Speaker 1: The vacuum cleaner that sucked up a ghost. There were
two things Katie didn't like doing on Saturday mornings, one cleaning.
Two cleaning with the world's oldest, loudest, dust blowing vacuum cleaner.
Her mom called it old Suckeroo. Katie called it the
noisy noodle. It groaned, it moaned, It made sounds like
a walrus playing a broken tuba. But it still kind
of worked just about up to the attic with you,
Katie said mom one morning, that dust isn't going to
clean itself. Katie sighed and dragged old Sukereo up the
creaky stairs. She plugged it in with a dramatic sigh.
All right, noodle, she muttered, let's eat some cobwebs. The
vacuum wheezed to life as Katie sucked up dust, bunnies
and old socks. She suddenly heard something behind a stack
of board games. Boo, Katie froze. She peeked around the pile. Nothing,
then oohoo, I'm so bored.
Speaker 2: She turned nothing bored, I said, this time a puff
of green mist floated up from a half open suitcase.
Speaker 1: Two little ghostly eyes blinked at her. A ghost. Katie yelped.
Oh phew, said the ghost, flopping in midair like a
tired balloon. Someone finally noticed me. I've been haunting this
attic since eighteen ninety four and nobody ever visits. I'm Harold.
Wanna play board games? Katie didn't. Harold floated closer. How
about Monopoly or ghostoppily or guess who? Katie panicked, reached
for Old suckeroo, and the ghost got slurped up with
one mighty vacuum blast. There was a moment of silence,
Then the vacuum burped well and blinked. Katie stared at it.
The power switch flicked off by itself, then on, then off.
Then the vacuum rolled forward a few inches by itself.
Oh no, said Katie, What have I done? That afternoon
things got weird. The vacuum followed her. It clattered down
the stairs. It snuck behind her into the kitchen. When
she sat down to eat a banana, it zoomed over
and sucked the whole banana out of her hand. Hey,
Katie shouted. The vacuum made a noise that sounded suspiciously
like yum. That night, Katie woke to find Old suckeroo.
Beside her bed. It was holding an empty Crisp packet
on its nozzle like a tiny crunchy hat. I'm hungry,
it whispered, feed me, Katie, I am not feeding a
vacuum cleaner. In the middle of the night, the vacuum rumbled.
It zoomed into the kitchen and started slurping up cereal boxes,
corn flakes gone, ran flakes gone, a bag of frozen
peas gone. Katie chased it around with a broom. You're
a cleaning appliance, not a snap monster. I'm haunted. It
burned like grave crumbs. Feed me biscuits, or I'll vacuum
up your homework. The next day, at school, things got worse.
Katie thought she left the vacuum at home. She didn't.
During math class, it rolled in through the door. The
teacher gasped. The vacuum blared feed me math snacks. Then
it sucked up an entire tray of number blocks. In science,
it gobbled a beaker of mystery goo and burned out
bubbles that smelled like broccoli and old socks. In pe,
it swallowed three skipping ropes, one trainer, and the class
hamster's exercise ball. Thankfully the hamster was not inside. Katie
ran into the toilets to hide. I've created a snack
hungry monster, she muttered, correct whispered the vacuum from under
the sink. Also, I ate your pencil case. That evening,
Katie had had enough, right, she said, dragging old suckeroo
back into the attic. You're going back where you came from.
But I like being haunted, it said, in a ghostly wheeze.
I have flavor now. Nope, said Katie. She opened the hatch.
The vacuum made a whimpering wheeze. She pulled the cord
from the wall and said, firmly, out with you, Harold
the ghost. The lights flickered, then a little out floated
Harold again, dizzy, covered in crumbs and holding a half
sucked marshmallow. That was wild, he said. I dreamed I
was a hoover with feelings you were, said Katie. I
miss snacks all right, Eddie, Harold sighed. Katie scratched her chin.
Maybe there's another way you're bored, right, You want attention desperately,
and you love snacks badly, Katie smiled. A week later,
the town was buzzing. Kids lined up outside the Haunted Snackshack,
where a friendly ghost named Harold hovered over a counter
serving popcorn that popped itself, fizzy drinks that changed color,
and sandwiches that reassembled when you bit them. Would you
like that toast? Terrified, he'd ask Behind the counter sat
Old Suckaroo retired, cleaned up, and finally at peace, just
sucking up spilled crumbs and occasionally sighing. Ah. Katie ran
the counter and handed out spooky stickers. It was the
hottest spot in town. Harold was happy the vacuum was full,
and Katie she never had to vacuum the attic again.
The end