“Say the Meanest Thing You Can Think Of!”

In his panic, Spencer tried to run faster. “Daisy!” he screamed. But his feet were moving too quickly for the rest of him to keep up. His toe caught a length of plastic webbing and he went down hard, stars dancing in his peripheral vision. His leg was tangled and stuck. In his haste, he’d ruined any chance of saving his friend.

The Thingamajunk dropped forward onto its long arms and roared into the girl’s face. It looked similar to the other Thingamajunks they’d encountered: hulking scraps of garbage fused together by the Glop that gave them life. This one had a dented lunch box for a head, with a moldy textbook hanging on like a dislocated jaw.

“Daisy!” Spencer shouted. “You have to trash-talk it!”

She glanced sideways at him. “What?”

“Trash-talk!” Spencer said. “Pretend like you’re tough!”

Daisy’s hands balled into tight fists. She leaned forward slightly and shouted, “Hey there, big guy!”

“No!” Spencer coached. “You have to insult it!”

She took a deep breath. “You’re huge and scary!”

“That’s not an insult, Daisy,” Spencer yelled. “That’s what it’s going for!” He drew his razorblade and started cutting himself free of the plastic webbing. “Say the meanest thing you can think of!”

Daisy squinted her eyes and screamed at the trash, “You’re made of garbage!”

The Thingamajunk reached out with its long arm and knocked her back against the spongy mattress.

“I’m sorry!” Daisy’s voice was small and quivering. “But you are.”

The Thingamajunk made a series of grunts and grabbed Daisy by the arm. With only words to defend herself, Daisy gathered her courage and made one final attempt.

“Listen here, big buddy. You are big and scary and made of trash. But under all that yucky garbage, I bet there’s a really nice guy. Maybe you’re upset because you don’t have any friends. Maybe you’re mad because other people make fun of you. Maybe you feel like there’s not a single good thing about you. I’ve been there, buddy. I’ve felt like garbage. Dez Rylie made me feel that way every day of fifth grade. But I didn’t go around trying to eat people!”

The Thingamajunk paused, its lunch-box head cocked curiously to one side. It snorted once as if in disbelief over Daisy’s pathetic resistance. Then the covers of the old textbook peeled back to reveal a crooked line of broken pencils that, more or less, formed teeth. But squirming between the Thingamajunk’s jagged teeth were at least a dozen pale worms, munching away on the decomposing paper.

“Bookworms.” Daisy shuddered from head to toe. The Thingamajunk continued gnashing its teeth savagely, but Daisy was on a roll now.

“There!” she said. “That’s better. At least you’re smiling now.”

Spencer didn’t point out that the Thingamajunk was actually gnashing. Smiling and gnashing were two very different things. Spencer stood, at last free of the webbing. But Daisy didn’t seem to need help anymore.

The Thingamajunk dropped the girl to the ground. Its mouth closed and then opened again, stubby pencil teeth jutting awkwardly in an attempted smile.

Daisy cringed at its rotting mouth. But seeing the Thingamajunk’s nasty attempt at a smile seemed to spark an idea for Daisy. She dug into her pocket and quickly found the item she was looking for.

It was a pink retainer. The one from Bernard’s strange dumpster collection.

“Here.” Daisy held it out. “It might be a little small, ’cause you’ve got a huge mouth. But you seriously need some dental work.”

The Thingamajunk leaned forward, examining the small item in Daisy’s outstretched palm. It cocked its head to the other side and grunted in thought.

“Take it,” Daisy insisted. “It will help your teeth get straighter. Then maybe there won’t be enough room for the worms.”

Spencer dropped to his knees next to Bernard. With a shot of orange healing spray, the garbologist began to revive.

“What’s she doing?” Bernard muttered, sitting up.

“She’s bargaining for her life,” Spencer said. “With a retainer.” It was absolutely ludicrous!

“One of my dumpster retainers?” Bernard asked. “Those are special edition! Carefully collected in more than forty states!”

The Thingamajunk’s hand was hovering just above Daisy’s. It seemed frozen, like it was expecting some kind of trick.

“Go ahead,” the girl coaxed. “Take it.”

The garbage hand closed around the pink retainer. And just like that, the Thingamajunk exploded.

It happened so unexpectedly that Daisy was knocked backward against the wall. Trash fell to the floor around her like shrapnel.

Daisy’s eyes were big as she staggered back to her feet. “What happened?”

“He blew up,” Spencer pointed out. It didn’t make much sense.

“Because I trash-talked him?” Daisy asked.

“You couldn’t even insult a pile of garbage!” said Spencer. “I don’t know what that was, but it definitely wasn’t trash-talking.”

“Trash-whispering?” Daisy tried.

“I suggest we finish this debate in a safer location.” Bernard pointed upward as the huge vacuum hose dropped into the slot canyon, bored by Penny’s and V’s distractions.

Bernard led the way, with Spencer and Daisy close behind. The vacuum attachment was bobbing up and down, gobbling trash between gasps of fresh air. The trio paused, trying to time their escape perfectly.

The garbologist went first, diving and rolling through the trash as the vacuum hose lifted. Spencer was right behind him, feeling the suction lift his hair as he barely made it past.

Daisy came last, but her timing was off. She rolled forward just as the vacuum attachment came down. The girl screamed, her braid flying upward as her feet left the ground. Spencer doubled back, calling her name, but he realized that she would be swallowed long before he could reach her.

Abruptly, a pile of garbage directly beneath the vacuum hose sprang to life. It leapt straight into the air, bits of scrap and trash forming together into a Thingamajunk.

The garbage figure caught the neck of the vacuum hose in both apelike arms. It roared, a rustling sound that outmatched the whirling attachment. The vacuum hose bucked under the attack, but the Thingamajunk continued to squeeze, pinching off the hose and stopping the suction.

Daisy dropped to the hard trail as the vacuum hose went slack. The Thingamajunk swung sideways, its garbage feet kicking off the wall and pulling the hose so that it doubled over itself. Then, with a final roar, the Thingamajunk dropped down, tying the vacuum hose into a tight knot.

The vacuum reared back, pulling its knotted hose over the top of the mattress and out of sight. The Thingamajunk dropped onto all fours and lifted Daisy back to her feet.

She stared at the garbage figure, too stunned to say a word. Then the Thingamajunk smiled at her. And there, wedged into the moldy textbook that formed its mouth, was a pink retainer.