Slappy- Under Paint Cans

The heavy cans were stacked about a foot over my head. Brandon and I leaned our shoulders against the wall of cans.
“On the count of three,” I said. We both took deep breaths. “One … two … THREE!”
We lunged forward. Heaved our shoulders against the cans.
And … yes! The whole wall toppled over.
Slappy let out a high, shrill wail as the wall caved in on him. Burying him … crushing him under its weight.
I watched him crumble to the floor. The paint cans thudded on top of him. He disappeared beneath them.
Silence now.
Brandon and I stood together, staring at the pile of paint cans.
Did we really defeat him?
...

I gazed around. No one else in the basement. Everyone else had escaped. Brandon and I were the only ones still here.
I shuddered. We were both drenched in thick paint.
I rolled a can of paint out of my way with one shoe. Then I bent down to examine the cans on the floor.
And a wooden hand shot up from under the cans and grabbed me by the throat.
“Aaaaach!” I uttered a choked scream as the hand tightened its grip.
Slappy sat up. His evil, red-lipped grin appeared to spread over his face.

- Slappy New Year!, chapters 29 and 30