When we last left our story (from my 8-year-old self via yesterday’s blog post), the gang had returned from an errant time travel trip to the exact moment the blueberry dog was due to wake up from a wayward taser shot.
Chucky was wrong about Good Humar Man’s house smelling like a dead skunk. The stench was from the blueberry dog, who had been sitting unconscious for six months and emitting a smell that can only come from a magical dog named after a fruit.
“You idiot, it’s just the dog” Danny said. “Help me clean him up, and would someone open a window!”
Danny and Chucky picked up the groggy dog and brought him into the shower to rinse him off. Since he is a magical dog, he actually enjoys being bathed and sweet blueberry scents began to waft from his coat.
Troy took charge of airing out the house as the rest of the group set about to planning their retaliation for the dog’s kidnapping.
“Why don’t we just let it go and get some Taco Bell,” Chris said. “All of this time traveling and bad-guy chasing has my stomach screaming for food.”
“You’re always hungry,” said Troy.
“So you should be used to it by now.”
“Annoyed, yes, but I’ll never get used to your constant belly-aching. Pun intended.”
“Whatever.”
Danny and Chucky came back into the room with the now-sweet-smelling dog. The group decided they should try to return to the lair and confront Blueberry Bebop and his henchmen, Dr. Heat and Mr. Chewy.
With no better ideas than simply blowing up the hideout, Chucky did something so simple that everyone was shocked it worked. He asked the dog what to do. After all, what good is a magical dog if he can’t talk?
The magical blueberry dog, who curiously did not have a cool name like Elmer or Fabio, launched into a speech defining such clear and precise strategy that you would have thought he was trained at West Point. Actually, he was trained at West Point, but it was the West Point Kennel.
He explained that the henchmen had simple weaknesses that would render them completely inert–Mr. Heat was susceptible to ice cream, while Mr. Chewy was easily distracted and frightened by penguins.
The team was so pumped up by the dog’s speech that they immediately ran from the building to launch their attack on Bebop’s hideout. Fortunately for them, there are not many inhabitable places in Antartica, so the hideout was conveniently located across the street.
Good Humar Man went straight for Mr. Heat, defeating him with a barrage of ice cream sandwiches, fudgesicles, chocolate eclairs and sno-cones. In fact, he was so satisfied by the cool treats that he officially changed his name to Mr. Lukewarm.
Mr. Chewy was a slightly more difficult challenge, but the group was in luck. It just so happens that Chucky was an experienced penguin whisperer, and was able to get a dozen of the tuxedo birds to follow him to the lair. At the mere sight of the waddling bunch, Mr. Chewy began screaming and shaking uncontrollably as he pleaded with Chucky to make them stop. Chucky is an extreme guy, as noted by his use of bazookas and tasers earlier in the story, so he allowed the penguins to knock Mr. Chewy down and perform a choreographed celebratory dance just to freak him out.
Mr. Chewy was never the same, and would spend the rest of his life wandering Antartica screaming the words of Nelly Furtado’s “I’m Like a Bird.”
With the henchmen taken care of, the group focused on Blueberry Bebop. A quick search led them to a large room on the second floor of the lair. They were surprised to find the door unlocked and Bebop inside taking a nap. Apparently he had not heard the encounters with his henchmen.
“This looks like it is going to be easy,” Chris said. “Should I go ahead to Taco Bell and get us a table?”
“Yeah, we got this,” Good Humar Man said. “Just make sure you don’t get one too close to the soda machine. I hate when people have to stand next to our table while I am eating.”
“No problem, chief.”
Chucky, Troy and Danny sprang into the room and pinned Bebop to the bed. Good Humar Man shut the door and yelled to wake up his adversary.
“Get up you jerk!”
Bebop’s eyes popped open, and he saw that his captors had made it impossible for him to escape. He knew why they were there and sought to explain himself.
“It’s all just a big mix-up you see,” he said. “I have a blueberry dog too and he ran away from home. I was looking for him out in the street and I thought I saw him in your yard.”
“So you lost your dog and thought you would just take mine,” Good Humar Man said.
“No, no! He looks exactly like my blueberry dog–they all do!”
“A likely story. I think you just wanted to have a magical one. You should have just paid the extra $20 at the pet store, you cheap jerk!”
“I didn’t have the money back then, and besides, I don’t even need the magical version. I was happy with my blueberry dog, he just ran away. That’s all.”
“You know, I am feeling very generous today. I am going to believe you. I just have one stipulation–you have to mow my lawn for a year.”
“Your lawn? We live in Antartica.”
“Oh, right. How about you just come to Taco Bell with us. You’re buying.”
“Deal!”
The whole crew went off to Taco Bell and shared a peaceful meal at a table that was far from the soda machine. While they were eating, Bebop’s blueberry dog returned home after being gone for six months. Since the door was locked, he curled up on the front porch and went to sleep, hoping his owner would return soon and let him in from the cold.
The End.
