11

“No thanks, you old dickwad!” you cry, and push the old man away. He trips and falls backwards into the Western District’s egg display.

“Now that’s what I call getting egg on your face and shirt!” you laugh, and many of the people in the Dome laugh as well. It’s always funny seeing an old man fall over and maybe seriously injure himself, and today is no exception.

But you can’t stay here all day. Somewhere out there is a ghost who needs your help.

You and your parents wander through the Show, breathing in the rich smells of Pluto Pups and animal poo, until you make it to the Coca-Cola Carnival – home of the scariest, highest and wildest rides at the Show, featuring new thrilling rides, plus all the old favourites.

And there, squatting in the middle of all the rides, is the Ghost Train. It is designed to look like a house –not the kind of house that you live in, with toilets and a carport, but the kind of house that a PHANTOM or SCORPION might live in – a HAUNTED HOUSE, that is! A chill runs down your spine as you gaze up at the crudely spray-painted faces of various movie monsters, including Pennywise the Clown and Freddy Krueger, cunningly covering his face to avoid copyright issues and also to hide the fact that the artist isn’t very good at drawing faces.

You take a deep breath, and approach the ticket booth.

“One brave child’s ticket to the Ghost Train please,” you stammer nervously, handing over a hundred dollar note.

The attendant hands you back your ticket and two dollars’ change.

Swallowing nervously, you take a seat in the front Ghost Train carriage as it rumbles into the dark tunnel ahead…

 Turn to page 12.

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