Slappy- Into Trash Compactor

But I grabbed him around the waist. I pulled him off Brandon. And without thinking … without really planning it, I flung the dummy with all my strength.
Slappy bounced off the back of the garbage truck. Then he slid down … down … and he was sucked into the truck.
Slappy kicked and screamed as he was pulled inside.
Brandon and I froze as a long, shrill howl rang in our ears. A howl of pain and horror.
And then the truck began to grind. The roar drowned out the howl.
I shut my eyes and pictured the dummy — the wood, the cloth suit jacket and pants, the little shoes — all ground up … ground to wood shavings and bits of cloth. Mixed with the disgusting garbage.
We didn’t move. We were both breathing hard. Our breath puffed up in front of us.
The grinding roar ended. Silence now.
...

“Ooh, what’s that smell?” someone shouted. A sharp, putrid odor floated over the basement. Kids held their noses.
“Slappy!” I gasped.
He stopped halfway down the stairs. His gray suit was shredded. His shoes were gone. His head and shoulders were covered in scraps of garbage.
“Slappy New Year!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.

- Slappy New Year!, chapters 27 and 28