you—none whatsoever."

Dr. Nair winces. He looks furtively around. Two of Vandergraft's detectives

are blocking the door. "All right," he says softly "I'll try."

Turn to page 52.

"Thank you, Amanda. I'd be grateful if I could stay at your house for a few
days," you say.

Your new friend leads you up the hill and across a beautiful, closely
cropped lawn. The German shepherds fall into step behind you as you walk
past marble statues, a triple-tier fountain, two clay tennis courts, a row of
twelve-foot-high lilacs, and then onto a secluded grass court in which is set
a large swimming pool lined with Italian marble. Tables and chairs are set
out under huge umbrellas, but no one is in sight. You continue on past the
cabanas and sauna and more fountains and finally reach the great brick
mansion that Amanda calls home.

"You sure have a nice place here," you say.

Amanda smiles at you, then points to the driveway, surfaced with pink-
tinted pebbles. You gaze admiringly at the sleek red Saab 9000 Turbo; the
silver Rolls Royce, and the shiny, new bright green Porsche.

"Daddy's home," Amanda cries happily. "Come along! He'll be very excited
to meet you!"

You reach down and touch your paw to Amanda's arm. "Wait a minute.
Don't you think you ought to warn him first?"

Amanda looks you up and down, mostly up. "Yes, I see what you mean.
Wait in that cabana till I have time to warn my parents and calm them
down."

Turn to page 109.

"I think you've made the right decision," Mr. Vandergraft says. "You're too
fine a person to spend the rest of your life as a monster. I'm going to hire
one of the best detectives in the country to make sure we find Dr. Nair."

"I can't thank you enough, sir," you reply.

During the following days you wait anxiously for news from Zena Hearne,
the detective hired by Mr. Vandergraft. One morning, while you're playing
soccer with the German shepherds, you hear Amanda calling you from the
patio off the east wing.

"The detective says she's found Dr. Nair!" Amanda calls as you come
bounding across the lawn. "Come into the drawing room. Zena Hearne
wants to talk to you."

You follow Amanda through the guest quarters, then through the library and
the great hall, then through the living room and into the drawing room.
There, standing by the grand piano, is a rosy-cheeked woman with frizzy
reddish-brown hair.

"Pleased to meet you," she says,holding out her hand, which you touch with
your big, scruffy paw. Zena Hearne doesn't look like a detective, but she
certainly seems agreeable.

You sit on the floor so you'll be the same height Zena Hearne is while she's
standing. "Amanda tells me you think you've found Dr. Nair," you say.

Turn to page 38.

You wake up in a bed, your head aching. There's a lot of equipment around.
Everything is made of shiny stainless steel. You wonder if you were hit by a
car on your way home from school, taken to the hospital, and just had a
nightmare about being kidnapped.

A thin, slightly stooped man with a tightly clipped beard enters your room.
Something tells you he is not a doctor.

"Don't worry about that little bump on your head," he says in a high-pitched
nasal tone. "You are a perfect subject for our experiment. My name is Dr.
Hendrik Nair."

You sit up. feeling even more frightened than when the gunmen pulled you
into the car. "What kind of experiment? What are you talking about?"

The man steps closer. He fixes his eyes on yours. "Have you ever heard of
genetic engineering—genetic transplants?"

You're too stunned to answer.

"Well, you're going to learn a lot more, since I'm the greatest expert in the
field. You'll be my most important patient."

"Oh, no—you're not going to touch me!" You're out of the bed, looking for
a way out— maybe through the window.

Turn to page 4.
"Welcome," he says, as you let him place his small white hand in the grip of
your enormous paw. He is a short, lean man with fuzzy reddish-brown hair.

After polite inquiries about the Vandergrafts and how you've gotten along
living with them for the past month, Dr. Firenze pulls up a straight-back
metal hospital chair, flips it around, and sits on it backward, resting his arms
on the back.

"Now, let's get down to business," he says. "As Mr. Vandergraft told you,
there's a chance I may be able to help change your body back into its
original self through genetic-transplant treatment. I think I know what Dr.
Nair's method was, and we should be able to reverse it. But I have to warn
you that my work is still in the experimental stage, and I can't guarantee
success."

"That's all right, doctor," you say. "I'm willing to try anything."

"You must understand," he says, "that if I fail, you will not only never
return to the normal youngster you were before, you may become even
more horrible—more monstrous—than you are now. So I must ask you: Are
you sure you want to go through with this experiment?"

If you say yes to Dr. Firenze's experiment, turn to page 2.

If you say no to Dr Firenze's experiment, turn to page 73.

A tall, lanky man with a few days' growth of beard stands at the entrance.
He's wearing a red hunting cap, a plaid flannel shirt, blue jeans, and heavy
boots. A rifle is slung across his back. He does a double take on seeing you,
but he doesn't scream or run. He just looks a little to one side of you and
doesn't move at all.

You're so surprised by him and by the way he just stands there, that you're
kind of frozen, yourself. Then, while you're trying to think of what to say,
you notice he's very, very slowly moving a hand toward the strap that's
holding his rifle. He's treating you just the way he would a bear!

Once he unsnaps the strap he'll be able to raise that rifle and fire it in about
half a second.
If you lunge to keep him from raising his rifle, turn to page 77.

If you talk to him, turn to page 41.

Not that it matters much. By the time the movie is released, the cops have
caught up with Job Watkins—and with you too. You're brought in and soon
find yourself in the interrogation room at the Los Angeles office of the FBI.

"What does the FBI have to do with this?" you demand of the sandy-haired
agent seated across the desk. He's wearing sunglasses, even though you're
indoors. It makes you wonder if he's going to shine a bright light in your
eyes.

"We're involved because you're a national menace. You frighten people."

"But I haven't committed any crime!"

The agent takes off his shades, blows on them, and then rubs them with a
tissue he pulls out of his pocket. He puts the glasses back on before looking
at you again.

"You don't have to have committed a crime," he says.

"This is going nowhere," you say. "I'll stand on my constitutional rights!"

Turn to page 113.

You sit thinking for a moment. It's so awful being a monster, you're willing
to try almost anything. But the thought of becoming an even more horrible
monster—maybe one that can only crawl, or can't talk, or smells awful, or
goodness knows what—is too much to contemplate. "I don't think I want to
take the risk, doctor," you say.

Dr. Firenze frowns but nods his head. "I understand completely," he says.
"No one can tell you what is the right decision in such a case."

"What's next for me then, doctor?" you ask, aware that the Vandergrafts
can't be expected to keep you as a guest any longer.

"I've discussed this with everyone, and we all think the best thing for a
while would be for you to live on a farm or a lumber camp, where you
could get a lot of exercise working, earn your keep, and be in a small,
friendly community that's isolated, so you won't be bothered by outsiders."

You feel depressed on hearing this, but you seem to have no other choice. A
few days later, a van comes to pick you up and take you to a lumber camp
in British Columbia, Canada. Tears run down your monstrous cheeks as you
bid farewell to Amanda and her family and set out on your journey.

Turn to page 37.

The circus season opens in three weeks, so you have just a short while to
get to know the people and animals and learn your job. The ringmaster
helps you train for an act where you scare the clowns, then become their
friend, and then become a clown yourself. You also work with the animal
trainers. When you walk past the elephants, one by one they rear up and
trumpet wildly.

The tigers are another act. When you go into a cage with a tiger, he starts
stalking you. But you roar so fiercely, he backs off. Later you learn to ride
on his back. The tiger is agreeable, but you're so heavy that he soon tires
and sits down. For the fun of it, you get under him and give him a ride!

Tazewell is nearby, jumping up and down. "This is the greatest act of all
time!" he shouts.
Watkins was right: Circus business soars once word is out that you're the
main attraction. They have to turn people away at the gate. Your act is
televised and shown on national TV. By the end of the season you're
famous, not as a dreaded, feared monster, but as a circus superstar!

Of course your ten percent of gross receipts adds up to a lot of money:

You're rich! Watkins finally admits to you that he had embezzled money
from a bank. At last he's able to pay it back, and the charges against him are
dropped. You and he agree—it's nice to be rich, but what's really nice is to
be free.
The End
Dr. Nair has been turned back into an ordinary person. After spending
several years in jail, he begins a new career—as a shoe salesman.

And you are back home again. Your parents are very glad to see you. Of
course they'd heard about the monster, but they never really believed such a
thing could have happened to you.

Your mom says she missed you so much, she'd have wanted you to come
home even if you were still a monster. Your dad says it may have been just
as well that you waited until you could be changed back. "It would have
broken our hearts to see you that way," he says.

But everyone agrees that it's all worked out in the end, and that's what
counts. Tomorrow you'll be starting school again. You've got some catching
up to do, but one thing's certain: You've learned all you need to know about
monsters.
The End
You lunge toward the hunter before he can raise his rifle and shoot. With
your tremendous strength you would only need to get one paw on him to
bring him down. but he steps nimbly back through the entrance. As you
follow, he backs away, edging close to the front of the cabin, and raises his
rifle.

Crack!

"ARRRAGH!" You roar—not a human sound. but the anguished cry of a

dying monster.
The End
Even though your family is prepared for the shock, everyone is startled to
see your grotesque figure blocking the doorway. Your mom reels back as if
she's going to faint. Your dad props her up, but he looks awfully pale
himself. The dog crawls under a table and hides. Your brother just stares
open-mouthed at you, while your sister reaches for the camera.

"Hi, everybody," you say cheerfully.

Your mom finally gets hold of herself. She starts hesitantly toward you, her
arms outstretched as if she's determined to hug you—though she won't be
able to get her arms around you.

You're afraid to move closer, for fear of scaring her to death, but finally you
step forward very slowly.

"It's hard to believe," your dad says, "but I do believe it's you."

"You must be hungry," your mom says, motioning you toward the kitchen.
"Come and sit down."
You hate to eat all the food in the house, but you're pretty hungry, so you
polish off a loaf of bread, a box of cereal, two quarts of milk, a large jar of
peanut butter, a pack of hot dogs, a quart of orange juice, and four bananas.

Turn to page 3.
You're so depressed, you just sit on the bed and stare at the wall, thinking
about the terrible mess you have fallen into.

Through the days that follow, your body changes in ways almost too
horrible to describe. Your captors bring you all the food you need, which is
a lot, because you're always hungry. The whole time you're too scared to
even look at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

Pain. That's the worst part of it. You can hear your bones crackling as they
grow. Your muscles are growing too. They ache as they stretch to keep up
with your bones—especially your arm bones, which are lengthening and
thickening the most. Your skin is expanding, trying to cover your widening
body surface. Sometimes it's stretched so thin, you're afraid it will split, but
it always seems to cover. If you were just growing up fast, into an adult,
that wouldn't be so bad. It's the way you're growing that frightens you—
you're becoming much more massive than any human—much broader and
thicker—and stronger! That's why they've boarded up your door with three-
inch oak planking. It's also why they stopped feeding you through the door
after the first few days and started throwing food in through a hole in the
ceiling.

Turn to page 86.

"Oh," you say, thinking for a moment, "I would react nicely—very kindly—
and I would treat the monster as a regular person."

"Well then, you see?" Dr. Rasmussen looks at you triumphantly.

"No, I don't," you reply. "The reason I'd act that way is that I know what it's
like to be a monster. The other kids don't."

"Ah," Dr. Rasmussen says, undaunted. "I'm glad to see you are so
intelligent."

"Hmmm."

"Well then," the doctor says softly, "since you are intelligent, all you have to
do is ignore those who would taunt you." He leans forward and looks at you
intently. "Slowly the others will come to understand. They will become
wiser because of the example you set."

"I hope so," you murmur.

You're impressed by what the doctor has said but not completely convinced.

"Do I really have to go to school?" you ask.

The doctor shrugs. "No, but you can't just sit at home watching cartoons all
day. I know of a cattle ranch where you might want to work," he says. He
glances at his watch. "Oh my, our time is up. Think it over and let me know
what you decide."

You both get up. He reaches out and grabs your paw. "I think you'd like this
ranch," he says. "Whatever your decision is, I wish you good luck."

You thank Dr. Rasmussen and walk down the street, ignoring the stares of
startled passersby. You have a decision to make.

If you decide to stay home and go back to school, turn to page 18.

If you decide to leave home and go work on a cattle ranch, turn to page 88.
"Watkins is my name," he says. "Jeb Watkins. Now, I've read something
about you in the papers. Even before I met you 1 felt some sympathy for
you. You see, I've been chased by the law myself for the last two years—
over fifteen states and three countries."

"What are you in trouble for?" you ask.

Watkins looks at you for a moment without answering. You guess he didn't
like your question.

"I don't care what you got in trouble for—you seem like a decent man to
me," you say.

Watkins stirs the soup on the stove while he looks over his shoulder at you.
"Thanks, I appreciate that."

He invites you to sit opposite him. The two of you sit down and polish off
the soup. It's not enough to fill you, of course.

Turn to page 44.

When you look at the thick, coarse hair on your body you feel like crying.
But that's nothing compared to the feeling of two long, canine teeth— sharp
as spikes—growing out of your jaw, and the massive brows, overlapping
your face like a ledge on a cliff.

Your captors don't talk to you—they don't even show their faces—though
you've pleaded with them by shouting when they throw down food, or
yelling out the window. You've even roared like a caged lion.

You're as strong as a lion, too. You can throw your bed around the room
with one hand and shake the walls so hard that plaster falls from the ceiling.
But the walls hold, and so does the door.

Turn to page 9.
You lumber out from behind the bushes, your fangs exposed full length as
you try to smile. You may look like a fierce monster, but you feel more like
a frightened rabbit. Sure, you could bash a police car flat with one slap of
your paw, or grab a cop by the arm and hurl him across the courtyard, and
finish off another with one chomp of your super-powerful jaws. But you
couldn't stand up against a hail of bullets.

That's what the cop behind the car blocking the courtyard must think,
because he sends a bullet whistling past one of your sharply pointed ears.

You freeze. Any other reaction would mean instant death, because at least
half a dozen cops are now crouching, with their weapons leveled at you.

"Hold your fire!" the chief orders. The red-faced man with a fancy bronze
insignia on his lapels steps forward. "Just what are you, some kind of
alien?"

Turn to page 26.

Once you decide you definitely don't want to go to school, arrangements are
quickly made to send you away to the ranch Dr. Rasmussen recommended.
The plan is for you to earn your keep as a hired hand. The head of the ranch
likes the idea of having someone big and strong enough to wrestle steers,
herd cattle, and carry heavy loads.

The ranch is in Wyoming, and you're to fly there in a small chartered plane.
The passenger seats have been ripped out to make room for you. Someone
has taped up a sign that reads: Monster Section. Very funny, you think.

There aren't any flight attendants on board, but food and water have been
set out for the six-hour trip. You'd expected the pilots to be a little friendly
and keep the door to the cockpit open, but it's locked.

About two hours into the flight you notice something very strange. All you
can see below is the ocean—or maybe it's the Gulf of Mexico. It sure isn't
Lake Michigan—the water is just too blue, and you can't see land
anywhere. It's obvious you're not on the way to any ranch. You're being
abducted! But where to? And why?

You bang on the door to the cockpit. "What's going on?" you demand.
"Where are you taking me?"

Suddenly the door flies open, banging you in your snout. A submachine gun
is pointed in your face.

"Back up! And keep your paws up!"

Turn to page 60.

"Why get Dr. Firenze?" Amanda inquires. "Why not get Dr. Nair?"

"Who would that be, dear?" her mother asks.

"He's the one that caused all this," Amanda says. "If we could catch him, we
could make him undo his evil work."

Mr. Vandergraft bites his lower lip and shakes his head ever so slightly.
"Maybe . . . maybe . . . ."

"But how could we trust Dr. Nair to do what we want?" Mrs. Vandergraft
asks.

Amanda looks fiercely around the table. "We'll make him!"

Mr. Vandergraft looks at you. "Well?"

If you agree to enter Federal Hospital, turn to page 62.

If you ask the Vandergrafts to hire detectives to find and capture Dr. Nair,
turn to page 67.
How could anyone do this to you! you wonder. What kind of a man is Dr.
Nair? He is the monster—not you. If only you could get hold of that evil
scientist.

"ARRRAGH!" you roar. If you've become a monster you may as well make
the best of it! You smash your shoulder against the heavy door of your
bedroom. The wall shudders and shakes. Plaster falls from the ceiling. The
oak planks groan and crack. You smash a great fist against the wall and
punch right through it!

"ARRRAGH!" You raise a leg and smash the door and its supporting timbers
into the hall, splitting two-by-four beams as if they were twigs.

"It's loose!" a voice screams.

Dr. Nair runs out of a room at the end of the hall. "I warned you we couldn't
hold it," he yells at the other man, who has already run out of sight.

"ARRRAGH!" You charge after him!

Dr. Nair bolts and races down the stairs. You're not far behind. By now you
must be stronger than any man on earth, but you're no faster a runner than
most. By the time you've reached the courtyard, Dr. Nair and two other men
are jumping into the blue Mercedes. The engine starts. You grab the bumper
and lift the back of the car off the ground. The engine roars. The car has
front-wheel drive and it goes into motion. You try to get a better grip but the
car races ahead, leaving you clutching the bumper in your claws. You run
outside the gate in time to see the Mercedes disappear around the corner.

Turn to page 10.

An hour and a half later the plane lands at an airstrip on a small Caribbean
island. It's immediately surrounded by armed men. For a moment you think
they may be policemen, but you soon learn that they are in the private army
of Buck Meyerstraub, who practically runs this tiny third-world country.

You're packed into a limo and driven up a winding, roughly paved road to
Meyerstraub's mountaintop villa. The guards bring you before the infamous
crime boss, who's sitting in a reclining leather chair in a room crammed
with expensive furniture and paintings. A huge window overlooks the
jungle-clad slopes and valley below. In the distance is the whitecapped sea.

Meyerstraub, overweight and pink-faced, gapes at you as you walk into the
room. Two men with machine guns follow a few steps behind.

The master criminal laughs and rubs his hands.

"Very good, boys," he says to the guards. "This one will do just fine."

"What do you want of me?" you demand.

Meyerstraub laughs. "Can't you guess, Monster, or are you too vain to
guess?" He leans forward; he's so close, you're tempted to lunge at him. "I
want to use you to scare people. In my business it's not enough to threaten
people and even kill them occasionally. To run a crime empire you have to
keep people afraid of you—and you're going to help me do that."

You shake your monstrous head as you realize you've been delivered into
the hands of a madman. But there's nothing you can do—there are
automatic weapons pointing at you from both sides. You'll just have to play
along with this man until you have a chance to subdue him or to escape.

Turn to page 15.

The lumber camp you're sent to is called Twin Lakes Camp. It's in British
Columbia, Canada, far from civilization. You're flown out there in a special
plane under tight security.

The lumberjacks in the camp were warned that you were coming, of course,
and a few of them speak to you in a friendly fashion, though they mostly
keep at a considerable distance. But one of the biggest and roughest—a man
named Mike Fenwick—jeers at you. "Are you as stupid as you're ugly?" he
yells.

This angers you so, that you pick up a big ax. You know enough not to
threaten him with it, much less attack him. With a little flick of the wrist
you heave it through the air at a big fir tree about a hundred feet away. The
blade cuts into the bark. The handle quivers a moment, but the ax is firmly
planted in the tree.

"Not a bad arm," someone says.

"Better watch your tongue, Fenwick," someone else calls from the mess
hall.

Fenwick looks at you with hatred in his eyes. You can tell he'd like to get
back at you in some way.

Turn to page 37.

He winces but continues with his smooth talk. "You're so good, I'm going to
put you in charge of all my security forces."

You pick Meyerstraub up and hold him with one great shaggy arm so you
can free your other hand. You step toward the two guards. They back away
—their faces read "fear." One of them starts to bolt.

"ARRRAGH! Stay!" He freezes in his tracks. With your free paw you pick
up their weapons.

Meyerstraub, suspended sideways in the air, whines, "I'll make you rich. I'll
pay you ten thousand dollars a month, ten thousand dollars a week! And a
bonus, a big bonus."

The last few words hardly come out as you squeeze the crime boss harder.
You may be a monster, but you're not going to work for a monstrous
criminal, that's for sure—not to mention that you couldn't trust this slinky
character to pay you a nickel of what he's promising. Your only goal is to
get off this island and back to the States, and if possible, to deliver
Meyerstraub to the authorities.

Unfortunately that's not going to be so easy. You've got Meyerstraub as a

hostage, but you'll have to get past a small army of security men and
persuade someone to fly you to the mainland. Maybe you should play along
with him. Then sooner or later you'll find a better way to escape.

If you tell Meyerstraub you'll accept his offer, turn to page 32.

If you turn down Meyerstraub's offer, turn to page 104.

"Chh, chh, cheeeeek," you say.

"I'm afraid my technique didn't work," says Dr. Firenze. "I'm deeply sorry."

"At least you don't look like a monster anymore," says Amanda. "You're
real cute."

"I'm glad to see you looking so healthy and, in your own way, normal," says
Mrs. Vandergraft.

"Yes, you do look fine—and so agile," her husband adds with a smile.

"Chh, chh, cheeeeek," you respond.

But when Dr. Firenze looks at you, his face is grave. "Now I'm afraid you
have only two choices left," he says. "The jungle—or the zoo."
The End
"Okay. It's a deal," you tell Meyerstraub.

"Good, good." His voice oozes charm. "I think you'll find this very
rewarding—the best work a monster could get."

You say nothing, desperately hoping that you'll find a way to get off this
rotten island.

"All right then," Meyerstraub says, "here's the plan. The man who's giving
me trouble is named Vargas. He's headquartered in Key West and runs his
business there with a small fleet of boats all disguised as shrimp trawlers.
He's been infiltrating my organization—threatening to assault my island.
He's gummed up my business. Once I control his organization, I'll be able to
run things right."

He pauses to light a cigarette. "As I told you," he says after taking a long
drag, "Vargas has refused to step into line. That's why I'm arranging for you
to be his nightmare."

"Okay," you say. "Let's get on with the plan."

Meyerstraub rubs the arm of his chair. "We're going to fly you to Key West
tomorrow. And we'll see that you get access to Vargas's bedroom. Your job
is easy. You don't hurt him or even touch him. You just roar, and then when
he wakes up, you scare him plenty. If he jumps in his bed and hits the
ceiling, that will be just about right—understood?"

"Yeah."

"Good. If he reaches for a gun, just grab it and twist off the barrel. Can you
do that?"

"I think so."

"Good. Then give him one more roar. Make him quake. Then throw him on
the floor. Throw the bed covers on him. Then toss my calling card on the
bed and beat it out. That's all you have to do."
"I gotcha," you say.

Turn to page 21.

As you near the top of the rise, you stop to rest behind a big oak tree. You're
out of breath. Strong as you are, you're not in the best physical shape,
because you've been locked up in that little room and not getting enough
exercise.

You're beginning to relax a little when you hear furious barking. Two big
German shepherds are running straight at you!

"ARRRAGH!" you roar.

They keep coming. One of them leaps high, at your throat. You catch him in
midair and cast him aside.

The second dog hesitates.

You advance, arms over your head, your claws waving over the attacker.
"ARRRAGH!"

The dog lies down, cringing. The other comes toward you, whimpering,
with his tail between his legs.

"Good dogs." You pat each of them. They wag their tails.

Turn to page 16.

"Look," the mayor says soothingly, "you're not going to be locked up in jail,
or anything like that. It's to your advantage to cooperate. We will take care
of you and provide for you."

You're feeling angry, and you almost let out a roar that would knock these
men out of their socks, but that wouldn't be in your best interest just now, so
you sit still.

"One thing you could do," the mayor continues, "is live in a lumber camp.
You're strong. You could do a lot there and still have time to relax. There's
TV, video, and plenty of good food. But you'd have to promise to stay on
the farm."

You don't feel like jumping up and down at this idea; you remain silent and
just keep listening as the mayor continues.

"There's another hope for you," he says, "but it's rather risky. There's an
experimental genetic unit at Federal Hospital. The director there, Dr.
Firenze, is almost as much of a genius as Dr. Nair, but Firenze isn't a mad
scientist. He's a dedicated doctor, and he thinks there's a chance he can
restore you to the healthy, normal person you were. But 1 have to warn you,
the experiment might fail, and if it does, the consequences could be fatal."

You're getting numb thinking about this, and you're startled when the
mayor's voice booms out. "Well?"

If you decide to go live in a lumber camp, turn to page 94.

If you agree to submit to the genetic experiment, turn to page 24.

During the months ahead you learn the ways of the grizzly bears. You live
as they do: hunting small game, stealing honey from bees, fishing for
salmon in the fast-flowing streams. Sometimes you eat the leftovers of
campers, though you try to lead your group as far from human habitation as
you can. You love the freedom of wandering fearlessly wherever you like,
of being so strong and tough that neither rain nor cold, insects or other
animals, bother you. You grow stronger and more agile as the months go by.
The grizzlies, though they are generally solitary animals, seem to have
grown as fond of you as you have of them.

But the days get shorter, the nights longer and colder. First come frosty
mornings. Then snow. The bears begin digging dens in rocky niches or
under the stumps of huge fallen trees. For a while you're puzzled, but then
you understand. They are preparing to hibernate. You're as big and tough as
the strongest bear, but you can't hibernate. Your monster body doesn't work
that way. In that respect, you're more like a human than like a bear.

Sadly, you realize you will have to leave the bears and once again try to
make the best of it in human company. Maybe that's just as well, you think.

Turn to page 46.

You look down at Meyerstraub, the crime king, He's squirming under your
arm. "Do you think I'd trust you?"

"You've got to," he wails. "You'll never get out of here alive."

"And neither will you," you say, "if you try and stop me."

"Look, okay What is it you want?"

"Have a plane ready on the airstrip to take the two of us to the States. And
tell your security men that if I see one weapon before we take off—or if one
shot is fired—you'll die."

"Okay. Sure, sure, Monster." Meyerstraub tries to sound cool. He's past the
panic stage, and you can tell that his criminal mind is at work again,
scheming to turn the tables in his favor.

Turn to page 110.

Meyerstraub lies in the aisle. He's pale and sweating but unhurt.
Miraculously, nothing vital was hit. The plane accelerates and finally takes
off. Another burst of gunfire goes wild. You see bullets falling short as the
jet speeds away.

Phew! You pull a blanket down from the overhead rack and press it against
your wound to stop the flow of blood.

Suddenly Meyerstraub is pointing a pistol at you—he must have hidden it

on board. "You're going to jump out of this plane, Monster!"

"Look—Behind you!" you yell.

It's the oldest trick in the book, but it works. Meyerstraub starts to look
behind him. He catches on and snaps his eyes back on you, but your paw
comes down on his hand, and knocks the gun away.

The crime king cringes on the floor.

You stick your monstrous head inside the cockpit. Shaking, the pilot looks
back at you.

You growl slightly and the pilot returns to the controls. A moment later
you're on the radio alerting the FBI. "I'm bringing in Meyerstraub," you tell
them.

Now you can sit back and relax. You'll soon be dealing with the police
again, but this time they should be pretty friendly. After all, you're bringing
in the biggest crime boss of them all.

As they tell you later when you land, "You're the greatest, Monster."
The End
Once you reach the street it's bedlam—people scream and point at you.
Others run. Horns honk. Down the block, someone yells at a policeman.

You eye a truck that's stopped at a red light. You run to it, pull open the
back door, and jump in. The van is half filled with boxes of electronic
equipment. The addresses on the labels show that the boxes are bound for
Florida. You move forward so people won't see you as the truck climbs the
ramp to the Interstate—the driver never even notices you.

You're headed for Florida. Of course there will be just as many problems
there as there are here. You know you'll never get any peace living with
people. You'll just have to take to the wilderness. In Florida, that means the
vast, watery region around Lake Okeechobee. Your future now looks pretty
certain: You're going to be a swamp monster!
The End
You dodge out of the way, grab a huge log, and hold it over your head.
Fenwick shuts down his chain saw and runs. He scrambles up a ridge and
then turns to face you. You haven't moved a step.

"I missed you this time, but I'll get you," he yells over his shoulder. "Sooner
or later, I'll get you!"

He disappears over the ridge, leaving you standing there stunned. For the
first time you have lost all hope that you will ever lead a normal life.

The sun has already dropped behind the mountains to the west. You're
certainly ready to quit— you've done about ten times more work than
anyone else today. With a heavy heart you start back to camp.

You're in no hurry to get back, so you follow the footpath that reaches camp
by a roundabout way. Just as you reach a bend in the trail, you're startled by
a noise. A huge male grizzly bear rears up in your path. He lets out a roar
that splits your ears.

Maybe you interrupted his meal. Maybe he's just ornery. But he clearly
doesn't want you to pass. A low growl builds in his throat—he seems ready
to attack. A wave of fear sweeps over you. Then you remember: You are a
monster!

Turn to page 28.

You have to hunch over to fit in the cabana. There you wait anxiously,
wondering whether Amanda's parents will be as friendly as she has been to
you. You just hope no one will open the cabana door. You couldn't not be
frightening, even if you tried.

The minutes pass. You begin to wonder whether you should stay in the
cabana—for all you know, Amanda's father has called the police by now.
Then you hear sounds outside.

"Come on out." It's Amanda's cheery voice.

You throw open the door and blink your eyes in the sunshine. Standing on
the terrace are Amanda's parents, the butler, the cook. and the maid. You
hang your head, sure that they will all scream, or worse, call the police.
Mrs. Vandergraft throws her hand up and lets forth a little gasp. The maid
and the cook grab each other for support. The butler backs up so fast, you're
afraid he'll fall in the pool.

Turn to page 114.

While you keep his body firmly in your grip, he uses his public-address
system to order the plane readied and all security men to stand clear and
keep their weapons out of sight.

The pilot phones in that he'll have the plane ready in ten minutes.
Meyerstraub's chauffeur will drive you to the airstrip in the same limo that
brought you to his villa.

Now comes the dangerous part. Though you have Meyerstraub firmly under
your arm, there's the danger that a sharpshooter could pick you off with a
carefully aimed bullet. Another thing is, you can't be sure that one of
Meyerstraub's henchmen wouldn't be happy to see you break the crime
king's neck. There's always a lot of jealousy and infighting in a criminal
organization like this. You'll just have to take the chance, you realize.

Swiftly you stride out the door to the waiting limo. Meyerstraub is still
tucked under your arm, wrapped halfway around your waist like a sash.

Turn to page 42.

Very quietly you step over to the phone that's farthest from Vargas's bed.
Keeping one eye on the sleeping form. you dial the police.

When they answer, you whisper, "I'm being held hostage in the bedroom of
Guillermo Vargas. Thirty Sea Pine Drive, by two armed men working for
Buck Meyerstraub."

"Hang on," the police dispatcher says, "we'll have the place surrounded."

While the dispatcher is giving instructions, you watch Vargas stirring

restlessly in his bed.

"Is Vargas there?" the dispatcher asks.

"Yes, but he's asleep." you whisper.

"Be careful."

"Right."

"Who are you, by the way?"

"It's a long story, but I'm very big and ugly, so tell your men not to shoot
when they come in the bedroom."

"As long as you come out with your hands up, no one will shoot."

"They're paws." you say. Suddenly there's a scream. Vargas has woken up
and seen you!

"Gotta go." you say into the phone.

"ARRRAGH!" You leap on the bed, pinning Vargas's arm just before his
hand closes on the .280 Magnum stashed under a pillow.

"Don't hurt me," he whimpers.

"Don't worry," you say, "You're going to jail. not to the hospital."
Turn to page 34.
The phone rings. The agent takes the call. "It's for you," he says a moment
later, "but I'll warn you, I'm going to listen in on the other line."

The phone call is from Watkins, who's out on bail. "You've just gotten a big
new movie deal," he says, "from France. They're making a new film of the
famous classic. Beauty and the Beast. Guess which part they want you for?"

"How much will they pay?" you demand.

"Twenty million francs—that's one hundred and fifty thousand dollars!"

"Sounds good to me," you say, glancing at the FBI agent.

"Sounds good to me too," the FBI man says. "We'll pay your way over there
just to get you and Watkins out of the country for a while."
"ARRRAGH," you roar appreciatively. You haven't felt so happy in a long
time. With a little luck you're going to enjoy being a monster!
The End
Amanda's father, however, steps forward and holds out his hand. "Charles
Vandergraft's the name."

Amazed at how nice he is, you gently shake his hand with your paw.

"You certainly are a monster all right," he says, "but Amanda has convinced
me you're a good monster, so I'm willing to have you stay here a while as
our guest."

Amanda introduces you to the others. "Hargraves, the butler, will show you
to your room," she says. "After you've rested awhile, perhaps you'll join us
for lunch."

The room Amanda leads you to is a luxurious suite with velvet curtains,
oriental rugs, beautiful paintings on the wall, a TV, VCR, stereo, and a
bookcase filled with lots of good books. You can hardly believe your good
luck.

Turn to page 58.

You stand erect at the foot of Vargas's bed. your shaggy arms held high,
your long, pointed claws extended.

"ARRRAGH!"

The sleeping form rises. The blurry eyes open. Vargas stares at you in terror.
He gropes under a pillow for his gun. You bring one great clawed paw
down on his arm. Then you roll him on the floor and hurl the bed covers on
top of him. While Vargas is still struggling to untangle himself, you toss
Meyerstraub's calling card on the bed. Then you back out the door. You
want to disappear fast so Vargas won't know whether you were real or just a
nightmare.

It's all very easy. Nothing to it. The only trouble is, you back into Vargas's
personal bodyguard, one Meyerstraub didn't know about when he arranged
to bribe the security men at the front gate. The bodyguard doesn't wait to
ask questions. He lets you have it with his .280 Magnum.
The End
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