Planet Of The Teeth

(Part 1 of a serialized story I occasionally improv with the boys at night)

Paul, Luke, and Evan Laningham woke early one morning. The familiar theme music of their 3 Dudes Adventures was already playing, so they new this would be an action packed day. Quickly they dressed, loaded their backpacks with peanut butter sandwiches and fruit leathers, strapped on their light sabers and Supersoaker guns, and quietly made their way out to the driveway. Their little Peg Pergo Gaucho Jeep waited pathetically in the driveway. Their Mom had picked it up on the side of the road — a discarded, worn electric toy car that had weathered one too many storms in someone else’s yard. It looked worthless to the untrained eye, but the 3 Dudes knew it would transform into a magic flying machine as soon as they put a Gummy Worm into the key hole and started it up.

Luke jumped in the driver seat, Paul riding shotgun, and Evan in the back to cover any intruders from the rear. For where they were going, they would need a driver with ice in his veins and two sharpshooters with eagle eyes. The were headed to … PLANET OF THE TEETH!

Luke fired up the Gaucho and jammed it into Fly 1. The Gaucho leapt off the ground and rocketed up above their house, the blast sending Tux the cat somersaulting across the lawn and into one of the bubbling fountains. Evan screamed his usual “YEEEEHAAAAWWWWW!” as they picked up speed, rocketing up through the clouds and barely missing some Monarch butterflies migrating to Mexico for the Winter. One did collide with the Gaucho and took up a seat next to Evan. He said to the boys, “Dudes, my name is Larry. If you don’t mind I’ll tag along, since I like peanut butter sandwiches and I smelled them in your backpacks.” The boys agreed and gave Larry a toothpick to use as a sword in case they fell into Harm’s Way, a canyon on Planet of the Teeth where bad things always seemed to happen.

About halfway there, Paul asked to drive, Luke said “no,” and a scuffle ensued, sending the Gaucho into a momentary tailspin while the boys worked out their issues. Finally they calmed down with Paul in the driver’s seat and half a peanut butter sandwich up his nose. Luke was now riding shotgun, but wearing one of Paul’s shoes for a hat and his shirt was on backward and inside out. They apologized to each other, did a quick head butt, and everything was cool.

Suddenly, a bright orange planet zoomed into view, and they realized that in their distracted state they had not realized how close they were to their destination. Paul jammed the breaks and 60 seconds later, and a ball of flames, they landed in Harm’s Way, hair slightly singed but none the worse for it. The Dudes quickly jumped out of the Gaucho and assumed defensive postures with weapons at the ready. Larry stayed behind, working on a peanut butter and Nutella quarter-sandwich. The Dudes had not gone more than 10 paces from their interstellar jeep transport when they heard the familiar and eery sound of “CHOMP! CHOMP! CHOMP!”

It was their nemisis, Moley, king of the Teeth, freshly flossed and shoeless, but as frightening as ever.

(to be continued…)

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