Funny Boy Meets the Dumbbell Dentist from Deimos (with Dangerous Dental Decay) Read online

“Tupper!”

  “Funny Boy!”

  “Will you two shut up already?” Bob Foster said. “You’re annoying.”

  Tupper was standing there in the spaceship door wrapped up like a mummy, except for her face, which was covered in tears.

  “I TRICKED YOUR LITTLE GIRLFRIEND INTO COMING TO ME FOR A DENTAL APPOINTMENT,” said the alien. “DO YOU THINK THAT’S FUNNY, FUNNY BOY?”

  “Let her go, Dr. Denny!” I shouted. “She never hurt anyone. Well, except for that time at school when she opened the door to her locker and it whacked me in the face.”

  “That was an accident!” said Tupper, sobbing.

  At that moment, on either side of Tupper, two other alien greaseballs emerged. They grabbed her roughly by the arms.

  “I WOULD LIKE YOU TO MEET MY DENTAL HYGIENISTS,” said Denny. “THEIR NAMES ARE HALITOSIS AND GINGIVITIS.”

  “GRRRRRRRRRRR,” said Halitosis. “KILL!”

  “RGGGGGGGGGG,” said Gingivitis. “DIE!”

  Oh great. Now I would have to deal with three of them. They were awful looking, vomit-inducing creatures, too horrible to describe. Just think of the most ugly, disgusting-looking monsters possible, and then imagine something doubly repulsive.

  “They don’t look very hygienic to me,” said Punch.

  I tried to make eye contact with Denny’s hygienist henchmen, but they each had three eyes, and I didn’t know which one to look at. They dragged Tupper down the ramp and over to one of the four dental chairs. Then they strapped her into it tightly. She couldn’t move her arms or legs.

  “Help!” Tupper shouted. “Do something, Funny Boy!”

  “You’ll never get away with this, Denny!” I yelled. “Surrender now, and maybe the criminal justice system will go easy on you.”

  “DON’T MAKE ME LAUGH!”

  Well, that sure didn’t work. Telling bad guys to surrender never works. It’s just as well, because it would make for really boring stories if they simply gave up as soon as we asked them to.

  “KILL?” asked Halitosis hopefully, holding Tupper by the elbow.

  “DIE?” asked Gingivitis.

  “NOT YET, BOYS,” said Denny. “FIRST I MUST DESCRIBE MY PREPOSTEROUS PLAN TO DESTROY THE WORLD.”

  “Oh, this I gotta hear,” said Punch.

  Dr. Denny went over to his giant drill, placing one hand on it, almost lovingly.

  “SEE THIS?” he said. “I WILL USE IT TO DRILL A HOLE IN THE EARTH.”

  “Why?” asked Bob Foster.

  “I WILL CUT A PATH DEEPER THAN THE GRAND CANYON,” Denny said. “AT SOME POINT, THE EARTH WILL SPLIT IN TWO PIECES AND CRACK OPEN LIKE A PISTACHIO NUT! THEN IT WILL SPIN OFF ITS AXIS AND EVERYONE WILL DIE! AHAHAHAHAHA! DRILL, BABY, DRILL!”

  “That’s preposterous!” said Bob Foster.

  “I KNOW,” Denny said. “I ALREADY TOLD YOU IT WAS PREPOSTEROUS.”

  “Do you have any idea how much pain and suffering that will inflict upon the citizens of Earth?” said Bob Foster. “Have you no sympathy at all?”

  “DON’T WORRY,” said Denny. “FIRST I WILL DROWN THE PLANET IN NOVOCAINE. THE CITIZENS OF EARTH WON’T FEEL A THING.”

  “HAHAHAHA!” said Halitosis.

  “HAHAHAHA!” said Gingivitis.

  “Your preposterous plan will never work,” Punch said calmly.

  “WHY NOT, DOG GIRL?”

  “Because there are only a few more chapters left in this book,” Punch said. “These stories always have a happy ending. We’re all fictional, you know.”

  “WE WILL SEE WHO IS FICTIONAL!” shouted Denny. “SEIZE THOSE IDIOTS!”

  We tried to make a run for it, but Halitosis and Gingivitis grabbed Punch, Bob Foster, and me. They dragged us over to the dental chairs next to Tupper and strapped us into them.

  “I’m sorry, Tupper,” I said. “I will always love you.”

  “I guess our love was not meant to be, Funny Boy,” Tupper replied.

  “Ugh! Will you two knock it off?” said Punch. “You’re going to make me throw up.”

  Dr. Denny put on a pair of rubber gloves and went over to Tupper’s chair. He leaned it all the way back and put one of those heavy vests over Tupper’s chest. Then he took some of the dental instruments from a tray and shined a big light on her mouth.

  “OPEN WIDE,” he commanded.

  “No!” she replied.

  “HALITOSIS!” Dr. Denny ordered. “KILL FUNNY BOY!”

  “KILL!” said Halitosis excitedly.

  “Okay, okay!” Tupper yelled. She opened her mouth wide. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh . . .”

  Dr. Denny looked inside Tupper’s mouth.

  “HMMMMM,” he said. “You have a huge cavity here.”

  “I do?” asked Tupper.

  “YES,” said Dr. Denny. “YOUR MOUTH IS A HUGE CAVITY. GINGIVITIS! HAND ME THE LONG METAL STICK WITH THE TINY MIRROR AT THE END.”

  “No!” Tupper shouted. “Leave me alone!”

  “YOU’RE NEXT,” Halitosis whispered in my ear. “THE DOCTOR WILL BE WITH YOU SHORTLY.”

  Ugh. He had bad breath. I struggled to get free, but it was no use.

  “HAND ME THE SHARP POINTY THING!” Dr. Denny commanded.

  “Stop!” screamed Tupper.

  “HAND ME THE THING THAT BLOWS AIR ON YOUR TEETH!”

  “Help!” shrieked Tupper.

  “HAND ME THAT SUCKING THING THAT IS SHAPED LIKE A QUESTION MARK!”

  “Hey, don’t those instruments have names?” I asked Dr. Denny. “I’ll bet you’re not even a real dentist. What dental school did you go to, anyway?”

  “I WENT TO THE PAINE INSTITUTE,” replied Dr. Denny. “THAT IS, PAIN WITH AN E, FOR EXTREME.”

  “No! Don’t!” Tupper shouted. “Funny Boy! Can’t you do anything to stop him?”

  “Quick, Funny Boy! Tell some of your jokes!” said Bob Foster.

  I said the first joke that came to my mind.

  “Why don’t skeletons fight each other?”

  “WHY?” asked Dr. Denny as he worked on Tupper’s teeth.

  “They don’t have the guts,” I said.

  “THAT IS HORRIBLE,” said Dr. Denny. “SPIT.”

  Tupper spit into a little bowl at the side of the armrest. Then she screamed again, when Dr. Denny forced open her mouth.

  “Why did the sheep say ‘moo’?” I asked.

  “WHY?” asked Dr. Denny.

  “It was learning a second language,” I said.

  “TOTALLY UNFUNNY,” said Dr. Denny. “HAND ME THE POKEY THING.”

  “Your jokes aren’t working!” yelled Bob Foster. “What are we going to do now?”

  “Help!” Tupper shouted. “Somebody help me!”

  Dr. Denny took all the instruments out of Tupper’s mouth.

  “I HAVE GOOD NEWS FOR YOU,” he told her. “YOU NEVER HAVE TO BRUSH YOUR TEETH AGAIN.”

  “Really?” Tupper said, cheerfully. “That’s great!”

  “YES,” Dr. Denny continued. “THE EARTH WILL BE DESTROYED TONIGHT. SO YOU NEVER HAVE TO BRUSH YOUR TEETH AGAIN.”

  “Oh no!” we all said.

  “KILL?” asked Halitosis hopefully.

  “DIE?” asked Gingivitis.

  “NOT YET, BOYS,” said Dr. Denny. “FIRST I MUST WORK ON NOT FUNNY BOY OVER HERE. OPEN WIDE . . .”

  “Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”

  CHAPTER 13

  We’re getting near the end now. Will Funny Boy be able to save the world?

  Dr. Denny waddled over to me. He was holding that pointy thing dentists use to scrape stuff off your teeth. I clamped my mouth shut so he couldn’t work on me.

  “HOLD HIM DOWN, BOYS!” he said to his hygienic henchmen Halitosis and Gingivitis. “NOW OPEN WIDE, UNFUNNY BOY.”

  “No!” I muttered through gritted teeth.

  “OKAY BOYS, KILL THE GIRL!” said Dr. Denny.

  “No!” screamed Tupper.

  “Okay, okay, I’ll open wide!” I yelled. “Leave her alone!”

  I opened my
mouth. Dr. Denny pointed the light in my eyes and leaned his disgusting, malodorous, dripping face over me.

  “HAVE YOU BEEN FLOSSING?” he asked me. “YOU HAVE TERRIBLE HYGIENE.”

  “Terrible what?” I asked.

  “HYGIENE.”

  “My name isn’t Gene,” I said. “I already told you, I’m Funny Boy.”

  Dr. Denny failed to appreciate the awesomeness of my hilarity. He was poking around inside my mouth with that pokey thing, and I wasn’t liking it at all. I don’t even like going to my regular dentist. Imagine what it’s like to have a dentist who is a big, sweaty alien freak who wants to crack open the Earth like a pistachio nut.

  “THIS IS GOING TO PINCH A LITTLE,” Dr. Denny said.

  “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Stop!” I begged.

  “Leave him alone!” said Bob Foster.

  “YOUR WISDOM TEETH ARE DUMB,” Dr. Denny said. “I NEED TO PULL THEM OUT.”

  “That won’t make them any smarter!” I shouted.

  “KILL?” asked Halitosis hopefully.

  “DIE?” asked Gingivitis.

  “NOT YET, BOYS,” said Dr. Denny as he picked up a tool that looked like a big pliers.

  “No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I shouted. “Leave my wisdom teeth alone!”

  “Tell some jokes, you dope!” Tupper yelled at me. “That’s your only weapon.”

  Oh yeah! The stress of having my wisdom teeth pulled out by an alien dentist had temporarily made me forget about my superpower of humor.

  “Do you want to hear two short jokes and a long joke?” I asked Dr. Denny.

  “WHATEVER.”

  “Joke. Joke. Jooooooooooookkkkkkkkkkke,” I said.

  “PLEASE SHUT UP,” said Dr. Denny. “I MUST REMOVE YOUR WISDOM TEETH NOW.”

  “I will not shut up!” I insisted. “What did Geronimo say when he jumped out of the airplane?”

  “WHAT?”

  “Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

  “YOU ARE THE OPPOSITE OF FUNNY,” Dr. Denny said, “AND YOUR PATHETIC ATTEMPTS AT HUMOR ARE STARTING TO GET ON MY NERVES.”

  “Where do polar bears go to vote?” I asked.

  “WHERE?”

  “The North Poll.”

  “THAT’S IT!” Dr. Denny said, putting down the pliers. “I WILL PREPARE THE NOVOCAINE! HALITOSIS AND GINGIVITIS, GO WARM UP THE GIANT DRILL! IT IS TIME TO SPLIT THE EARTH IN HALF!”

  The three freaky aliens rushed over to the nearby control panel and started fiddling with a bunch of knobs and buttons.

  “Funny Boy!” Tupper whispered. “Do something!”

  “What do you want me to do?” I replied. “I told my best jokes. He didn’t even smile once.”

  “Don’t you know any dental jokes?” asked Bob Foster.

  Dental jokes! Of course! Why didn’t I think of that earlier? Dr. Denny was a dentist. He would probably find dental jokes to be really funny.

  “Yeah,” said Punch, “maybe dental jokes would work.”

  “Woodwork?” I asked. “Who said anything about woodwork?”

  “Not woodwork,” said Punch. “Would work. I said dental jokes would work.”

  “George Washington had wooden teeth,” I pointed out.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” asked Bob Foster impatiently.

  “Punch said woodwork!” I told him.

  “I did not!” said Punch. “I said would work.”

  I didn’t know what either of them were talking about. Dr. Denny and his malodorous assistants came back from the control panel. Desperately, I searched my memory for jokes about dentists.

  “Why did the dentist go to Venice?” I asked. “To see the root canals.”

  “HA,” said Dr. Denny.

  Well, that was a start, anyway. Maybe not a laugh, but it encouraged me.

  “Do you know what the dentist of the year wins?” I asked.

  “WHAT?”

  “A little plaque.”

  “HA HA,” said Dr. Denny.

  “I think it’s working!” whispered Bob Foster.

  “An old man tells his wife that her teeth remind him of the stars,” I said. “‘Because they twinkle and shine?’ the wife asked. ‘No,’ he said, ‘because they come out at night!’”

  “HA HA HA,” said Dr. Denny.

  “He’s laughing!” shouted Tupper.

  “I AM NOT!” said Dr. Denny.

  I didn’t care. I was like butter. Because I was on a roll.

  “When do most people go to the dentist?” I asked.

  “WHEN?”

  “Tooth-hurty.”

  “HA HA HA HA,” said Dr. Denny.

  “Where does a dentist get gas?” I asked.

  “WHERE?”

  “At a filling station.”

  Halitosis and Gingivitis were giggling now too.

  “Did you hear about the dentist who went out with a manicurist?” I asked. “They fought tooth and nail.”

  “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

  “Why did the holy man refuse novocaine?” I asked.

  “WHY?”

  “He wanted to transcend dental medication.”

  Dr. Denny and the hygienic henchmen (that would be a good name for a rock band, by the way) were doubled over in laughter now. It would be impossible for them to drill the Earth in half, because as everyone knows, you can’t laugh and commit evil deeds at the same time.

  “I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE,” said Dr. Denny. “QUICK! GIVE HIM SOME GAS TO SHUT HIM UP.”

  “What kind of gas?” I asked.

  “LAUGHING GAS, OF COURSE!”

  (BY THE WAY, IF YOU BELIEVE ANY OF THIS, THERE’S A BRIDGE I’D LIKE TO SELL YOU. REALLY, THERE IS. THE BRIDGE IS IN MY GRANDMOTHER’S MOUTH, BUT I’LL SELL IT TO YOU FOR FIVE DOLLARS. SHE WON’T MIND.)

  CHAPTER 14

  This is the big surprise ending! Shhhhh! Don’t tell anybody what happens or you’ll ruin the surprise.

  Dr. Denny picked up a clear mask and forced it down on my face.

  “TURN ON THE GAS!” he ordered.

  “No! Stop!” I yelled, trying to fight him off.

  “Don’t let him do it, Funny Boy!” shouted Tupper.

  “HOW WOULD YOU LIKE A TASTE OF YOUR OWN MEDICINE?” said Dr. Denny.

  As I inhaled the laughing gas, I felt myself slipping into giggling unconsciousness . . . mind . . . fuzzy . . . haha . . . sleepy . . . funny . . .

  With my last ounce of energy, I managed to rip the mask off my mouth, turn it around, and slap it on Dr. Denny’s putrid, malodorous face! Right away, he started laughing.

  “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.”

  “Yes!” shouted Punch. “The laughing gas is working! The tables are turned!”

  “What tables?” I asked. “I don’t see any tables.”

  “It’s a figure of speech, you dope!” shouted Bob Foster.

  Unfortunately, at that moment, Dr. Denny managed to tear the mask off his face. He was still laughing.

  “YOUR HUMOR IS TOO STRONG FOR ME, FUNNY BOY!” he shouted. “BUT I EXPECTED THAT, SO I BROUGHT ALONG A BACKUP DENTIST JUST IN CASE. BRING OUT . . . ROBODENT 2000!”

  The door to the spaceship opened with another whoosh and a huge robot came clanking down the ramp. It was wearing a white dentist’s coat and rubber gloves.

  “WHERE IS MY PATIENT . . .” asked RoboDent 2000. “. . . DO YOU BRUSH AFTER EVERY MEAL . . . LET ME SEE YOUR GUMS . . .”

  RoboDent 2000 rolled over to us and stopped right in front of me.

  “A robotic dentist?” asked Bob Foster.

  “YES!” said Dr. Denny. “AND HE HAS NO SENSE OF HUMOR, SO HE IS INVULNERABLE TO FUNNY BOY’S STUPID JOKES.”

  “Oh yeah?” I said. “We’ll see about that. What’s the messiest sport?”

  “WHAT?” asked RoboDent 2000.

  “Basketball,” I said, “because the players dribble all over the floor.”

  RoboDent 2000 had no reaction at all.

  “Not a sports fan, eh?” I said. “Well, how about this one, big guy? W
hat’s the difference between a school teacher and a train?”

  “WHAT?” asked RoboDent 2000.

  “The teacher tells you to spit out your gum,” I told him, “and the train goes ‘Chew Chew.’ ”

  Nothing. Dr. Denny was right. The robot appeared to have no sense of humor at all.

  “ENOUGH JOKES!” said RoboDent 2000. “I MUST REMOVE YOUR WISDOM TEETH, IN THE MOST PAINFUL WAY POSSIBLE. HAND ME THE PLIERS.”

  “Nooooooooooooo!” I shouted.

  “OPEN WIDE.”

  “Nooooooooooooo!”

  “We’re done for!” shouted Bob Foster.

  “We’re all going to die!” shouted Tupper.

  “AHAHAHAHA!” shouted Dr. Denny. “I’VE GOT YOU NOW, FUNNY BOY!”

  “Wait!” shouted Punch. “Funny Boy, do you know any robot jokes?”

  “RoboDent 2000 has no sense of humor,” said Bob Foster. “Even robot jokes will have no effect on him.”

  “It’s worth a try!” said Tupper, with a pleading look on her face.

  Desperately, I searched my memory for jokes about robots. There weren’t many of them, and they weren’t all that funny, but they were all I had.

  “Why did the robot mow his lawn?” I asked.

  “TO BLEND IN WITH THE HUMANS SO IT COULD INFILTRATE SOCIETY AND ULTIMATELY DESTROY HUMANITY,” said RoboDent 2000.

  “Wow,” I said. “I guess you heard that one already.”

  “Try another joke, Funny Boy!” begged Tupper.

  “How many robots does it take to screw in a light bulb?” I asked.

  “NONE,” said RoboDent 2000. “WE CAN WORK IN THE DARK.”

  “Oh, this guy is good,” I said.

  “Is that all you have?” asked Punch.

  “I have just three jokes left,” I replied. “What do you get when you cross a robot with a tractor?”

  “A TRANS-FARMER,” said RoboDent 2000.

  “HE KNOWS EVERY ONE OF YOUR STUPID JOKES!” said Dr. Denny. “SOON IT WILL BE ALL OVER FOR YOU, FUNNY BOY!”

  “KILL!” said Halitosis gleefully.

  “DIE!” hooted Gingivitis.

  “Not yet!” I yelled. “I still have two more robot jokes left. Hey RoboDent, did you hear that robots don’t have sisters?”

  “THEY HAVE TRANSISTORS,” RoboDent 2000 responded immediately.