Madman Stan is a scary story about a babysitter who is taking care of two young boys whose parents are out for the evening.
There were two young boys named Billy and Richie. Their parents had gone out for the night and left them in the care of a babysitter. Her name was Agnes and the boys hated her. She was fat and ugly and stank of sweat and cigarettes. Her butt was so big that her pink sweatpants looked like they might burst at any moment.
“Time for bed!” Agnes announced as soon as their parents left.
“But our parents allow us to stay up until eleven,” Billy protested.
“Your parents aren’t here anymore,” Agnes said. “I’m in charge and what I say goes. Now stop arguing and get up to bed.”
“You’re a really rotten babysitter,” Rich moaned.
“And you’re a pair of really rotten children,” Agnes retorted.
The two boys stood their ground and refused to budge.
“OK then, if you won’t go to bed, I’ve got a little surprise for you,” Agnes said with a malicious grin. “Something to cheer you up.”
“What?” Rich asked.
“A bedtime story,” she said. “A scary one. You want to hear it, don’t you? You’re not afraid, are you?”
“Of course not,” Billy blurted out. “Tell us.”
Agnes got up and turned off the lights. When she sat back down, the couch groaned under her weight. The two boys sat cross-legged on the floor, facing her.
“All right,” she said, clearing her throat. “In some towns, people don’t lock their doors at night, but in this town, nobody goes to bed at night without making sure the doors amd windows are locked up tight. There’s a very good reason for that. It’s because of Madman Stan. Nobody knows where he comes from, but they say he lives in the cemetery, sleeping among the tombstones. Madman Stan will settle for men and women. And he likes little girls very much. But more than anything else in the whole wide world, he likes little boys. They’re his favorite. He takes his victims back to the cemetery. Nobody talks out loud about what he does with them, but I’m sure you can imagine. They’re never seen again. People who live near the graveyard say they hear screams at night. Horrible screams. Plenty of people have seen him, late at night, going from house to house, checking every window and trying every door, looking for one that isn’t locked. And when he finds one, in he goes. That’s why everyone locks their doors up tight. Now, like I said before… Time for bed…”
“That’s all?” Rich asked. “That’s not a story.”
“You’re right, it’s not a story,” said Agnes. “It’s a warning. I want you to go straight to sleep and if I hear so much as a peep out of either one of you, I’ll unlock the front door so Madman Stan can get in…”
Ten minutes later, the two boys were lying in bed, wide awake and staring at the ceiling. The room was in complete darkness.
“It wasn’t true, was it?” Rich asked.
“Of course not,” Billy replied. “She was just trying to scare us.”
All of a sudden, the bedroom door flew open. The boys almost jumped out of their skin.
Agnes was standing there in the doorway.
“What did I tell you about talking?” she shouted. “Just for that, I’m going to unlock the front door.”
She slammed the bedroom door shut, leaving the boys in darkness again. They lay in bed, shivering and clutching their pillows. They listened to her heavy footsteps walking back down the stairs.
“It’s all your fault,” Billy whispered. “Why did you have to go and open your big mouth?”
“I’m sorry,” his little brother replied.
“Now she’s gone and unlocked the door,” Billy whispered.
“You said you didn’t believe in Madman Stan,” hissed Rich.
“Then what are you scared of?”
“I’m not. It’s just… Shut up before she comes back.”
The boys lay there in silence, staring at the ceiling. They tried to fall asleep, but they couldn’t relax. Not with the front door open. All they could think of was Madman Stan coming to get them and dragging them off to the graveyard where he would do unspeakable things to them.
Billy got out of bed. His heart was beating fast. He eased open the bedroom door and peered through the crack. The coast was clear.
“Where are you going?” Rich asked.
“I’m going to lock the front door,” Billy replied.
He slipped out into the hallway and crawled down the stairs as quietly as possible. When he got to the bottom, he tip-toed around the corner and checked the front door.
It was locked. Agnes had been lying. She didn’t unlock the front door after all.
Billy got down on all fours and crawled down the hallway. When he came to the living room, he peered around the edge of the doorway.
The television was off. Agnes was lying on the couch. He could see her butt. That big mound of pink lay there like a beached whale.
He inched forward until he could see her face. Her eyes were shut and her mouth was hanging open. She didn’t make a sound. She wasn’t moving at all. He couldn’t tell if she was asleep or dead.
Hours later, the boys were awakened by the sound of banging on their bedroom door. All of a sudden, the door burst open and they let out a terrified scream.
Their father was standing in the doorway. He flipped on the light switch.
“It’s OK!” he shouted. “They’re here!”
Their mother appeared in the doorway, breathing a sigh of relief.
“What’s going on?” their father asked. “When we came home, the front door was wide open! Where’s the babysitter? There’s no sign of Agnes anywhere! What happened? Where did she go?”
“Maybe Madman Stan got her,” Rich whimpered.
Billy looked up at his parents and nodded his head.
“Yeah, sure,” he said as a malicious smile spread across his face. “Madman Stan must have got her…”