enslaved by cookie overlords and forced to wear peanut butter shackles and snickerdoodle chains.
“Did someone say snickerdoodles?!” Pumpkin Pete cried out as he skidded into the kitchen. He looked at the somber sidekicks, then spotted the doughy spoon. In one quick motion, he snatched it from the countertop and shoved the entire thing into his fat, pumpkin mouth. “Got any milk in this dump?” he asked, completely oblivious to the sad whimper of defeat that leaked from Exact Change Kid’s mouth.
A sad whimper of defeat that meant, “Hey,
you
didn’t stir.”
“First Donutz Village and now this,” Boom Boy groaned.
That’s when my house started to shake.
Chapter Eight
He Likes It! Mikey Likes It!
“I hope it’s not a cookie invasion!” Spice Girl cried, “or we’re all doomed!”
I rushed to my mom’s side and protected her from pans that fell from a nearby cupboard. “It’s an earthquake!” she shouted.
“Everyone drop and roll!” Spice Girl added. “That’s for fires!” I yelled out over the loud rumbling.
“There’s a fire?!” Exact Change Kid yelped. “Quick! Get the hose!” Boom Boy called out, and raced for the front door.
Suddenly, as quickly as it started, the violent shaking stopped. I had never experienced an earthquake before, at least not one that wasn’t caused by some giant earthquake ray or the King of the Tunnel People using the earth’s molten core to cause havoc for the “surface dwellers.”
That’s one thing I’ve noticed about kings from under the earth or sea. They always call us “surface dwellers” and are always causing havoc. They always want to invade and crush the “surface dwellers.” I mean, you’ll never catch me leading an army underground shouting “crush the tunnel dwellers.” Who wants to live underground, anyway? But then, I guess that’s just why they’re always trying to crush us.
What is it with races that live
under
things; like under the sea or the earth? And why do they like havoc so much? Sure,
sometimes
they’ll cause chaos, but nine times out of ten, it’s havoc. You may
think
that “chaos” and “havoc” are the same thing, but trust me when I say there are subtle differences that set the villain apart from the
super
villain.
“Uh, Speedy? Maybe you should come take a look at this,” Boom Boy said, returning to the kitchen.
“If it’s Captain Haggis fighting a ‘tree rat,’ I know all about it,” I replied.
“No. It’s something else,” Boom Boy answered.
“The Good Egg washing my dad’s car?” “Would you just come look already?!”
I walked to the front door with Boom Boy. He grabbed the handle and turned it slowly. As he was about to open the door, he looked at me and said, “You might want to step back a little.”
“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “It’s not really a tree rat, just a squirrel.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, and let the door fly open.
The moment he did, a wind stronger than the sucking power of King Justice’s vacuum assault on the dirt under the couch wrapped around me. The force caused me to stumble forward, and I fell out the door.
That was when I realized two things.
THING #1
When someone tells you that you may want to take a step back before they open the door, it is most likely due to Thing #2.
THING #2
My house was flying through the sky.
I managed to grab the end of the porch. My feet dangled above the earth — about ten thousand feet above the earth. Wind whipped around my body. My grip slipped.
“Grab my hand!” Boom Boy shouted over the howling winds.
He fell to his knees and extended his arm. Spelling Beatrice rushed to his side and the two pulled me back to safety.
Or at least the safety of a house that was flying ten thousand feet up in the sky.
Spice Girl pressed her face against the window. “What are you doing?!” Spelling Beatrice barked.
“Looking for the lady on the broom,” Spice Girl answered, and scanned the skies. “I can’t
“Did someone say snickerdoodles?!” Pumpkin Pete cried out as he skidded into the kitchen. He looked at the somber sidekicks, then spotted the doughy spoon. In one quick motion, he snatched it from the countertop and shoved the entire thing into his fat, pumpkin mouth. “Got any milk in this dump?” he asked, completely oblivious to the sad whimper of defeat that leaked from Exact Change Kid’s mouth.
A sad whimper of defeat that meant, “Hey,
you
didn’t stir.”
“First Donutz Village and now this,” Boom Boy groaned.
That’s when my house started to shake.
Chapter Eight
He Likes It! Mikey Likes It!
“I hope it’s not a cookie invasion!” Spice Girl cried, “or we’re all doomed!”
I rushed to my mom’s side and protected her from pans that fell from a nearby cupboard. “It’s an earthquake!” she shouted.
“Everyone drop and roll!” Spice Girl added. “That’s for fires!” I yelled out over the loud rumbling.
“There’s a fire?!” Exact Change Kid yelped. “Quick! Get the hose!” Boom Boy called out, and raced for the front door.
Suddenly, as quickly as it started, the violent shaking stopped. I had never experienced an earthquake before, at least not one that wasn’t caused by some giant earthquake ray or the King of the Tunnel People using the earth’s molten core to cause havoc for the “surface dwellers.”
That’s one thing I’ve noticed about kings from under the earth or sea. They always call us “surface dwellers” and are always causing havoc. They always want to invade and crush the “surface dwellers.” I mean, you’ll never catch me leading an army underground shouting “crush the tunnel dwellers.” Who wants to live underground, anyway? But then, I guess that’s just why they’re always trying to crush us.
What is it with races that live
under
things; like under the sea or the earth? And why do they like havoc so much? Sure,
sometimes
they’ll cause chaos, but nine times out of ten, it’s havoc. You may
think
that “chaos” and “havoc” are the same thing, but trust me when I say there are subtle differences that set the villain apart from the
super
villain.
“Uh, Speedy? Maybe you should come take a look at this,” Boom Boy said, returning to the kitchen.
“If it’s Captain Haggis fighting a ‘tree rat,’ I know all about it,” I replied.
“No. It’s something else,” Boom Boy answered.
“The Good Egg washing my dad’s car?” “Would you just come look already?!”
I walked to the front door with Boom Boy. He grabbed the handle and turned it slowly. As he was about to open the door, he looked at me and said, “You might want to step back a little.”
“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “It’s not really a tree rat, just a squirrel.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, and let the door fly open.
The moment he did, a wind stronger than the sucking power of King Justice’s vacuum assault on the dirt under the couch wrapped around me. The force caused me to stumble forward, and I fell out the door.
That was when I realized two things.
THING #1
When someone tells you that you may want to take a step back before they open the door, it is most likely due to Thing #2.
THING #2
My house was flying through the sky.
I managed to grab the end of the porch. My feet dangled above the earth — about ten thousand feet above the earth. Wind whipped around my body. My grip slipped.
“Grab my hand!” Boom Boy shouted over the howling winds.
He fell to his knees and extended his arm. Spelling Beatrice rushed to his side and the two pulled me back to safety.
Or at least the safety of a house that was flying ten thousand feet up in the sky.
Spice Girl pressed her face against the window. “What are you doing?!” Spelling Beatrice barked.
“Looking for the lady on the broom,” Spice Girl answered, and scanned the skies. “I can’t
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