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Sorry, I’m A Ninja

Sorry, I’m A Ninja

by

Brian Newlin

Good morning. Yes, I slept well. No, I cannot get myself dressed for school, unless I can wear an inky black shozoko, the traditional garb that allows me to melt into the shadows. Sorry, I’m a ninja.

Breakfast? Yes, thank you,  I am very hungry. I would like pancakes with syrup, a single sausage cut into perfectly identical bite size slices, and milk. Swiftly! No, I cannot come to the table at the moment, I must silently creep up on the cat and pull his tail. 

Go to school? Ha ha ha. That ironic laugh will be the last thing you hear. You have displeased me, and my hands are deadly. 

Very well, I shall attend daycare, but only because I choose to do so. I shall use my ninja powers to disguise myself as a normal, adorable four year old child. Yes, please and thank you, teacher! The other children are vaguely uneasy in my presence. They can sense the coiled tiger of my steely gaze. I warn you, do not touch my choo choo!

I am saddened to discover the promised gold star is not, in fact, a shuriken

I return to my home after my schooling. I will not tell you what I did today. A ninja is silence. And swords. Definitely swords. 

HIYAAAA! Did I startle you, parent? I know I did. Sitting on the toilet is no excuse. A ninja is everywhere and nowhere. Pew, yuck. Were you pooping? I shall leave you to it. 

HIIIYAAAAAAAA! 

Dinnertime. I demand cake, a chocolate chip cookie, chocolate milk, and french fries. That is a proper meal for a ninja. Broccoli?!? FEEL MY WRATH! 

No. I will not pick up these toys. That is not a proper job for a ninja. You shall pick them up for me, while I scale the sofa with my grappling hook. Fool.

Ninja do not take baths. Ok, they do. With bubbles. Many bubbles. More bubbles. I hide amongst the bubbles, waiting to strike. That water all over the floor? It is a trap. For my enemies. Mostly you. HIIYAAAA!

The remote is missing, you say? How strange. Perhaps it was stolen away by the most crafty of assassins, a mere whisper of a ghost of a fleeting memory… a ninja. I will never reveal its location! POOF! Smoke bomb! No, just pretend. Pretend! POOF! SMOKE BOMB!

Bedtime is not for ninja. The night is my home. Do not attempt to lull me to sleep with your stories. Ninja do not sleep. Especially on soft snuggly pillows. Perhaps I shall just close my eyes for a moment. Meditating. Breathing is slowing. Slowing.

HIYAAAA! 

Sorry, I’m a ninja.

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I’ve been a bit busy…

Work has been bonkers lately, but here’s a thing.

Heroines In Warm Cardigans, Myrtle Power.

Heroines In Warm Cardigans, Myrtle Power.

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The Kissing Bee

The Kissing Bee

by Brian Newlin

One sunny springtime morning, Francine Sherbert was buzzing through the garden, looking for some yummy flowers to smell.

Spying a particularly delightful looking yellow daisy, Francine flew past the cucumber plants, around the birdbath, and landed gracefully on the flower petals. Francine was always very proud of her landings.

SSSSHHHLUPPPPP! Francine dipped her tongue into the daisy and sucked up some of the tasty sweet nectar. She couldn’t wait to bring it back to the beehive and make delicious golden honey.

Francine was about to fly away when she saw something. Something cute. Something super cute. There, sitting on the grass, was the roundest, chubbiest, cutest baby Francine had ever seen.

Francine forgot all about flying back the beehive. She really wanted to give that cute baby a kiss.

Francine flapped her wings and flew as quietly as she could towards the baby. Closer.. closer.. closer. Francine looked at the baby’s adorable, cute face, and got ready to give that baby a smooch right on his cute baby nose.

“NO NO BEE NO BEE NO!” yelled a loud scary voice. The baby’s daddy ran across the grass, waving his arms. “Get away! Get away!”

Francine was confused. Why didn’t the man want her to give the baby a kiss? The daddy picked up the baby and ran towards the house. Francine followed him, wanting to see if maybe he wanted a kiss instead.

The man carrying the cute baby ran inside the house. He almost forgot to hold the door for Francine Sherbert, but she slipped in behind him before it closed.

Francine was about to try to kiss the man on his prickly cheek when, suddenly, she saw something. Something cute. Something super, duper cute. There, sitting on the floor, was the fuzziest, floppiest, waggliest puppy Francine had ever seen.

Francine zoomed over to the puppy. The puppy looked so excited to see her! Francine looked at the puppy’s smooshy, cute face and got ready to kiss it on it’s big shiny nose.

“NO NO NO! BEE! NO!” somebody shouted. A mommy ran into the kitchen, waving her hands. “Shoo shoo shoo shoo!”

The woman, the puppy, and the man carrying the baby all ran up the stairs. What a fun game! Francine happily followed them up the stairs after them.

Up the stairs and down the hall, Francine burbled after the family. She couldn’t wait to finally kiss all of them! They all ran into a room and shut the door. Francine giggled and flew through the keyhole. She was so proud of the way she could fly through small spaces.

The woman, the puppy, and the man with the baby were all standing in the corner of the room, pointing at Francine. She started to fly to them, trying to decide who to kiss first, when, suddenly, she saw something. Something cute. Something super, duper, crazy cute. There, sitting on the bed, was the nicest, smartest, most delightful girl Francine had ever seen.

Francine floated over to the girl. The girl smiled at her. Francine smiled back and got ready to give her a kiss on the hand.

“NO NO NO BEE NO NO NO NO!” the man and the woman shouted, waving their arms and jumping up and down. The woman and the man came towards Francine with magazines in their hands. Did they want to show her some pictures of pretty flowers?

“No,” said the girl, very nicely and firmly to her mom and dad. She held out her hand to Francine. She landed on the girl’s finger. Francine was always very proud of her landings. Very softly, very gently, Francine gave the girl’s finger a tickly kiss.

The girl smiled at Francine and brought her to the bedroom window. She opened the window and let Francine fly out of the house and away into the garden. As Francine flew away, she waved at the girl and her family. Francine Sherbert couldn’t wait to get back to the beehive and make some yummy honey for all of her new friends.

THE END

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Underthings

UNDERTHINGS

by

Brian Newlin

Under piles of stuff you leave ‘round the house

Live weird little monsters as small as a mouse.

They aren’t mean or scary and don’t want to bite

But they only come out when you shut off the light.

 

Allothwump nests under old apple peels

You don’t like to eat them so that’s what he steals.

 

Bugglefoot hides beneath boats in the tub

And with your sponge, his bum he will scrub.

 

Clopp lurks in piles of clothes that you dropped

Until you wash them, she’ll never be stopped.

 

Dibblesmith nibbles donuts left overnight

That’s why they all look like Dad took a bite.

 

Embersmith gathers envelopes all in a stack

She scribbles love notes and hopes you write back.

 

Frobblegob makes a fort under the fridge

If you look close you might see a smidge.

 

Glop likes galoshes all muddy and wet

Don’t pick them up or he might get upset

 

Huckenspud hides under the hat in the hall

you dropped on the floor, not hung on the wall.

 

Iddlebit, in an igloo, snuggles under snowshoes.

He dreams all night of a tropical cruise.

 

Jeckelkrip found the jacket dropped under the chair

and is filling the pockets with dust bunnies and hair.

 

Kishkosh makes a blanket from your forgotten kite

I hope she wakes up before the next flight.

 

Lenny likes library books left on the table

You ought to return them as soon as you’re able.

 

McMush makes a home out of mittens and gloves

The more that she finds, the more that she loves.

 

Naggle sits in bowls of leftover noodles

Not much rhymes with noodles, only oodles of poodles.

 

Otto slumbers under your octopus doll

The one that your aunt brought back from the mall.

 

Plim perches in piles of purple pajamas

which are usually worn by crazy old Grammas.

 

Quincefuzz sits under the forgotten quilt

She drinks some nice tea.. oops, look, it’s spilt.

 

Roth hides beneath the tv remote

He likes to pretend it’s a little bed boat.

 

Shlump makes a nest with your old stinky socks

She stuffs them all up with sand, dirt, and rocks.

 

Toesniff is tiny and it’s toenails he takes

He lounges beneath them and eats tiny cakes.

 

Uck finds the underwear left under the bed

She wears them like hats on top of her head.

 

Vlarpo vacations in the dirt filled vacuum

He then puts the dust back into your room.

 

Winfripp make a tent out of old candy wrappers

That’s the best place for sweet little nappers.

 

X wants to rest under your xylophone

He threw out his back and has to lie prone.

Yip knits a nest out of soft yellow yarn

which you didn’t pick up. Were you born in a barn?

 

Zoollabonk hides under uneaten zucchini

You’ll never find her, she’s so teeny weeny.

 

So the next time you leave a mess on the floor

Or on top of your plate

Or next to the door

Underthings might hide there, just take a look

They may even be hiding right UNDER THIS BOOK.

 

THE END

 

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Once Upon A Time Plan B

Once Upon A Time Plan B

Sometimes I forget I made things until I see it on someone’s shelf. Made this for my wife about 10 years ago when I thought “Hey, I could make these for a living!” as I was about to get laid off. I did not get laid off.

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June 13, 2014 · 8:22 pm

The Secret Lair

Part One. Lots of work to do…

The Lair

by Brian Newlin

1.

Nancy did not like her new house. It was boring and stupid and smelled weird. Nobody had lived there for about a year before her parents had bought it, and it had been dusty and dark when she first walked in. Nancy did not like her new town. It was small and dumb and didn’t even have an amusement park. Nancy did not like her new school. The kids were mean and stuck up and smelled weird too.

 

Nancy didn’t know why her family had to move here, to the boring, stupid, smelly house when her old house in her old town and her old friends were just fine. Her mom had explained that they had to move for their job, but Nancy didn’t care. Her little brother Simon said he liked the new house because there was a big yard with a tree and a swing. Nancy thought her little brother was stupid too.

 

On her first day at the new school, Nancy tried to make new friends. She had worn her favorite yellow pants, the ones her best friend Sarah back home had said looked like lemonade. She did like her parents had shown her, stood up in class, smiled, and said, “Hi. My name is Nancy and I just moved here from San Francisco, and I…” Before she could finish, the boy behind her started laughing and yelled, “Look at her pants!”

 

Nancy looked down at her pants, confused. Then she saw it. She remembered her little brother had given her a big big goodbye that morning, but he must have still had peanut butter on his hands because there, right on her butt, was a giant peanut butter brown handprint. And everyone had seen it.

 

“PANTSY NANCY!” the boy laughed, and everyone started laughing too. Nancy felt her face go hot. She felt like she was going to throw up. Nancy quickly sat down, but it was too late. “PANTSY NANCY! PANTSY NANCY!” they all laughed until the teacher made everyone settle down and do math problems. Nancy stayed in her seat until everyone else had left, wrapped her jacket around her waist, and got on the bus to go home. Nobody would let her sit next to them, so she sat in the only empty seat, right up front, next to the little old man driving the bus. Nancy could hear the kids behind her whispering, “Fancy Pantsy Nancy.” and “Her pants look like pee with poop on it.”

 

Nancy didn’t want to cry. She could feel her face get hot again, and she squeezed her eyes shut hard, so hard that it almost hurt, anything to keep the tears from coming out.

 

“You OK?” she heard the old bus driver ask. She opened her eyes but didn’t look at him and nodded quietly. Nancy just wanted to go home, her real home back in San Francisco. “Rough day, huh.” the bus driver said, slowing down to let some kids off. Nancy stared straight ahead, pretending she didn’t see them giggling at her as they went down the steps.

 

Nancy’s stop was next. As soon as the bus squeaked to a halt, she grabbed her bag and rushed to the door. “Tomorrow will be better.” the bus driver said as she ran down the steps. Nancy looked at him as the doors closed, wanting to believe him, but as the bus pulled away she could still hear the kids laughing. Nancy pulled her jacket tighter around her waist and walked home, into her weird smelling house, up the stairs, and into her room. She took off her favorite yellow pants with the barely visible peanut butter handprint on them and threw them into the trashcan.

 

Tomorrow was not better. Or the next day, or the day after that. Nancy heard people whispering and laughing whenever she walked down the hall. She sat alone at lunch, eating her sandwiches and never looking up. Nobody ever picked her to be on their team during recess. Nobody wanted to be her partner in science class. The only person who ever smiled at her was the weird old bus driver, who would drop her off every afternoon and say, “Tomorrow will be better.”

 

“How’s school going?” her mother asked. This was the first time either of her parents had asked Nancy that question since the move. Yes, they had been really busy with unpacking and getting Simon settled in, and their new jobs. Nancy knew all these things, but it still didn’t make her feel any better. Hadn’t they noticed that she had spent every afternoon locked in her room? Or how sad she looked every morning when she walked out the door? “I hate it.” she mumbled. “Sorry, what did you say?” her mother asked, turning on the tv for Simon. “Nothing.” Nancy replied, and walked out of the house and into the back yard.

 

This was the first time Nancy had really been in the huge yard behind the house. It was overgrown with tall grass and weeds, and there was a constant buzzing and clicking of bugs that Nancy could hear even from her room with the window closed. Her dad kept saying he was going to get out there and mow, but they’d been in the house for a month now and they didn’t even have a lawnmower yet. Nancy wandered through the scratchy grass, kicking at rocks and sticks until she stood in front of the giant old tree at the far end of the yard. It was gnarled and old and big, so big that almost half of the yard was covered in shade. Nancy looked up and sighed, thinking of how many leaves she would have to rake soon.

 

Nancy walked around to the back of the tree, happy to discover that it felt like a private spot where nobody inside the house could see her. She sat on the ground and thought about how much she missed her old house and her old school and her old friends. For a minute she thought that maybe, just maybe, she could convince her parents to let her go back and stay at Sarah’s house. She could live in Sarah’s room and go back to her old school, just for the rest of the year. The more Nancy thought about it, the more she realized how that wasn’t really going to happen. Nancy felt that hot sensation behind her eyes again, and she hated it.

 

She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and leaned against the tree. When she opened her eyes, Nancy saw a large knot in the tree next to her face. It looked a little… weird. As she looked closer, she thought there was a bug, like some sort of shiny black beetle in the middle of the knot. She had always liked bugs, and wondered if they were different kinds here than back in San Francisco. Nancy peered closer, trying to see what sort it was, and reached her finger in to try and get it to move. She poked it, but it didn’t move. It didn’t feel like a bug, it felt like a hard piece of metal. Frowning, Nancy pressed it even harder.

 

The beetle, which wasn’t a beetle at all, *clicked*. Nancy stepped back, confused. A seam, outlining the size and shape of a small door, appeared in the tree bark. Nancy gasped. She carefully ran her finger around the seam and was surprised to feel cool air slipping out. She put both hands on the door and felt it slide inwards, just a little bit.

 

“Nancy! Nancy! Where are you? Dinnertime!” her father’s voice floated across the yard. Nancy didn’t want to leave, but she also didn’t want to share her discovery with anyone, not yet. She quickly pressed the button again and the seam vanished. Louder, closer, her father called out, “Nancy?” Without a word, Nancy rushed past him and into the house.

 

2.

The next day at school was almost too much for Nancy to bear. Between the whispered giggles a she walked down the hall, the books getting knocked out of her arms in the stairwell, and the ugly drawing of “Pantsy Nancy” she found underneath her desk, Nancy felt like she was going to explode by the time the last bell rang. The only consolation was knowing that today was Friday, and she’d have the weekend to herself. Two days away from school, two whole days to stay try and figure out the button and the tree with the impossible door.

 

“Take care now,” wheezed the old bus driver, grinning. “Whatever,” Nancy mumbled back, “Weirdo.” Nancy was sure the old man hadn’t heard her, but something in his eyes looked a little sadder even though his smile stayed the same. The door closed and the bus rumbled away. Nancy felt a strange hot spark in her chest. It felt good to make someone else feel bad for a change, even though she knew it was wrong. She shook off the feeling and ran inside, past her mother and wailing little brother and into the back yard. The tree stood there, just like before, but it seemed so much larger today. Nancy carefully checked to make sure nobody was looking, then snuck around to the back of the tree. She felt for the beetle shaped button and gave it a push. CLICK. The seam appeared again, and Nancy gave it a little nudge. It swung wide, and she felt that cold breeze again, rustling her hair and the leaves on the ground. Nancy paused only for a moment, then stepped forward into the darkness.

 

From the little bit of light coming from outside, Nancy could see there was another button on the wall next to her. It was round and plastic looking. Without thinking, Nancy pressed the button. Nothing. She pressed it again. Still nothing. Frustrated, Nancy jabbed the button again, hard. The the door behind her snapped shut. A dim yellow lightbulb high above Nancy’s head blinked on, revealing a ridged metal surface all around her, like the inside of a trashcan.

 

Her finger found the button on the wall, and she poked at it, hoping the door would just open again and she would run out and never go back into the secret tree room again. The door didn’t open, but something else started to happen. There was a hum, a vibration, and the sound of gears. Then, a slight lurch, and Nancy was horrified to realize that the room was moving down. Nancy went to press the button again to try and stop everything, but it was now too high for her to reach. As she watched in panic, the button, along with the faint lightbulb, faded away quickly into the distance.

 

“Don’t panic, don’t panic,” Nancy hissed to herself. But she was panicking. She suddenly realized that nobody knew where she was, and she might end up trapped, *inside of a tree*. She actually let out a little laugh, thinking of how ridiculous it would be, how would her parents or the police ever find her? How dumb would that be? Would anyone at school even notice she was gone? Nancy felt a wave of relief wash over her when the platform lurched to a stop. There was no way to tell how far down she had gone, but the air felt much cooler, and the lightbulb above her was just a tiny pinprick high above her, like a distant star.

 

Then, nothing happened. Was this all there was? As cool as an elevator inside a tree was, Nancy hoped there would be a bit more. As if on cue, there was a faint DING, a hiss, and a door slid open in front of her. Nancy couldn’t make out what was in the room on the other side, but there were some lights, like Christmas lights, blinking on and off. That was unexpected. What was even more unexpected was when a voice, cold and metallic, announced “Welcome back, Doctor Doomsday.”

 

3.

Nancy froze. Was there somebody else down here? Another overhead lightbulb flickered on inside the room, revealing a large metal control panel covered in dials and small blinking lights. Old televisions, both small and large, covered the wall in front of the desk. There was another door on the left wall, but it was closed and didn’t have a handle. Nancy’s eyes quickly scanned the room, but found no hint of anyone in the room. There was a large musty smelling leather office chair in front of the panel, but it looked like nobody had sat in it for a long time.

“Hello? Who’s there?” Nancy called out. “Welcome back, Doctor Doomsday,” the cool metallic voice repeated. “Where are you?” Nancy asked, “Actually, where am I, for that matter..?”

One of the little old televisions on the desk came to life, a small white dot that wavered for a moment, then expanded into a screen of static. The static resolved into a cartoon picture of a woman’s eye. “You are in the Lair, Doctor Doomsday,” the voice replied. Nancy could now tell that the voice was coming from a small wood speaker on the desk.

“The what?” Nancy asked, confused.

“The Lair, Doctor Doomsday. Your secret hidden laboratory and home base.”

“Ooookay. And who are you? Are you watching me from somewhere? Where’s the camera? And what is this place doing under my tree? And-” Nancy babbled

“Error. Error. Multiple queries. Attempting to process. You are speaking to the Brain. I have no visual capabilities. There is no camera installed in the control room. The Lair was constructed under the tree as per your blueprints. Welcome back, Doctor Doomsday, you have been away far too long.”

 

—-

Nancy stepped forward into the room and examined the desk, the walls, and the ceiling. She couldn’t find anything that looked like a camera, and she began to realize that this whole thing was way too elaborate to be some sort of practical joke. “Ok. Ok. First thing, I’m not Doctor whatever. I’m Nancy. You said your name is what, Brain? Where are you?”

The voice was silent for a moment and Nancy was worried that she was alone again. Then, “Does not compute. Only Doctor Doomsday has access to the Lair. Conversely, you are Doctor Doomsday. Correct. I am the Brain. I am located within the Lair. You created me when you constructed the Lair. Shall I activate all systems?”

“Will that turn on the elevator?” Nancy cried, “Yes, do it, I want to go home!”

“Affirmative. Activating all systems.” Brain chirped merrily. More monitors blinked on around Nancy, and a deep hum rumbled up through the floor, through her feet, all the way up into her hair.

Nancy was about to turn and press the elevator button when something curious caught her eye. There, on the monitor, was an image of Nancy’s own back yard. On another one, her bus stop. And her school recess yard. More and more places flickered on and off, streets around tow- the grocery store, the library, the Main Street downtown intersection. Not just still pictures, these were live cameras showing people walking around, driving cars, eating at the diner. Some of the screens remained blank or had static, wavy images that were impossible to make out.

“What… what is this? How are you doing this?” Nancy whispered, confused. “The camera system is 62 percent functional, Doctor Doomsday. Repairs are needed at multiple locations. Shall I dispatch repair bots?” Brain replied. Nancy was too busy looking at all the televisions to bother answering. People were just going on with their day, totally unaware that they were being watched. It was kind of creepy, but Nancy felt a rush of excitement for the first time since the move.

“All systems activated, Doctor Doomsday.” said the Brain. There was a little click and the door next to Nancy slid open. A whoosh of stale air made Nancy cough, and she thought it smelled like her Grandma’s attic. Whoever Doctor Doomsday really was, he hadn’t been in here for a long time. Through the open door, Nancy could see a short hallway curving around into the distance, lined with even more closed metal doors with signs on them.

“Okay. Umm. Brain?” Nancy called out nervously.

“Yes, Doctor Doomsday?” Brain replied, “How may I assist you?”

“How big is this place?” Nancy asked.

“The Lair is exactly 4027 square feet, containing thirteen rooms of various purpose. Just as you constructed.” said Brain.

“This is all under my house??”

“Affirmative.”

Nancy started to walk through the open door and into the hallway. She could see the first door closest to her was labeled “LABORATORY”. Just as she was about to reach out and open the door, she heard a voice, strangely tinny, call her name.

“Nancy! Nancy?”

It was her mother’s voice, coming from one of the televisions on the desk. Nancy rushed back into the control room and looked at the screen. Her mother was wandering around the back yard, looking for her!

“Oh no. No no no. She’s going to freak out if I don’t get back,” Nancy gasped “What am I going to do?”

Brain was silent. Nancy watched nervously as her mother walked around the tree, positive that at any moment she would somehow find the secret door. She exhaled with relief when her mother walked back through the yard and into the house.

“I’ve got to get out of here. Brain. I, err, I command you to let me out of here!” Nancy shouted.

Behind her, Nancy heard a pleasant “ding!” and the elevator door slid open. Nancy bolted into the elevator and pressed the button. The door closed and the elevator rose smoothly upwards.

“Farewell, Doctor Doomsday. See you soon.” Brain’s voice spoke from a hidden speaker in the elevator ceiling. The door opened, and Nancy was back in her yard, jogging towards the house as the tree sealed itself up behind her.

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My Dentist the Dinosaur

Wrote this in about 45 minutes, it’s been rattling in my brain for a bit so I wanted to get it out, but kinda thinking it would make a better picture book.

My Dentist the Dinosaur

by

Brian Newlin

 

My mom brought me to the dentist. She said it was time for a checkup. I said I didn’t want to go. She said that was too bad.

 

We drove to the dentist office and went inside. My mom told the man behind the desk that I was here to see the dentist. The lady told my mom that the regular dentist was on vacation, so I would be seeing a new dentist named Dr. Ollie Saurus. My mom said that was fine. While we waited, I read a magazine about cars.

 

The man behind the desk called my name. My mom said she’d wait there for me. I followed a nurse lady down the hall and into a little room that had posters of yucky teeth on the wall. I sat down in the chair and the nurse put a paper bib around my neck. She told me to wait a few minutes and the dentist would be in to see me. Then she left.

 

After a couple minutes, I heard the dentist walk in behind me. “Hello! How are you today?”

I started to say “Good.” but that’s when I looked. And saw. The dentist. The dentist. Was. A. Dinosaur.

 

Really. A dinosaur, squished into the room, wearing a white doctor jacket, glasses, and a little paper mask on its nose. The dinosaur smiled at me and waved his little claw at me.

 

“Good? Good good good! I’m Dr. Ollie Saurus. Now, let’s see those teeth of yours!” the dinosaur said.

 

I couldn’t say a word. I didn’t know what to say. I just opened my mouth.

 

“Ooooh! Look at all those shiny teeth!” the dinosaur exclaimed. He pressed a button on the floor with his huge scaly toe and the chair tilted backwards.

 

The dinosaur snuffled and wiggled his snout around, trying to get the paper mask to fit better. “Ummm, could you do me a favor and just..?” I slowly reached out my hand and pulled the mask as straight as I could over his giant dinosaur nose.

 

“Thanks! Now, open wide, please.” the dinosaur said, and he leaned in close, close, closer to me. He squinted his yellow eyes and looked at my teeth. He stuck a plastic tube into my mouth and pressed another button. The tube was like a vacuum and started sssshlllucckkinnng up all my drool.

 

He picked up a metal scraper thing off the table with his tiny little claw hand and, very gently, poked a couple of my teeth. “Hmmmmmm… tell me, how often do you brush?”

 

“Bllagglll sshmuuggg aafffll ddaafff” I said.

 

The dinosaur smiled and said, “Twice a day? That’s right! Bushing once after breakfast and once after dinner will keep those teeth nice and shiny.”

 

The dinosaur turned on a bright light and looked even closer into my mouth. He scraped a little bit on my teeth with the little metal thing. I looked into his mouth and saw about 100 sharp teeth, each one the size of a carrot. They were all sparkly white. I was surprised that his breath didn’t smell bad at all, sort of minty.

 

The dinosaur picked up a toothbrush and tried to squeeze some toothpaste onto it. He squirted it all over the ceiling, and then knocked over a chair with his long tail. “Whoopsy!” he said, “Could you please help me again?” I squeezed a little toothpaste onto the toothbrush.

 

“Up and down, round and round, up and down, round and round!” the dinosaur sang, carefully brushing all my teeth. Then he said I could rinse and spit water from a cup into this little swirly drain. “It looks like a tiny toilet bowl, doesn’t it?” the dinosaur laughed, and I started to laugh too.

 

“Ok, ok, so, now the floss!” the dinosaur asked, and he took a piece of it and gently ran it between each of my teeth. “How often do you floss?” he asked.

 

“Aaaggaakk florp blurgll gak.” I answered.

 

The dinosaur frowned and said, “That’s all? You really need to floss once a day, it will keep your gums pink and healthy!”

 

The dinosaur finished flossing, pressed the button on the chair so it lifted back up, and said, “Well, that’s it! Your teeth look great, just keep brushing every day and eating healthy snacks like fruits and veggies. Now, you know what will happen if you don’t floss every day, right?”

 

The dinosaur seemed very big all of a sudden. He leaned in close to me, and I remembered all of his long, sharp teeth.

 

“Ulp?” I gulped.

 

“That’s right! Cavities! And we don’t want those, do we? Well, it was very nice to meet you, now I have to go see my next patient. Goodbye!” and the dinosaur stomped out of the room. The last I saw was his long, spiky tail sliding down the hallway.

 

I went out to the waiting room where my mom was still sitting. “How was it?” my mom asked. “Ummmm…good?” I replied. I didn’t know what else to say.

 

“Great!” my mom said, “Don’t forget, we also have to go get your eyes checked. They just called and said your regular optometrist is also on vacation, so they have someone new named… Dr. Mo Rilla.”

 

The End

 

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Jamboree Uke

Jamboree Uke

I said I had a lot of hobbies. Built this cigar box uke during a weekend to once again avoid writing. Do I play? No. Not really.

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June 6, 2014 · 6:43 pm

Tiny Monsters

divided_lady the_astounding_winston yetiTiny Monsterbabayaga

One of my hobbies is making tiny little bronze sculptures, mostly of cryptids. I just like the compact weight of them.

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June 5, 2014 · 5:41 pm

The Cat Shat On That


The cat shat on that. Not the box, on the mat.

I heard a noise, like a pop or a splat.Then there, on the mat, the cat shat on that.

And on the couch, where my sister once sat? Yes, yes indeed, the cat shat on that.

What, on the picture you took in which I look fat? I think that he did, yes, the cat shat on that.

Even on top of my Hank Aaron bat? How did he do it? The cat shat on that.

And what of my gift from Oliver Platt? Drat! My cravat! The cat shat on that.

I’ll bid you adieu and put on my hat… and find one more place that the cat also shat.

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