Hot Dog and Bob: Adventure 4 Read online

  Adventure #4

  and the Exceptionally Eggy Attack of the Game Gators

  by L. Bob Rovetch

  illustrated by Dave Whamond

  For the other Mr. G.—Guthrie Savage Friedman the Grea t —L. R.

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter 1: Recess

  Chapter 2: The Game

  Chapter 3: Meet Player One

  Chapter 4: Mr. G.

  Chapter 5: Swamped

  Chapter 6: Eggs

  Chapter 7: Oops!

  Chapter 8: Best Friends

  Chapter 9: So Long, Clementine

  Chapter 9½: Donkey Dandruff

  Chapter 10: See Ya Later, Alligator

  Chapter 11: Singin’ in the Rain

  Chapter 12: Crazy Brave Bob

  Chapter 12½: Singin’ in More Rain

  Chapter 13: Let’s Make a Deal

  Chapter 14: Recess Is Over

  Chapter 15: Yummy Sardine-and-Marshmallow-with-Rice-Noodle Sandwiches

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Recess

  The first time Hot Dog popped out of my lunch box, I was surprised. When he said I’d been picked to be his Earth partner, I was even more surprised. When he said we were going to be saving the world from scary space aliens, I switched from surprised to terrified!

  My name’s Bob. I’m in the fifth grade at Lugenheimer Elementary, and I have the weirdest life! In just the last couple of months I’ve battled psycho hypno hamsters, pointy pencil people, and an extremely unfriendly pizza person.

  It wasn’t my choice. The job totally got chosen for me by the Big Bun. She’s the leader of Dogzalot, a peace-loving planet full of superhero hot dogs who get beamed across the solar system to stop evil aliens and make the universe a safer place.

  “Hey, Marco,” I said to my friend at recess. “You haven’t seen Clementine anywhere, have you?”

  “Dude! I think I lost her!” said Marco.

  “Yeah, right!” I laughed.

  “No, I’m not kidding!” said Marco. “We were shootin’ hoops on the blacktop, and I turned my back for a millisecond, and she completely disappeared!”

  “Okay,” I said calmly, “exactly what do you mean by disappeared?”

  “I mean dis-ap-peared!” said Marco, “as in abracadabra, now you see her, now you don’t!”

  “Oh, she probably just went to get a drink of water,” I told Marco.

  But I knew Clementine would never just walk out in the middle of a basketball game. Clementine’s not the type to walk out on anything. I mean, other than her bad habit of eating unbelievably disgusting sandwiches at lunch, she’s basically the coolest person I know.

  She’s helped Hot Dog and me deal with every alien attack so far. Plus, since Hot Dog sprays forgetting mist at the end of every mission, Clementine’s the only one besides me who has any memory at all of the bizarre alien invasions that keep happening at our school.

  Have you ever had a bad feeling? You know, the kind that ties your stomach up in knots? You know, the kind that almost instantly changes from a little bad feeling into a big bad actual thing?

  If you answered no, then I’m happy for you— really I am! It’s so nice that you’ve lived such a wonderfully easy life. You’re probably the bestlooking, most talented, most popular person in your entire school, and you’ll probably grow up to be a famous actor or the president of the United States—or both.

  But if you answered yes, if you know what it feels like to have a few little nervous butterflies in your belly turn into an army of killer bees, then you can relate to how I felt when Marco vanished right in the middle of our conversation!

  “Marco?” I called out all over the place. “Come on, quit messing around!”

  But there was no Marco!

  “Hey, Bob!” said Ricardo. “Have you seen Danny? He was goalie on our soccer team, and he just totally split!”

  Before long every kid in my class was either missing or looking for someone. Was this some twisted game of hide-and-seek or—? I didn’t want to think about it. One minute we were all running around, calling out for our missing friends. And the next minute I was totally and completely by myself!

  “Hello?” I said. “Anybody out there? Come out, come out, wherever you are! Okay, guys, that was a good one! Joke’s on me! I lose! Game’s over!”

  “Oh, on the contrary,” said a loud, creepy voice. “This game has just begun!”

  Chapter 2

  The Game

  Something reached up from the blacktop, grabbed my shoes and yanked me underground. I was falling through a big dark tube. I was crashing down a never-ending pretzel-shaped slide! If I hadn’t been so sure I was gonna die, it would have been an awesome ride. But since I was pretty positive I was gonna die …

  I shot out of the tube, crashed into a wall and landed spread-eagle on the ground. When my head finally stopped spinning, I got my next big shock. The wall I’d crashed into wasn’t really a wall at all. It was an egg. A really big egg!

  “Greetings, Player Two,” said a voice. “And welcome to the Gator Game!”

  “The what?” I asked, looking around to see who was talking.

  “The Gator Game,” the voice repeated. “If you beat Player One, you will go on to compete in my Intergalactic Gator Game Championships! But if you lose—bwa-ha-ha!”

  “Bwa-ha-ha?” I asked nervously.

  “Bwa-ha-ha,” said the voice, “is Gator talk for ‘this game has only one winner, so if you value your life, you might not want to lose.’”

  I had a bunch of questions: Where am I? Who are you? What have you done with my friends? and If I’m Player Two, then who’s Player One?

  But before I could ask any of them, the underground room went crazy. Buzzers buzzed, bells rang, whistles whistled, lights flashed and earsplitting music blasted all around. If I wasn’t freaked out, it would have been cool.

  “The object of the game,” said the voice, “is to make it to the finish line before Player One—”

  “That’s it?” I thought to myself. “That doesn’t sound so hard.”

  “Without getting caught by my little Game Gator here,” the voice continued, “who should be hatching … right about … NOW!”

  The huge egg started to rumble and crack. BLAMMO! It exploded into a billion pieces, and a big reptilian creature busted out. I saw two exit signs flashing over two doorways. I picked one and ran for it.

  Chapter 3

  Meet Player One

  I was running for my life down a soggy dark tunnel, but I wasn’t running fast enough. Squishy-squooshy, squishy-squooshy—the Game Gator was getting closer and closer, and there was still no sign of Hot Dog anywhere! My mind was racing. Why wasn’t he showing up? Where in the world could he be? What if he decided to give up being a superhero? If I had to play this so-called game on my own, I was such dead meat!

  “HOT DOGGGG!” I yelled as I ran. “HELLLLLP MEEEEEE!”

  But Hot Dog didn’t show. For all I knew, I was never going to see him, or anyone else, ever again!

  “Oh, forget it!” I panted. “What good is a stinkin’ superhero partner if he’s not there when you need him, anyway?”

  Right then I saw a ray of light shining down from a hole up above. Squishy-squooshy—the slimy sounds were getting closer.

  I jumped toward the light, grabbed on to the opening at the top of the tunnel and pulled myself up. I held my breath and waited for the squishy-squooshy sounds to get quieter. When I was sure the Game Gator had lost my scent, I breathed a gigantic sigh of relief.

  Other than a messy pile of junk in the corner, the room I’d ended up in was straight out of a king
’s palace. There was fancy velvet and gold stuff all over the place, and right in the middle of the room was another egg. It was just like the last one, only bigger!

  “Fancy meeting you here!” said Clementine.

  “Clementine?” I said. “How did you—? I mean, when did you—? I mean, this egg! We have to get away from this egg!”

  “No joke, Einstein!” said Clementine. “You should have seen the critter that hatched out of one of those things and chased me. It was fast and ugly!”

  “That’s exactly what happened to me!” I said. “Wait! Don’t tell me … you’re Player One!”

  “And you’re Player Two?” She gasped. “Bob! This is a disaster! Whichever one of us makes it to the finish line first gets out of here alive. But the other one, the loser—”

  I didn’t wait for the end of her sentence.

  “I’m too young to die!” I panicked.

  “What about me?” said Clementine. “I’m three whole months younger than you are!”

  “You are not!” I argued. “I’m three months younger than you are! Look, we don’t have time to fight about this stupid stuff. We have to do something—now!”

  “Wait! I think I’ve got it!” said Clementine. “What if we make up our own rules? If we play as a team, we can both reach the finish line at the very same time!”

  “Perfect!” I agreed. “That way there won’t be any losers!”

  “Exactly,” said Clementine. “Only winners!”

  But before we could make a move, the buzzers, bells, whistles and music went off all over again. The gigantic egg was glowing. The gigantic egg was rumbling…

  Chapter 4

  Mr. G.

  KABLAM! The gigantic egg blew wide open like a red-hot volcano! And out of the fiery flames stepped the freakiest alien we’d met so far! We were amazed to see the biggest alligator in the universe breaking out of that egg, but when he opened his mouth to talk, we were speechless!

  “I’m Mister G., and I’m here to say

  The Gator Game is fun to play.

  But tell me, what is wrong with you fools?

  Who gave you permission to break my rules?”

  Mr. G. rapped like a rap star and might have even kind of been cool. That is, if he hadn’t been—well—an extraterrestrial alligator!

  “Uh-oh,” Clementine whispered. “He’s onto our plan!”

  Mr. G. must have overheard Clementine because the next thing he rapped was

  “There’s no teamin’ up in the Gator Game!

  You cheatin’ fools are the ones to blame!

  If being friends is what you choose,

  Then you’re both just gonna have to lose!”

  “Wait! You have it all wrong!” Clementine said, thinking fast. “We’re not friends! As a matter of fact, Player Two and I hate each other’s guts!”

  “And muscles and bones and nerves and arteries!” I added helpfully.

  “Why—I wouldn’t be friends with Player Two if he were the last person on Earth!” Clementine went on. “Just look at this skinny little weasel! His knees are bony, his ears are funny, not to mention the fact that he’s a terrible dresser!”

  “And you can’t believe how much I hate Player One’s guts!” I chimed in. “Oh, sure, she might look kind of cute on the outside, but underneath she’s mean as all get-out! Plus she eats really gross sandwiches! If I were looking to team up with somebody, Player One would be my way, way, way last choice!”

  Clementine and I winked at each other and crossed our fingers. If we were lucky, Mr. G. would never guess that we were just trying to fake him out. Unfortunately, it wasn’t our lucky day.

  He said,

  “Nobody messes with Mr. G!

  Did you think that you could outsmart me?

  Without a loser this game’s no fun.

  So you can say good-bye. Your days are done!”

  Chapter 5

  Swamped

  A trapdoor opened right under our feet and sucked us down another crazy slide.

  “Would you please get your shoe out of my ear?” shouted Clementine. “And where the heck is that flying weenie when we need him?”

  “Why don’t you get your ear out of my shoe?” I yelled back as we fell. “And I hate to say this, but I’m starting to think that Hot Dog might not be coming this time.”

  “Bummer!” Clementine shouted. “By the way, I really didn’t appreciate those snotty remarks you made about me back there!”

  “My snotty remarks?” I yelled. “What do you call ‘skinny little weasel’ with ‘bony’ knees and ‘funny’ ears—a compliment?”

  But before Clementine could argue back, we shot out the bottom of the slide into a freezing cold swamp!

  “AAAHHH!!!” We screamed, sputtered and splashed toward the shore (which was at least five or six zillion miles away).

  “Look, a log!” I yelled out.

  We grabbed on to the slimy, floating log and gasped for air. Then, all of a sudden, the log splashed out of the water, opened its mouth and started chasing us around the swamp!

  “AAAHHH!!!” We screamed again.

  “That’s not a log!” hollered Clementine.

  “No kidding!” I said, swallowing a mouthful of gross green pond water.

  Then, just as the slimy jaws of death were closing in on us …

  “Never fear! Hot Dog is here!” Hot Dog shouted, zooming up in a speedboat. “Unless you two guppies wanna be gator grub, you’d better get your booties in this boaty!”

  Clementine and I climbed aboard as fast as we could. The Game Gator tried to catch us, but Hot Dog put the pedal to the metal and outran the slimy sucker!

  “Thanks!” I panted when we got to shore. “I was afraid you’d forgotten about us!”

  “Me? Forget about you?” said Hot Dog. “No way, partner! The Big Bun and the Dogzalot scientists were having technical difficulties beaming me down here. Turns out Mr. G. put a beam-proof barrier around this whole underground area.”

  “Well, you finally made it, and that’s what matters,” said Clementine. “Now if you wouldn’t mind getting us out of this slime pit …”

  “I would if I could,” said Hot Dog, “but I’m afraid we’re in a bit of a pickle.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” groaned Clementine.

  “The Dogzalot scientists figured out how to break through the barrier coming down here,” said Hot Dog, “but not vice versa.”

  “Vice versa?” I asked.

  “As long as Mr. G’s around,” Hot Dog sighed, “nobody’s getting’ outta this place!”

  “In other words,” said Clementine, “this game isn’t over at all!”

  And boy was she ever right! Just then another trapdoor opened under us and sucked us down another insane slide!

  Chapter 6

  Eggs

  “Whoa, baby!” Hot Dog hollered. “I’m too old for carnival rides!”

  “How old are you, anyway?” Clementine said as we fell.

  “Oh, we don’t give much thought to age on Dogzalot,” he said as we spiraled down, bumping pinball style. “Two, maybe three? You guys know what a lousy memory I have. I guess I mighta, sorta, kinda lost track.”

  “No offense,” I yelled, “but if you can’t even remember whether you’re two or three years old, your memory must be really bad!”

  “Not two or three years!” laughed Hot Dog. “Two or three hundred years!”

  “No way!” I said. “How is that even possible?”

  I had so many questions to ask Hot Dog: Is everyone on Dogzalot born with superhero powers? Do hot dogs go to school? And what does the Big Bun look like? I mean, does everyone just call her that? Or is she really— you know—a great big bun?

  But before I could ask, we plopped off the slide and landed right in front of Mr. G., who said,

  “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise!

  I can hardly believe my eyes!

  You made it out of my swamp I see.

  And brought a juicy little sn
ack for me!”

  Hot Dog stood up superhero style and said, “I’m no snack, Mack! Now remove that beam barrier on the double, and let us out, or you’re in trouble!”

  “Maybe you should leave the rhyming to the experts,” I whispered to Hot Dog.

  If Mr. G. was scared of Hot Dog, he sure didn’t show it. He walked over to a big red curtain and pulled it open. Every kid from my class was there, and they were all trapped in see-through egg jails!

  The whole horrible scene (with our friends in eggs and the red curtain and everything) seemed so much more like some kind of freaky play than real life that Clementine and I just stood there and stared.

  After way too long I finally yelled, “Don’t worry, Marco! We’ll get you out of that thing!”

  Every now and then, Clementine says stuff without thinking it all the way through. “That’s it! You rotten rhyming slimy head!” she yelled at Mr. G. “You let our friends go, or else!” But Mr. G. didn’t seem too scared. He just snapped his fingers, and all of a sudden Clementine was stuck in an egg jail too. Things were going from terribly bad to horribly worse fast!

  The ceiling slid open, and Mr. G. and all of my egg-trapped classmates started floating up. Mr. G. waved down to Hot Dog and me and said,

  “This planet is as boring as it can be,

  So I’m takin’ these eggs back home with me.

  On Gator-Ville, folks have more fun.

  So ciao for now, ‘cause I gotta run!”