Chapter 2

  Two hours later, Grunty stomped into the bathroom. He’d searched everywhere and still didn’t have enough hair to make his were-troll costume.

  The Grunt climbed into the filthy bathtub, stuck his fingers down the drain, and wiggled them around. There was something down there! Carefully, Grunty pulled his fingers back out.

  “Shoot!” he roared, as a fat, hairy spider wriggled between his fingers.

  He heaved himself up and was about to climb out of the tub when something burst through the door. It looked like a big, slimy pea wearing a hat.

  “Rahhhhh!” The Grouch yelled. “The boogie monster’s coming to get you!”

  Grunty sighed.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Grouchy. “Where’s your costume?”

  “I can’t find enough hair!” Grunty said. “I can’t go trick-or-treating tonight without a costume.”

  Grouchy looked sad. “But we always go together!” he said. “There has to be somewhere we can get some hair.”

  Suddenly he had an idea. “Wait!” he cried. “How about the hairdresser’s?”

  “Great idea!” Grunty said. “There are always piles on the floor! What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

  The trolls raced downstairs. As they ran past the kitchen, Grunty paused. “Hang on,” he said, grabbing a dirty pan out of the sink. “We can collect the hair in this!”

  With that, the trolls darted out of the house. “Hurry up or we’ll miss the bus!” Grunty cried.

  “I can’t!” puffed The Grouch. “It’s this snot! I’m sticking to the pavement!”

  The bus was about to pull away from the curb as the trolls leaped aboard.

  “Hold on,” said the bus driver, scowling at Grouchy. “No slimy things are allowed on my seats.”

  The Grouch beamed. “I’m a boogie mon—”

  “He’ll sit on my lap!” Grunty cut in. He scooped up Grouchy and dove for a seat.

  With a sigh, the bus driver pulled away. Grouchy smiled. Sitting up on Grunty’s lap meant he could see for once! He and Grunty spent the whole journey secretly flicking snot at the other passengers.

  Fifteen minutes later, the bus came to a stop right outside Claude’s, the fanciest hairdressing salon in town.

  “I like being a boogie monster!” Grouchy said as they stepped off the bus. He flicked some snot at a woman walking past. “It’s fun!”

  Grunty peered through the salon window. It looked very fancy. “Yuck,” he groaned. “It’s horrible.”

  “Disgusting!” Grouchy agreed.

  A woman was sipping tea as a hairdresser cut her hair. He jumped in surprise when he saw two snotty noses pressed against the glass.

  SNIP! went his shiny scissors before he could stop them. A huge chunk of the woman’s hair tumbled to the floor. Grunty’s eyes lit up. He’d take that piece!

  “Come on!” he cried, hurrying to the door. As he pushed it open, he noticed a sign on the glass.

  “They can forget about that!” growled The Grunt as he stomped into the salon. “Nobody’s touching my hair!”

  Chapter 3

  The hairdresser left the woman drinking her tea and hurried across the salon to the trolls. He smiled at his reflection in a mirror as he passed.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he said, pushing a long, silky piece of hair off his forehead. “I am Claude, hairdresser to the stars! How can I hel—” Suddenly, Claude stopped and stared at the trolls. One of them was covered in slime.

  He quickly snatched up a newspaper and set it on the floor near The Grouch. “Would you mind standing on this?” he asked.

  Grouchy squelched forward and stood on it.

  “There!” Claude said, sounding relieved. “That’s better! My goodness, you two do need my magic, don’t you?”

  “No!” snapped The Grunt. “We don’t need our hair done, if that’s what you mean!”

  “We just need some hair!” Grouchy added. He dropped to his knees and started scooping up hair from the floor. It stuck to his hands, which were still covered in snot.

  The entire salon watched in horror. If anyone needed a makeover, it was these two!

  “Hold on a minute!” Claude said. “You can’t just take that hair. No, no, no! I need models, and you two are perfect. There’s so much I could do to you! Then, when I’ve worked my magic, you can have as much hair as you like!”

  Grouchy shot off the floor and hid behind The Grunt. “Quick, let’s get out of here,” he whispered. “I don’t want to be a—”

  “Not so fast,” hissed Grunty, pulling The Grouch aside. “If we leave now, I won’t have a costume! I thought you wanted me to go trick or treating tonight!”

  “I do,” Grouchy said. “But I’m not being a model! They’ll wash my boogie man costume right down the drain!”

  Grunty sighed. Grouchy was right. And that meant one thing—he’d have to be Claude’s model!

  “Fine,” he whispered, leaning closer to The Grouch. “Listen up. I’ve got a plan.…”

  When Grunty had finished whispering his plan, Grouchy looked confused. “So you’ll get all prettied up,” he said, “and while Claude’s working his magic, I’ll swipe hair off the floor?”

  “No!” hissed Grunty. “I don’t get prettied up! That’s the whole point. I’ll keep Claude talking about what he’s planning to do, and you creep around collecting hair. Then we’ll sneak out of here before he gets started. Got it?”

  “Uh … got it!” said Grouchy. “I think.”

  Grunty turned back to Claude. “All right,” he growled. “I’ll be your model!”

  “Perfect!” cried Claude, clapping his hands. “Let me just finish up with my client first.”

  “Fine,” said Grunty, “but I’ve got tons of questions to ask before you touch my hair.”

  “Of course!” Claude said with a smile. He led The Grunt toward the sparkly mirrors, helped him into a long black cape, and settled him in a chair.

  Meanwhile, Grouchy sat himself down in the waiting area. It wasn’t time to swipe the hair yet. Grunty had told him to wait until Claude was busy chatting.

  He picked up a magazine to look at while he waited. As he did, something fell to the floor. He snatched it up, and his eyes grew wide. It was the latest edition of his favorite comic!

  “Wow!” he gasped, making himself comfy.

  Chapter 4

  In no time at all, Claude had finished with his first client and turned his attention to The Grunt.

  “Your turn!” Claude said cheerfully.

  Grunty gulped. He could see The Grouch in the mirror, and he didn’t seem to be paying much attention. What if he didn’t remember the plan?

  “Tell me what you’re going to do first,” growled Grunty. “Everything …”

  Claude smiled and started running his fingers through Grunty’s knotty hair. “This could take a while,” he sighed, shaking his head.

  The Grunt squirmed as Claude started to rattle off a list of what he had planned—washing, cutting, dyeing, drying, curling, fluffing-up. It sounded like torture!

  Claude went on and on. The salon was hot and stuffy. Buzzzzzz! went the hairdryers. Ssssshhhh! went the water in the sinks. On and on and on …

  Soon, Grunty’s eyes began to feel heavy. Then, very slowly … they closed.

  Meanwhile, Grouchy was in the middle of an awesome Splat Bat comic. The Vampire Splat Bats had teamed up with the Boogie Monster! Captain Sparkle had no chance now!

  The minutes flew by as Grouchy read on and on. Just one more story … then another one. Suddenly, The Grouch heard a familiar sound.

  Zzzzz … zzzzz …

  Grouchy froze. Was that Grunty snoring? No, it couldn’t be! How could he be asleep? He’d only sat down a minute ago. Hadn’t he?

  Grouchy looked up and checked the clock on the wall. Five o’clock! That meant he’d been reading for more than an hour!

  The Grouch quickly tossed away the comic and threw himself on to the floor. He needed hair, right now! Then he’d have to rescue Grunty before Claude started working his magic!

  He scrambled around, scooping up hair. There was tons of it on the floor. Tons and tons of … purple hair.

  Trembling, Grouchy climbed to his feet and peered up at Grunty where he sat snoring in the salon chair.

  “Uh-oh!” Grouchy whispered. It seemed that while he’d been busy reading his comic, Claude had already worked his magic.

  Grunty’s normally purple hair was now black and fluffy. A thick white stripe ran straight down the middle, making The Grouch look like a skunk!

  Grouchy gulped. Grunty was going to be furious with him. He’d ruined the whole plan.

  “Grunty! Wake up!” The Grouch yelled, waving his arms at the sleeping troll.

  “Excuse me!” Claude snapped, sounding irritated. “I’m not finished yet!”

  Grouchy ignored him and gave The Grunt a sharp bite on the ankle. Suddenly, Grunty began to stir.

  Quick as a flash, Grouchy swiveled Grunty’s chair around so that he had his back to the mirror. If he saw himself now there’d be big trouble!

  “What the … what’s going on?” Grunty asked, rubbing his eyes.

  “RUN!” yelled Grouchy. He grabbed Grunty’s arm and tugged him toward the door.

  The rest of the customers in the salon gasped as the trollrific pair thundered past them. Some of the customers even jumped out of their chairs and sprinted out of the salon.

  “Did you get the hair?” Grunty asked when they got outside. But Grouchy just kept on running.

  “Uh … a bit,” The Grouch puffed as he ran.

  Then, suddenly …

  “Arrgghhh!” a woman on the street screamed. She pointed at The Grunt in terror.

  The street cleared in seconds. What was going on?

  Puzzled, Grunty looked down at himself. He was still wearing the long black cape Claude had given him, but it couldn’t be that, could it? He reached up and felt his hair. His hair! What had Claude done?

  The Grunt thundered across the street to a store window and peered at his reflection. His jaw dropped—he looked like a giant skunk! It was wicked! And it was super-scary!

  Just then, the moon began to shine. It was time to go trick or treating!

  Chapter 1

  “Move!” cried Grunty, poking at his snail. But Snail didn’t even twitch!

  The trolls were in the garden, racing their pets, but so far they’d barely even moved.

  “That makes Slug the winner!” Grouchy exclaimed with a grin.

  Grunty peered down at Slug. “How come? He hasn’t moved either!”

  “Yes, he has!” Grouchy insisted, pointing out an almost-invisible slithery trail. “See! Right there! So hand over my boogie winnings!”

  Grunty shook his head and clutched the boogie jar. “These pets are useless!” he roared. “They don’t do anything!”

  The Grunt picked up a stick and threw it across the yard. “Fetch, Snail!” he commanded.

  Snail didn’t budge. Grunty picked him up and peered into his shell.

  “Now where did you go?” The Grunt bellowed. He shook his head and sighed. “Grouchy, I think it’s time we got a new pet.”

  Grouchy let out a horrified gasp and covered Slug’s ears. (He wasn’t sure if Slug had ears, so he just covered where ears would be if he had any.)

  “Don’t say that!” he whispered. “You’ll upset him!”

  But even Grouchy had to admit that Slug was a little boring. He didn’t have fleas. He didn’t chase the mailman. He didn’t chew holes in the curtains. And he hardly ever burped out loud!

  For the next half an hour, Grunty and Grouchy sat side by side in the mud, arguing about whether they should get a new pet or not. Eventually, they decided that they would.

  “Okay,” growled The Grunt. “Now that it’s settled, what pet should we get?”

  “Something with fleas!” cried Grouchy. “And something that has tons of hair and loves mud and garbage!”

  “Hmmm,” said Grunty thoughtfully. “Like what?”

  “I know!” cried Grouchy. “Let’s get a gorilla!” He puffed out his cheeks and beat his chest as he made monkey noises.

  “A gorilla would eat us out of house and home!” Grunty said. “We need something smaller. How about a bat? It would fly all over the house and make a trollrific mess!”

  “Bats sleep all day!” Grouchy said. “That’s no good.” He scratched his head. Choosing a pet was harder than he’d thought.

  “What about a giraffe!” cried Grouchy.

  “Or a toad!” cried Grunty.

  “Orangutan!”

  “Warthog!”

  “Hippopotamus!”

  On and on the trolls argued. They couldn’t come to an agreement. Finally, Grunty had a great idea.

  “Why don’t we go to the pet shop?” he said. “Maybe we’ll find something there we both like.”

  “Good idea!” cried Grouchy excitedly.

  Leaving Slug and Snail to entertain themselves, the trolls raced to the bus stop. On the way, they talked about what pets they might find in the pet shop.

  By the time they arrived, they’d decided what they wanted. They couldn’t believe they hadn’t thought of it before!

  “Good morning!” called Grouchy, as they hurried into the pet shop.

  The store clerk backed up nervously at the sight of the trolls. He didn’t want them bringing fleas into his shop!

  “We’re looking for a new pet,” The Grunt growled.

  Chapter 2

  “Wh-what?” the pet-shop man stuttered. He looked horrified. “You want a smelly rat? But all my rats are clean! And very smart!”

  “Huh! Well, that’s no good!” The Grunt complained. “What else do you have?”

  “Anything with fangs that burps a lot?” asked Grouchy.

  “How about a rabbit?” the man suggested. “They’re so sweet!” He opened the door of the rabbit pen and the trolls peered inside.

  “Yuck!” Grouchy hollered, jumping back from the cage in horror.

  “They’re fluffy!” Grunty said with a disgusted shudder.

  The man shut the door to the cage, and the trolls turned to look around the shop. All these pets looked way too clean! None of them were even scratching!

  “They all look bored,” Grunty said. “You should let them play together.”

  “NO!” the pet-shop man yelled, as The Grunt opened the rabbit cage. A herd of fluffy bunnies immediately hopped out. The pet-store man tried to catch them, but they were just too fast!

  Meanwhile, Grouchy opened the birdcage. “Tada!” he said as the birds flew out into the shop.

  “Now for those clean rats!” cried Grunty, opening the rats’ cage.

  “Noooo!” wailed the pet-store man. “They’ll … they’ll … get dirty!” But it was too late. The rats were out and scurrying across the floor.

  SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! Parrot poop rained down, landing on the other animals.

  “GET OUT!” the man yelled. “NOW!”

  “You should really get some more interesting pets!” Grouchy yelled as the trolls made their way to the door.

  “With fleas!” added Grunty. He slammed the door shut behind him.

  Out on the sidewalk, Grouchy looked upset. He’d been sure they’d find a nice new pet in there. “What are we going to do now?” he said.

  But, for once, Grunty didn’t have an answer.

  The trolls wandered back through the park, and Grunty jumped in all the muddy puddles along the way. But try as he might, he couldn’t cheer Grouchy up.

  “Look, there’s an ice-cream truck,” said Grunty, hurrying over. “You love ice cream! You wait here. I’ll even ask if they have boogie sprinkles!”

  Grouchy flopped down under a big tree and let out a sigh. He’d been so excited about getting a new pet.

  As he waited, a scruffy dog appeared. He was big and brown and as hairy as a woolly mammoth! He sniffed the tree where Grouchy sat. Then he sniffed The Grouch. He seemed to like Grouchy’s smell, because he didn’t run away. Instead, he flopped down next to Grouchy and scratched.

  “Wow!” cried Grouchy. “You’ve got fleas!”

  The dog started to pant. His breath smelled like stinky pond water!

  “Here you go, Grouchy!” The Grunt said, stomping back with two ice cream cones. The fleabag dog jumped up and snatched one out of right out of Grunty’s hand.

  “Hey!” cried Grunty, snatching it back.

  “Never mind!” The Grouch said with a giggle. “He’s got fleas, stinky breath, he’s naughty, and it looks like he doesn’t have a home. I found our perfect pet!”

  Chapter 3

  Over the next few weeks, the scruffy dog, which Grouchy named Fleabag, proved to be the best pet in the world.

  Fleabag slurped. Fleabag burped. Fleabag barked at the mailman. Fleabag chewed huge holes in the curtains and rolled in the mud every chance he got.

  Another one of Fleabag’s special talents was drooling. In just three weeks, the trolls had managed to collect seven jars of drool. Their pantry had never held so many treats!

  Everyone was happy until one sunny afternoon, when everything changed. The trolls and Fleabag were out in town when Fleabag came nose to nose with the most beautiful dog in the world!

  She had a curly white coat and a tail like a snowball on a stick. Fleabag had never seen anything so lovely.

  As the dog trotted out of the Pampered Pooch Salon, she bumped right into Fleabag, who was munching on some stale bread.

  “Oh, goodness!” her owner exclaimed. “What a disgusting dog!” The woman gripped the poodle’s sparkly leash and squeezed past the trolls. “Don’t look at them, Fifi-Belle, darling!”

 

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