Read Online The Curse of the Campfire Weenies by David Lubar - Free Book Online Page B

Then she screamed.

ALEXANDER WATCHES A PLAY
    A lexander would much rather have gone to a movie or just stayed at home and watched television. But his mother had bought a ticket to the new production at the Sommerset Children’s Theater, and she was the sort of mom who would never let anything go to waste. So Alexander knew there was no way out.
    â€œWhat’s it about?” he asked as his mother dropped him off in front of the building.
    She handed him the ticket. “I don’t know. It doesn’t say. You’ll find out. I’m sure it will be wonderful.”
    â€œRight.” Alexander gave his ticket to a man at the door, then headed into the lobby. He looked around. There were no signs or posters. No popcorn, either.
    Alexander stepped inside and found his seat. It was in the front row. A moment later, the man who’d taken his ticket walked out from behind the curtains. “Welcome,” he said. “It’s my pleasure to introduce our final production of the season. So sit back and enjoy yourself while
the Sommerset Children’s Theater presents the world premiere of Alexander Watches a Play. ”
    Alexander sat up in his seat at the sound of his own name. The curtain opened. On the stage, a boy and his mother were sitting on wooden chairs inside a cardboard box painted to look like a car.
    â€œWhat’s it about?” the boy onstage asked.
    He wasn’t a very good actor, Alexander thought. I could do better than that. Not that I’d ever want to be in a stupid play.
    Onstage, the boy’s mother answered. She didn’t seem to be a very good actor, either. They talked for a moment; then the boy walked through a door. The curtain closed.
    What in the world … ? Alexander wondered.
    The curtain opened. The stage had a row of theater seats. The boy onstage was watching another stage. A man walked out in front of the curtains of the new stage. “Welcome. It’s my pleasure to introduce our final production of the season.”
    The man introduced the play. The curtain behind him opened. Alexander watched as the boy onstage watched another boy who was sitting in box painted to look like a car.
    This can’t go on, Alexander thought.
    But it did. He watched a play about a boy named Alexander who watched a play about a boy who watched a play, and on and on. The theater seemed to get endlessly deeper as each new version started. Alexander thought about getting up and leaving, but he was curious to know
how long the play could keep going. After a while, the actors were so far away that Alexander could barely make them out. He had to strain to hear what they were saying.
    Then, far off, he heard an actor cry, “Oh no, the balcony is falling.”
    There was a crash. Another voice cried out, “The poor boy. He’s been crushed.”
    The farthest curtain closed. Once again, Alexander heard: “Oh no, the balcony is falling,” followed by another slightly louder crash.
    Theater by theater, the crash came closer. Soon it was on the stage right in front of Alexander. A man on the stage shouted, “Oh no, the balcony is falling.” Then the Alexander onstage shot up from his seat and turned around. But instead of running, he froze.
    â€œStupid kid,” Alexander muttered. This was just too unrealistic, like one of those hokey wrestling matches where one guy is lying there, acting too stunned to get up, and the other guy takes forever to make his next move.
    â€œRun, you idiot!” Alexander shouted. He watched as the balcony onstage fell right on top of the actor playing Alexander. It seemed to move in slow motion—groaning and creaking for a while and then finally toppling. As the curtain closed, Alexander looked up. The theater’s balcony was right over his head. A strange groan came from above.
    A man at the end of Alexander’s aisle shouted, “Oh no, the balcony is falling.”
    I’m outta here! Alexander