My Monster Runs Out of Socks

9 pages · 8 min · ages 6+

Rat-a-tat. Somebody was knocking on the leg of Theo's bed. “Trick or sock!” said two little voices. Under the bed, Gorp hugged his bowl of socks. He wanted every little monster in town to get one. And it was his last bowl. On Halloween, monsters go trick-or-treating at bedtime. They don't knock on doors. They knock on bed legs. And they don't want sweets. Monsters want socks. This year, Gorp was giving out the treats. It was his first time. He had started collecting early, to be organised. He had filled three whole bowls. Then he had eaten two of them. “They were very good socks,” said Gorp. “Is that enough?” asked Theo. Gorp looked at the bowl with all three eyes. “Probably,” said Gorp.

The first two little monsters crawled in under the bed. “Trick or sock!” they shouted. One was dressed as a bath, with a shower cap. One was dressed as a hairbrush. Monsters always dress up as the scariest things they can think of. Theo shivered. He didn't like hairbrushes either. Gorp put one sock into each little monster's paws. “One sock each,” said Gorp. “That's the rule.” “Why only one?” asked Theo. “It's always only one,” said Gorp. Theo thought about Mum's basket of odd socks on the landing. Every sock in it had been waiting for years for the other one to turn up. “Oh,” said Theo. He sat on his rocket socks.

Next came a little monster dressed as a vacuum cleaner. “Sluuurp,” it said. Gorp's fur stood on end. Vacuum cleaners eat the fluff under beds. Monsters are saving that for later. Nobody went home. It was the best party they had ever been under. Every time another one squeezed in, the bed's legs grew a little longer, to make room. Up went the bed. Up went Theo. The vacuum cleaner held out its paws. “Trick or sock!” it said. Gorp reached into his bowl. It was empty. Then he looked at his very best sock, the woolly one with the hole in it. The hole was the tastiest part. He had been saving it for a special occasion. Gorp gave it away. “Goodbye, sock,” he whispered. “Be delicious.”

“I've got an idea,” whispered Theo. He hopped down, tiptoed out to the landing, and came back with the basket of odd socks. “Trick or sock! Trick or sock!” shouted the little monsters. Years of odd socks were gone before Theo had even sat down. More monsters squeezed in, and up went the bed again, as high as the windowsill. Up here, something smelled a bit funny. Theo decided not to think about it. Then the scariest costume of all crawled in. It was the smallest monster of all, dressed as a grown-up. It wore a tiny dressing gown and tiny fluffy slippers. It tapped its tiny wristwatch, and it said, in its best grown-up voice, “Bedtime.” Everybody screamed. Even Gorp.

By now, Theo's bed was halfway up the window. Then the door opened, and there was Mum. Theo lay down and smiled at Mum, like a boy in a perfectly normal bed. “Act normal,” whispered Theo, to the bed. Under the bed, in the dark, a whole crowd of little monsters acted normal. It sounded a lot like giggling. “Theo,” said Mum, “why is your bed so high?” Theo thought fast. “Halloween?” said Theo. Mum thought about it. All evening, she had been opening the front door to monsters. Pretend ones. “Fair enough,” said Mum. “Bedtime.” Under the bed, everybody screamed. Very, very quietly.

And still they came. “Trick or sock!” shouted two more little monsters. Up went the bed, just a little bit more. On Theo's chair sat the clean washing, waiting to be put away. It had been waiting since Sunday. Clean washing is very patient. Gorp gave away every sock in it, one at a time. One sock each. That's the rule. Soon every little monster had a sock, except the smallest one, in the tiny dressing gown, stuck behind everybody. There were no socks left. Theo looked down at his rocket socks. They were his favourites. He took one off and dropped it, very carefully, into the smallest monster's paws. The little monster tapped its tiny wristwatch. “Bedtime,” it said, in its kindest voice. Nobody screamed. Except Gorp. But only a tiny one.

Then something knocked on all four bed legs at once. BOOM. Under the bed squeezed a tall black top hat with an orange ribbon. Then a big green grin. It was Mayor Fang, the mayor of all the monsters, and the tallest monster in town. The bed's legs grew, and grew, and grew, until the sticky-up bit of Theo's hair touched the ceiling. Mayor Fang spoke in a voice like a big drum. “Trick. Or. Sock.” He was still grinning. Gorp turned the bowl upside down and shook it. Then he shook it harder. He even shook his own fur. Out fell a little fluff. Mayor Fang said it was very nice fluff.

Gorp's three eyes went wet and wobbly. Theo began to pull off his last rocket sock. Then he stopped. Down below, Gorp was sniffing the air. He pointed one paw at the top of the wardrobe. From up here, Theo could see it. Nobody ever sees the top of the wardrobe. There was a lost ball, a thick blanket of dust, and his football bag. It had been up there since the first week of school. Nobody had opened it since. Nobody had dared. Theo pulled the bag onto the bed. He held his nose and tipped it out over the edge. The smell came out first. Then the socks. All three of Gorp's eyes watered, and not because he was sad. He caught one and held it up high with both paws. “THAT,” said Mayor Fang, “is a sock.” He took just one, of course. One sock each. That's the rule.

In the morning, the bed's legs were short again. Theo came out onto the landing in one rocket sock and one football sock. Mum was there, holding the empty basket. Behind him, on his chair, the clean washing was still waiting. There were no socks in it at all. Not even an odd one. “Theo,” said Mum, “where are all the socks?” “Trick-or-treaters,” said Theo. “Trick-or-treaters don't take socks,” said Mum. “Monster ones do,” said Theo. “Only one each.” Mum looked at the empty basket. She looked at Theo. Then she looked down at her own feet. One blue sock. One green sock. “Well,” said Mum. “That explains a lot.” Under the bed, Gorp had started collecting for next Halloween. He had one football sock. He was trying very hard not to eat it.