by Dan Gutman
After ten minutes of begging and pleading, the guard got on his walkie-talkie. Soon Punch, Bob Foster, and I were ushered into the Oval Office.
The president was sitting at his desk. Well, he was actually sitting behind his desk. But that sounds like he was sitting on the floor, hiding behind his desk.
President Myles Purgallin is a tall, short man who was naked under his clothes. If I was asked to describe his face, I would say he had two eyes, a nose in the middle, and an ear on either side of his head. He was clean-shaven, except for his beard and mustache.
“Dummy Boy,” he said, shaking my hand, “it is so good to see you again.”
“Why?” I asked. “Were you temporarily blinded?”
President Purgallin opened one of his desk drawers and took out a blue postcard.
“This is why I called you here,” he said as he handed me the postcard. It had an Arkansas postmark on it. This is what it said:
YOU ARE DUE FOR A DENTAL CHECKUP!
NAME: PRESIDENT MYLES PURGALLIN
TIME: APRIL 20, 2 P.M.
WHERE: A GRASSY FIELD NEAR THE SOCK HOP DINER, TOAD SUCK, ARKANSAS
“April twentieth is tomorrow,” I said. “So you have a dentist appointment. What’s the big deal?”
He looked at me for a ridiculously long time, mainly so there would be a dramatic pause. Scary music started playing from hidden speakers.
“This postcard is not from my dentist!”
IF YOU READ THIS BOOK AND TELL TEN FRIENDS TO READ IT, YOU WILL HAVE TEN PEOPLE WHO ARE NO LONGER YOUR FRIENDS.
I still didn’t get it. Maybe the postcard got sent to the wrong address. Maybe the dentist was trying to get new patients. Maybe the president’s regular dentist had run away to join the circus as a fire-eater, and this new guy was taking his place. It could mean anything.
“My secretary called to check on the appointment,” President Purgallin said. “The guy who picked up the phone said he was an alien, and that he was going to destroy Earth. And get this—his name was . . .”
There was more scary music.
“. . . Denny!”
“Denny?” I asked. “Like the fast food chain?”
“The point is that it starts with a D, you dope!” yelled the President. “A . . . B . . . C . . . D! It’s the next alien invasion!”
“Why would a dentist want to destroy Earth?” asked Bob Foster.
“Maybe he wants to wear a crown,” I suggested. “Get it? Dentist? Crown? Teeth?”
“This is serious, Bunny Boy!” shouted the president.
“Maybe this Denny guy was just in a bad mood,” I suggested. “Everybody gets cranky from time to time.”
“He wasn’t in a bad mood,” said the president. “In fact, he was laughing. It was an evil cackling laugh. It was haunting.”
“Well, if he had an evil, cackling, haunting laugh, he must want to destroy the world,” said Punch.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “In the movies, villains who want to take over the world always have an evil, cackling, haunting laugh.”
“Now you see why I sent for you, Monkey Boy,” the president said. “I need you to save the world again.”
“It’s Funny Boy,” I corrected him. “Why does it always have to be me? Why don’t you just send in the navy to save the world this time?”
“How is the navy going to get to Toad Suck, Arkansas?” asked the president. “There are no oceans there.”
“Couldn’t you airlift the boats in?” I asked.
“No boats in Arkansas!” the president yelled.
“What about the army?” asked Bob Foster. “Isn’t it their job to defend the country from bad guys?”
“What would I tell the public?” asked President Purgallin. “I’m sending the United States Army to war against a dentist?”
“Good point,” said Punch. “Now I see why the people elected you to be the leader of the free world.”
“So far, we’ve been able to keep this alien landing out of the news,” said the president. “We said that a Hollywood production company is filming a movie about an alien invasion. As long as people think it’s just a movie, nobody will get alarmed. The public just loves alien invasion movies. But soon the people will catch on that it’s not just a movie. That’s why I need you, Sonny Boy. You’re our only hope.”
“What about Bob Hope?” I asked. “He’s a Hope.”
“He’s dead.”
“The alien dentist killed Bob Hope?” I shouted. “Now I’m really mad! How do we get to Toad Suck? I’m going in!”
“I’ll put you on my private jet,” the president said. “Good luck to you, Honey Boy.”
“It’s Funny Boy!” I shouted. “Funny with an F.”
“Whatever.”
Man, I’ve saved Earth three times already! You’d think the guy would know my name by now.
Meanwhile, in Toad Suck, Arkansas, a full dental office had been set up in the middle of the grassy field. A powerful electrical generator had been hooked up to the rocket engine to provide power.
Three shadowy figures emerged from the spaceship.
CHAPTER 9
OOH, THIS IS WHEN THE STORY STARTS GETTING EXCITING! FUNNY BOY IS ON HIS WAY TO TOAD SUCK, ARKANSAS, TO CONFRONT THE DUMBBELL DENTIST FROM DEIMOS. MOVE TO THE EDGE OF YOUR SEAT! THAT IS, IF YOU’RE SITTING DOWN. IF YOU’RE NOT SITTING DOWN, JUST STAY WHERE YOU ARE.
It was fun riding in the president’s private jet. The plane had its own ping-pong table, tetherball court, and cotton candy machine.
Psych! It really didn’t have any of those things, but that would have been cool. We did get little bags of pretzels, though.
Bob Foster spent most of the flight sleeping. I went over to sit next to Punch.
“I’m afraid, Punch,” I confided.
“You’re afraid that the evil alien dentist is going to destroy the Earth?” Punch asked.
“No.”
“Then what are you afraid of?” she asked.
“Spiders,” I told her.
Punch laughed, as only a dog can. Then she closed her eyes, and leaned back in her seat.
“I’m not worried,” she said.
“Why not?” I asked her.
“Because I’m a fictional character,” she told me. “I can’t get hurt. I can’t die. Nothing bad can happen to me because I never existed in the first place. That’s how I deal with life’s problems. We’re all fictional, y’know.”
“So it’s sorta the same reason why fictional characters never go to the bathroom, right?” I asked.
“Exactly.”
“How can you be so sure we’re fictional?” I asked. “You look pretty real to me.”
Punch looked at me.
“A talking dog?” she said, putting her paws behind her head. “Come on. Get real. A few chapters from now, the evil alien is sure to die falling off a cliff into a volcano filled with molten hot lava. Or maybe he’ll eat a poisoned burrito. Either way, there will be a happy ending. We’ll all live happily ever after. Trust me. That’s what always happens in stories.”
Punch seemed pretty sure of herself. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was getting all worked up over nothing.
But just to be on the safe side, I used the plane’s high-speed Internet connection to grab some killer jokes that I could use against the alien dentist.
I went to funnyjokes.com. I went to funnierjokes.com. I even went to funniestjokes.com. There were a lot of great jokes, and they were all free to use without getting permission or paying royalties or anything!
“What do you think of this one?” I asked Punch. “I heard that nearly all accidents occur within twenty miles from home. So I moved.”
“Ugh. Is that even a joke?” Punch asked.
“Okay, how about this one? What did the lawyer name his daughter?”
“What?”
“Sue.”
“Those jokes are terrible,” Punch told me. Now there was a worried look on her face. “If that’s the best you can come u
p with, we’re all going to die!”
“I thought you said fictional characters can’t die,” I said.
But Punch didn’t hear me. She had gotten up out of her seat to go use the imaginary bathroom in her mind.
IF YOU EXPERIENCE DIZZINESS, NAUSEA, OR VOMITING WHILE READING THIS BOOK, THAT’S PRETTY MUCH NORMAL.
CHAPTER 10
THIS IS THE INCREDIBLY TENSE SCENE IN WHICH FUNNY BOY APPROACHES THE SPACESHIP. YOU MAY NEED TO SIT DOWN AND TAKE A DEEP BREATH TO CALM YOUR NERVES AS YOU READ IT.
Finally, we landed at Toad Suck International Airport, which serves the greater Toad Suck metropolitan area. Bob Foster rented a car with a GPS so we could find the location of the alien spaceship.
“Choose any car in the aisle,” the man at the rental car place said to Bob Foster.
“Any car?” Bob Foster said. “You cannot be serious!”
Bob Foster chose a 1985 Yugo and took Route 35 out of the airport. Then he merged onto Route 22 and made a left at some other road that doesn’t exist but I just made up to make it seem like he drove around for a while.
Suddenly, we spotted something in the distance.
“There it is!” Punch shouted. “The spaceship!”
It was a big, silvery space-shippy-shaped thing that towered over the nearby trees. Watching it, I felt the hair on my arms stand up, and realized something right away—I needed to shave my arms. They are really hairy.
“If I don’t make it back alive,” I said to Bob Foster, “you know what to do, right?”
“Rent out your room and sell your stuff on eBay?” asked Bob Foster.
“No!” I yelled. “You should tell everyone how much I loved my adopted planet. Tell everyone how hard I tried to save it.”
“Oh yeah,” Bob Foster said. “After that, I’ll rent out your room and sell your stuff on eBay.”
“That might be hard to do after the Earth is destroyed,” Punch noted.
“Good point,” said Bob Foster as he pulled off the highway at the exit marked “ALIEN DENTIST: TURN RIGHT HERE.”
Bob Foster parked the car about fifty yards from the spaceship so we could walk up to it in slow motion and build suspense.
We got out of the car.
We walked in slow motion toward the spaceship.
I put my left foot forward.
I put my right foot forward.
We built suspense. And I did the hokey-pokey.
As we got closer, I could hear scary music coming from behind some bushes. We passed by, and I saw that there was a full orchestra sitting behind the bushes.
“What are you people doing here?” Bob Foster asked the musicians.
“We were hired to play scary music,” said the violin player. “It enhances the drama of the story.”
“Knock it off, will you?” I told him. “I’m scared enough as it is.”
The musicians packed up their instruments and left. We advanced closer to the spaceship. On the ground next to it, we could see a complete replica of a dental office, but with no roof. There were four dental chairs.
Suddenly, the spaceship door slid open with a whoosh, the way doors always do in science fiction movies but never in the real world. Why is that? I want a sliding door in my house that goes whoosh. Those doors are cool.
Standing before us was . . . the dumbbell dentist from Deimos!
EXCITING, ISN’T IT? I MAY HAVE TO GO LIE DOWN TO REGAIN MY COMPOSURE.
CHAPTER 11
THIS IS WHERE WE MEET THE INCREDIBLY DISGUSTING ALIEN. YOU MAY WANT TO HAVE A BUCKET OR SOMETHING NEARBY, IN CASE YOU NEED TO THROW UP.
Oh, it was an evil-looking creature. Bob Foster, Punch, and I took a step backward, shocked by what we were seeing. The sight was so awful, so repulsive, so disgusting, that just describing it here would probably make me lose my lunch. I’m not sure I can do it.
You insist?
Well, okay.
First of all, his body was a hulking mass of malodorous fat that spilled over the waistband of his sweatpants like a pot of oatmeal that had been left on the stove too long. His face was terrifying, with four eyes arranged in such a way as to allow him to see in all directions simultaneously. His nose was perfectly normal, except for the fact that it was on the top of his head. His mouth was like a mail slot, with rotted, blackened teeth. It looked like he could smoke four or five cigars simultaneously.
What a hideous sight! This alien made Godzilla look like Brad Pitt. We were all trembling with fear and holding onto one another. But at least I didn’t throw up.
“KNEEL BEFORE ME,” thundered the beast as it came down the ramp from the spaceship. “FOR I AM . . . DR. DENNY!”
“Denny the dentist?” asked Bob Foster.
“THAT IS CORRECT,” the monster said, speaking in all capital letters, as aliens tend to do.
“That’s a pretty unusual name for an alien dentist,” I pointed out.
“EARTH IS A PRETTY UNUSUAL NAME FOR A PLANET. WHO SENT YOU TO SEE ME?”
“The President of the United States,” said Punch.
“SO HE RECEIVED MY CARD, BUT WAS TOO COWARDLY TO COME FOR HIS APPOINTMENT. HE SENT YOU IN HIS PLACE.”
“That’s right,” said Bob Foster. “Where did you come from?”
“I COME FROM DEIMOS,” Denny said.
WARNING: SHIELD YOUR EYES OR LOOK AWAY! QUICKLY! IF YOU READ THE NEXT PARAGRAPH, YOU WILL ACTUALLY LEARN SOMETHING.
Deimos? I had a vague memory of Deimos, because my cousin went to a summer camp there one year. It’s a dark, reddish moon, the smaller of the two moons of Mars. It circles Mars every thirty hours.
In Greek, the word Deimos means “panic.” That’s what we were starting to do. This alien looked mean. Bob Foster looked like he was going to pee in his pants. Punch looked like she was going to pee without her pants, because as you know, dogs don’t wear pants.
“How is Deimos different from Earth?” asked Bob Foster, so he could distract the alien with small talk and maybe it would just leave quietly, as if it had shown up at a boring party and went home early.
“THERE IS NO AIR ON DEIMOS,” Denny said. “AND NO WAFFLES.”
“No waffles?” I asked. “How do you survive?”
“WE EAT PANCAKES AND PRETEND THEY ARE WAFFLES.”
“Well, I guess if you put enough syrup on them . . .” I said.
“Who cares about that?” asked Punch. “Why did you come here?”
“I COULD NOT FIND A DENTIST ON DEIMOS, AND I HAVE DANGEROUS DENTAL DECAY.”
“Maybe if they had air and waffles, there would be more dentists,” I suggested. “Because if there are two things that dentists love, they’re air and waffles.”
“Why don’t you just be your own dentist?” asked Bob Foster.
“DID YOU EVER TRY TO LOOK IN YOUR OWN MOUTH?” asked the alien.
“You could use a mirror,” suggested Punch.
“WE DON’T HAVE MIRRORS ON DEIMOS!”
“You’re lucky,” I told the alien. “If I looked like you, I wouldn’t want to go anywhere near a mirror.”
“We can get you a dentist right here on Earth,” said Bob Foster. “No problem. Then you can leave us alone and go home. Or we can just give you a mirror.”
“NO!” thundered Denny the alien. “IT IS TOO LATE FOR THAT. YOUR PRESIDENT HAS OFFENDED ME! SO I WILL DESTROY THE EARTH!”
“Isn’t that a bit of an overreaction?” asked Bob Foster.
“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe you should start by destroying a small village, just to see if you like it. Then you can destroy a town, and then gradually work your way up to big cities and entire planets.”
“ENOUGH TALK!” said Dr. Denny. “I WILL KILL EARTHLINGS ONE AT A TIME UNTIL THEY ARE ALL GONE.”
“Not so fast, Denny!” I shouted. “You leave me no choice but to use my superpower to stop you.”
“THAT’S DR. DENNY TO YOU,” Denny replied. “WHAT SUPERPOWER IS THAT?”
“My superior sense of humor!” I replied. “What do yo
u call a fish with no eyes?”
“WHAT?”
“A fsh,” I told him. “Get it? No I?”
“That’s it?” asked Punch. “That’s the best joke you can come up with? That’s your superior sense of humor? Do you realize how desperate we are? This guy is going to destroy the world!”
“Okay, how about this one?” I asked. “How do you make a werewolf stew?”
“HOW?”
“Keep him waiting in line for two hours,” I said.
“That’s just awful,” said Bob Foster.
But I thought I saw the corner of the alien’s disgusting, dripping mouth go up a little to form the hint of a smile.
“What did Noah use so he could see in his ark?” I asked quickly.
“WHAT?”
“Floodlights,” I told him.
A smile! There was definitely a smile creeping onto his disgusting, malodorous face.
“What are the names of the little rivers that run into the Nile?” I asked.
“I GIVE UP.”
“The juveniles!” I said.
“Look!” Punch yelled. “I think he’s laughing!”
“I AM NOT!” hollered the alien.
“Who invented fractions?” I asked.
“WHO?”
“Henry the One-Eighth,” I told him.
Denny’s enormous, malodorous belly was jiggling now. He wiped away the tears from his filthy, sunken eyes. He was having a hard time controlling himself. All I needed was one more joke to put him away.
“This walrus walks into a bar—”
“STOP!” Dr. Denny hollered, “BRING OUT THE HOSTAGE!”
The door to the spaceship opened once again with a whoosh. And standing there was the love of my life, the beautiful Tupper Camembert.
CHAPTER 12
OH, YOU GOTTA READ THIS! IT’S ALL ABOUT DR. DENNY AND HIS DIABOLICALLY PREPOSTEROUS PLAN TO DESTROY THE WORLD.
“Tupper!” I shouted.
“Funny Boy!” Tupper shouted.
“Tupper!”
“Funny Boy!”