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    Young Scrooge: A Very Scary Christmas Story
    Young Scrooge: A Very Scary Christmas Story
    Young Scrooge: A Very Scary Christmas Story
    Ebook142 pages2 hours

    Young Scrooge: A Very Scary Christmas Story

    By R. L. Stine

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    A funny, scary middle-grade send up of A Christmas Carol, about a boy who hates Christmas, from bestselling Goosebumps author R. L. Stine.

    Rick Scroogeman hates Christmas. He can't stand the carols and the pageants. He can't stand the lights and the mistletoe. But what he hates the most is having to watch the old movie A Christmas Carol every year at school. Since his name is Scroogeman, all of his classmates start calling him Scrooge. And he hates being called Scrooge.

    But everything starts to change when three ghosts visit him. At first, he thinks it's a dream. But then he realizes that it might be a nightmare. A nightmare that could become real.

    Young Scrooge: A Very Scary Christmas Story is a mashup of holiday and horror, a perfect novel for middle grade readers who like their Christmas stories with a side of spooky.

    "Stine brings his characteristic humor and light scares to a reworking of Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, set at Oliver Twist Middle School. . . . It’s eerie holiday fun." —Publishers Weekly

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMacmillan Publishers
    Release dateSep 13, 2016
    ISBN9781250112316
    Young Scrooge: A Very Scary Christmas Story
    Author

    R. L. Stine

    R.L. Stine has more than 350 million English language books in print, plus international editions in 32 languages, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. Besides Goosebumps, R.L. Stine has written other series, including Fear Street, Rotten School, Mostly Ghostly, The Nightmare Room, and Dangerous Girls. R.L. Stine lives in New York with his wife, Jane, and his Cavalier King Charles spaniel, Minnie. Visit him online at rlstine.com.

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    Reviews for Young Scrooge

    4/5

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    • 4/5
      Thanks to NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of this book.

      R.L. Stine is back with another one of his creepy tales!

      Twelve-year-old Rick Scroogeman hates Christmas, and he lets everyone around him know it. He thinks his jokes are funny, but the kids at school find him completely annoying and just plain cruel. With the holidays approaching, Rick's antics get worse and worse until one day, he gets a taste of his own medicine.....the R.L. Stine way. This was a great twist on the Dickens classic for middle grade readers. I loved that the characters' last names referenced other works of Dickens.

    • 5/5
      I did not expect this adaptation of "A Christmas Carol" to be as funny or innovative as it was. Stine manages to reinvent a classic story for modern times by adopting a first-person narration as twelve-year-old Rick Scroogeman, a misunderstood bully who just doesn't get why the rest of the world doesn't see the humour in his jokes. While it is initially hard to relate to his character (can he be that dense?), Rick eventually does learn his lesson through his visits with three spirits. These visits are unexpected enough that readers familiar with the original story don't necessarily know what's coming, and Stine lets just enough of his spooky side creep in as well. I was truly moved by the ending, and the Dickensian character names throughout add another layer to the story that might just interest younger readers in exploring the works of the original author.
    • 5/5
      A modern updating of A Christmas Carol set in a middle school. Rick Scroogeman is mean and always hurting others (physically and emotionally). The three ghosts come and visit him and show him the past, the present, and the future. He is shocked by others' behavior/actions/thoughts because he sees it all as good clean fun. Like all good Christmas Carols, good wins out but what a path is follows. I enjoyed the story. I appreciate how bullying was incorporated into the story without it being preachy but teaching the lesson. The characters were good and believable. This is a keeper.

    Book preview

    Young Scrooge - R. L. Stine

    1

    My name is Rick Scroogeman. I’m twelve, and you might say I mainly like to have fun. I like to tease kids and goof with them and give them a hard time and mess with them a little. You know. Just to be funny.

    Some kids at my school, Oliver Twist Middle School, call me Sick Rick. Behind my back, of course.

    I don’t get that.

    I think maybe they’re jealous because they don’t have as good a time in school as I do. Or maybe because I’m bigger than them and more grown-up. I had a growth spurt last summer, and now I’m the tallest one in my grade.

    Pauly Stimp, who plays forward on the Twisters basketball team, only comes up to my chin. Seriously. I call him Stimp the Shrimp.

    I’m tall and I’m big. Yeah, I know it looks like I have a big belly hanging over my cargo jeans. But it’s all muscle. Go ahead and punch me in the gut. Punch me as hard as you can. You’ll see. But be careful—because I punch back. Ha!

    Before I go any further, I want to warn you about something. I want to warn you that this is a ghost story.

    Maybe you don’t believe in ghosts. Or maybe you think ghosts can be friendly and nice, or maybe sad, or maybe they need love, or something icky like that.

    That’s not what I learned. I learned that ghosts can be terrifying. And cold. And cruel. And vicious. And did I mention terrifying?

    So, that’s my warning.

    Maybe you thought you were going to get a sweet story about Christmas joy and sparkling snow and good cheer. If that’s what you want, go read Frosty the Snowman.

    Seriously. No one stands around singing Christmas carols all day in the Rick Scroogeman story.

    I guess I should also say that I’m afraid of ghosts. But that’s the only thing I’m afraid of. Don’t believe me? Test me. You’ll see.

    I’ve been afraid of ghosts since I was a little kid. I saw a dark shadow moving on the kitchen wall. And there was no one in the kitchen who could have made that shadow.

    Whoa. Creepy, right?

    But enough about scary stuff. Being scared is not how I roll.

    Here’s a good way to get to know me. You can read an essay I wrote for Miss Dorrit’s class. She made us all write essays on What Christmas Means to Me.

    Gag me, please.

    Yes, it’s almost that sick time of year, time for my least favorite holiday. Why do I hate Christmas so much? Well … don’t just sit there asking questions. Read my essay …

    WHY I HATE HATE HATE CHRISTMAS

    By Rick Scroogeman

    I hate hate hate Christmas for two reasons.

    One: They make us watch this terrible old movie in school every Christmas. It’s called A Christmas Carol, and it seriously sucks.

    It’s about a really old guy who is stingy and grouchy and mean to everybody. And three ghosts come to take him away and show him how mean and rotten he is, and they tell him why he should change and be nice. And why he should like Christmas.

    The movie is bad because it’s in black and white. Also, the ghosts aren’t scary at all. The special effects totally suck. But there’s something even worse than that.

    The mean old guy is named Ebenezer Scrooge.

    Like … why?

    As everyone knows, my family name is Scroogeman. So every year after we watch this dumb film, the kids in my class think it’s a riot to start calling me Scrooge.

    Ha-ha. Do I look like I’m laughing? I don’t think so.

    But that’s not the main reason I hate Christmas. I hate it because I was born on December 25. That’s right. Christmas Day is also my birthday.

    And does anyone ever remember to celebrate my birthday? No way.

    They’re all too busy putting up lights and decorating the tree and singing carols and getting ready for the Big Day.

    Do you know the dumbest thing about Christmas? Decorating a tree. Because you spend hours hanging stuff on the tree. Hours. And then you just have to take it all off. Talk about a waste of time.

    Besides, Christmas trees make me sneeze. I’m allergic to them, and I can’t breathe when we have a tree in the living room. But does anyone care if I breathe or not? Of course not. It’s Christmas.

    Because of Christmas, I’ve never had a birthday party like every other kid I know. I’ve never been taken to Disney World or someplace cool. I never get to choose what’s for dinner on my birthday. We always have to have a Christmas goose. Yuck all. Who eats goose?

    And do I get birthday presents like every other kid?

    Of course not. I only get Christmas presents. And no one even talks about how old I’m getting and what an awesome guy I am.

    See? I get cheated. Cheated out of my birthday every year.

    And that’s why I say, Bah, Humbug, like the old guy in that movie. And that’s why I HATE HATE HATE Christmas.

    Can you blame me?

    2

    Let me tell you. I don’t mean to brag, but Oliver Twist Middle School would be dull without me. Ask anyone. And if they say something bad about me, just remember what I said—they’re totally jealous.

    I hate to say it, but there are a lot of losers in this school. And losers give me a pain.

    There’s that loser Davey Pittman, leaning over the water fountain. Ever since they showed that Christmas movie yesterday, Davey has been calling me Scrooge. What a fun guy.

    Watch me have a little fun with him. When Davey bends his head to get a drink, I cup my hands under the water. I fill up my hands—and then I send a big splash of water onto the front of his pants.

    Davey makes a gulping sound and steps back, staring down at the big wet spot on his pants.

    Oops, I say, and then I laugh. Ha-ha.

    When Davey walks into class, everyone will see the dark spot on the front of his pants and think he had an accident.

    Funny, right?

    But now Davey is stepping away from the water fountain, red-faced, scowling angrily at me. The kid has no sense of humor. That’s his problem.

    No hard feelings. I slap him hard on the back. He goes sprawling into the yellow tile wall. Oops, I say again. What else can I say? Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.

    The hall is really crowded. Everyone is heading to class. Some kids saw me push Davey Pittman into the wall. They probably think that was mean. They don’t realize I was just having fun with him because he called me Scrooge.

    I see another friend of mine across the hall, closing up his locker. Jeremy London is a short, pudgy guy with curly blond hair, freckles, and a goofball smile. He looks frightened when he sees me coming. But we’re actually good friends.

    What do you want, Scrooge? Jeremy asks as soon as I step up to him.

    Uh-oh. He shouldn’t have said that. I don’t think he meant to. But it slipped out of his mouth anyway.

    Would you like a dancing lesson? I say.

    He tries to back away from me, but his locker is in the way. A dancing lesson?

    Yeah, I say. And I tromp down on the top of his sneaker as hard as I can with the heel of my shoe.

    Owwwww! He lets out a cry.

    That must hurt.

    He starts to hop up and down on one foot.

    I clap my hands in rhythm as he hops on one foot. Dance! Dance! Go, Jeremy! Go, Jeremy! I shout.

    It’s so funny to watch him hop like that. I love giving dance lessons. It’s one of my favorite jokes.

    I wave good-bye to Jeremy and make my way down the hall to Miss Dorrit’s class. I have a big smile on my face. I’m thinking about Davey’s wet jeans and how embarrassed he looked. And Jeremy hopping up and down like a one-legged kangaroo.

    Hey—does anyone have as much fun as I do?

    3

    In Miss Dorrit’s class, I sit on the end in the back row near the window. Lucy Copperfield sits next to me. Lucy is really nice. I’ve known her since first grade.

    Lucy is all about her hair. That’s all she cares about. No joke. She has perfect straight black hair parted in the middle and flowing like waterfalls down both sides of her face. She is constantly smoothing down her bangs and running her hands through her hair and making sure it falls perfectly in

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