King of the Mutants Read Online Free

a little Aba-daba ,” I said. “A delicious dessert for the most beautiful woman around these parts.”
    “Why didn’t you say so in the first place? Git your freaky little tail in here.”
    I made my way into her tent, purposely not going in too far. And there she was in all her peachy glory, all six hundred plus pounds of her. Her jowls, made even more pronounced from sweat, jiggled like a running bloodhound’s—but she wasn’t even moving.
    Peaches sneered at me.
    “Whatcha got for me, lizard? Better be something first-rate or I’ll send Burt after ya. I need my beauty sleep, you know.”
    I snorted back a giggle and dangled the box of tasty treats in front of her.
    “Bring ’em closer, you dim witted reptile,” she demanded from her flatbed.
    “No way. You come here and get them yourself.” I taunted her, waving a doughnut back and forth. “You know you want them. They’re your favorite.”
    She tried to sit up, and her dimpled arms waved all around, flapping like giant sails on the biggest ship ever imagined. Her face twisted and contorted and her extra large chest heaved up and down. Every time she gasped for air, spittle flew out of her mouth. And then Peaches was off her bed, stumbling forward, and she almost had the box of tasty treats in her King Kong sized hands when I took one small step back. AND BOOM! The whale of the woman was down for the count. An explosion of doughnuts flew everywhere—most of which landed on my head.
    “Little finch, fly away,” I yelled so that Freddie could hear.
    Relief flooded my stomach as I watched his feet slither away into darkness.
    Mission accomplished. I turned to leave. But before I did, I looked down, realizing I had just exchanged one problem for a gargantuan-sized one. Hatred emanated from Peaches’ eyes. If I didn’t get out of there—and quick—I’d be one dead boy walking.
    I turned on my heel.
    “Gator, that’s right. You better get that nasty tail of yours out of here. Just you wait till I tell Burt what you’ve gone and done to me,” she screeched. “He’s going to beat the alligator hide right off you. Then we’ll feed you to the lions.”
    “You’d make a much heartier meal,” I said under my breath. “They could eat Peaches stew for years.”
    Peaches must have caught that comment because she screamed for Grumbling. She was louder than twelve heavy metal rock bands battling it out—at the same time. I knew I was in a hot mess, the-difficult-to-get-out-of kind. See, the last guy who had the misfortune of making Peaches that mad ended up as a human piñata.
    To this day, I don’t know if that guy survived.
    Fearing for my life, I left her tent as fast as my webbed feet allowed. It was time for me to run away from the circus. Which, when I thought on it, was a bizarre twist of fate.
    I kicked it into high gear, back to the menagerie, eighty-five percent certain it was possible for a kid to have a heart attack. My mind raced with all the painful possibilities of how Burt could kill me and dispose of my body. Chopped up by our sword swallower’s extra-long knives! Locked up with Bobo in his cage after he’d been starved for a week! The list went on and on. Although fear had me shaking in my Adidas, I wasn’t ready for a date with the grim reaper. I needed to focus on my breathing, keep a cool head in the suffocating heat, and get out of Dodge fast.
    Because we moved around so much, I didn’t have much by way of possessions—just my prized acoustic guitar, some clothes, a black trench coat, a brown fedora hat, a smashed up iPod, and a book on sideshow freaks. As I scrambled around to throw my gear into an old military-style duffle bag, my old wooden display poster caught my eye. Propped against the old animal wagon I slept in, the faded, red and yellow words taunted me like the meanest of bullies.
    Live before your very eyes.
    See the Gator Boy sing and dance.
    A horrible abomination cursed with mutations that will shock even the