Attack of the Valley Girls

by Greg Trine

  He decided to guess, and hope he got lucky. If all went well, he’d be home before sunrise.

  “Are you sure he’s a wiener dog?” said one of the owls, watching Schnitzel leave.

  “Trust me,” said the other owl.

  * * *

  Brittany and Chantelle pulled up in front of the narrator’s house on Blah Blah Street, on the east side of Blah Blah. The house was completely dark.

  “Are you, like, totally sure about this?” whispered Chantelle. “I’ve never, like, broken into a house before.”

  “Yes, I’m sure. We won’t know how to take over the city if we don’t take a look at the manuscript.”

  The two girls crept around to the side of the house, looking for an unlocked window. They found one and slid it open. Chantelle climbed in first. Brittany used the tiny light on her key chain to show the way.

  Loud snoring was coming from one of the bedrooms. Brittany nodded toward it. “Narrator,” she whispered.

  They found what looked like an office on the other side of the house and began snooping around.

  Brittany shone the tiny light on the desk. And there it was—the manuscript. “Got it.”

  Brittany began turning pages. Midway through the story they learned what they had to do in order to take over Los Angeles. “Okay, let’s go. We found what we were looking for.”

  “Hold on. Let’s take a peek at the ending.”

  Brittany shook her head. “Uh-uh, that would be cheating.”

  “We’re already cheating!”

  “Good point.” Brittany came closer, but stopped herself. “No, we can’t. I want a little mystery in this thing.”

  So does the reader.

  The girls turned to leave. Then Chantelle saw something. “Hey!” she whispered. She pointed to another manuscript. “It’s book eight.”

  “So?”

  “So let’s take a look. I want to see if the aliens make it to Earth. What if they take a wrong turn at Alphacentory?”

  Brittany grabbed Chantelle. “We don’t have time. The narrator might wake up.”

  Chantelle nodded. “Okay, but I have to go to the bathroom first.”

  “Meet you at the car.” Brittany left the office in a hurry.

  Chantelle flipped through the pages of book eight. It was going to be the best one yet! Then another piece of paper caught her eye. It described something called Gamma Drive—how it worked and how to install it. This could come in handy in auto shop, she thought. She grabbed the instructions and stuffed them into her pocket.

  But before she joined Brittany outside, she had one more thing to do. She pulled a short story she’d been working on out of her purse and left it on the narrator’s desk. Then she scribbled a little note.

  6

  BAD-GUY-CATCHING BLUES

  What to do when you’re fresh out of bad guys? This was Melvin Beederman’s problem. He paced back and forth in his tree house. “What do you think I should do, Hugo?” he asked his rat.

  “Squeak,” said Hugo. Most likely this meant “Don’t bother me while The Adventures of Thunderman is on.” Though it might have meant “What are you going to be for Halloween?”

  Melvin decided maybe watching TV and eating pretzels was what he needed. Someone would commit a crime eventually. When that happened, he’d be ready.

  “Pass the pretzels,” he told Hugo.

  He was halfway through his pretzel when he heard it … a cry for help. Without thinking he dove out the tree house window and—

  Crash!

  He got up and tried again.

  Splat!

  Two more attempts.

  Thud!

  Kabonk!

  He was up and flying on the fifth try, as usual. But this time he didn’t care. Melvin Beederman was back on the job. Someone was crying for help. He just hoped whatever it was had on clean underwear.

  * * *

  Melvin was back doing what he did best, but all was not well for Schnitzel the wiener dog. Not only did he spend the night singing “I Am a Wiener Dog, Not a Rat,” but no less than eleven times he stopped to howl at the moon, just to make the point that he wasn’t a rodent.

  The local birds of prey seemed to be getting the message that he was indeed a dog. For the local rat community it was a different story. Schnitzel fell in with a group of Alley Rats who tried to recruit him as their new leader.

  “Listen,” the leader rat had said, “you’re the biggest rat any of us have ever seen. You can help us in our revolt against the Alley Cats.”

  “I AM NOT A RAT!” Schnitzel yelled, and he howled at the moon just to prove it.

  The rats didn’t believe him. They all howled at the moon to prove they could do just as good a job. They couldn’t. It was only a bunch of squeaking, and it was very annoying to anyone who was not a rat.

  But all this was not the worst of Schnitzel’s misadventures. The worst part came later, when a rat named Geraldine developed a crush and began batting her eyelashes at him. Poor Schnitzel! The last thing he needed was a girlfriend—especially one who was a rat. He had to find the mad scientist’s lair. And he had to find it quick.

  “Taxi!” he yelled as a yellow car zoomed past. The taxi didn’t stop. They never do for rats.

  7

  THE VALLEY GIRLS’ SINISTER PLAN

  Now that Chantelle and Brittany had seen the manuscript, they knew exactly what to do in order to take over the city.

  “We know just what to do,” said Chantelle. She didn’t know that she wasn’t supposed to repeat what the narrator says. She didn’t even know that she wasn’t supposed to sneak a peek at the manuscript! What if it was only a rough draft? What if their idea got edited out later? This was confusing stuff.

  That afternoon Chantelle tossed a note onto Brittany’s desk during Mr. Meckleroony’s pottery-making class. It said, “When do we start Operation Take-Over-the-City?”

  Brittany tossed another note back. “Devious and sinister plans are never discussed outside of the lair.” This was a rule that she had just made up. The fact was she wanted to get to Macy’s as soon as possible. There was a jeans sale going on and she had to get there before everything got picked over.

  After school the two girls walked to the mall and entered their lair. Brittany started trying on jeans immediately.

  “Now, according to the narrator’s manuscript, we have to kidnap the mayor’s dog and hold him for ransom until they give us control of the city,” Chantelle said.

  Brittany examined herself in the full-length mirror. She wondered if her butt looked big but she didn’t say anything. She did not want a second opinion on THAT subject.

  “Are you listening, Brittany?”

  “Yes, we kidnap the dog. Got it. Do you know where the mayor lives? And don’t tell me Blah Blah Street.”

  “I will by tonight,” Chantelle said. They couldn’t begin Operation Take-Over-the-City until after midnight. In the meantime there was only one thing to do: Shop!

  * * *

  It was well past midnight when the two girls set off for the mayor’s house. He didn’t live on Blah Blah Street. He lived on Blankety Blank Street, just north of Blah Blah. This was in the Hollywood Hills.

  Brittany drove while Chantelle scanned the houses for the address. The Hollywood Hills was where many movie stars lived. Chantelle was glad she was wearing her new jeans.

  “I’m glad I’m wearing my new je—”

  Ahem!

  “Was that the narrator?” Brittany asked, keeping her eyes on the road.

  “Yes. He hates when I repeat what he says.”

  “I don’t blame him. It is kind of annoying.”

  They drove on and on looking for the mayor’s address on Blankety Blank Street, which, as everyone knows, is just north of Blah Blah.

  * * *

  “I am a wiener dog, not a rat.” Schnitzel stopped singing, looked up at the moon, and howled. You never know when birds of prey are in the neighborhood, and Schnitzel wasn’t taking any chances. So
far his luck had held out. No hawks or owls were circling. And he had finally escaped from the rats who wanted him to lead them in their revolt against the Alley Cats.

  He’d also given the slip to the rat who had a crush on him. He had no time for a girlfriend. Plus, she had the most annoying squeaky voice, not to mention she smelled like cheese!

  But now Schnitzel was alone … in the middle of the night … in the middle of an unknown part of the city. If only he could find his way back. If only he could find something that looked familiar. If only he could—

  Wait a minute! Schnitzel found himself gazing up at an enormous hill. He’d seen this place before. “Holy hilltop,” he said. “I’m almost home.”

  Holy hilltop, indeed! This was one smart dog. Ooo-oow!

  Oops. It was the dog that howled at the moon, not the narrator.

  Schnitzel looked up at the moon and howled. Ooo-oow. He was almost home. He could hardly wait to see his mad scientist master again. He could hardly wait to get his paws on another milk shake.

  8

  TROUBLE AT BERT’S

  While the two Valley girls were searching for the mayor’s address, and while Schnitzel was making his way up an enormous hill, a rat and a superhero were snoring away in their tree house hideout. Actually, it was the rat who was doing the snoring. For a little guy, he sure could make a racket. This made it hard for Melvin Beederman to sleep. He got up and looked at his tired face in the mirror.

  “Holy circles-under-my-eyes,” he said. “Hugo, will you knock off that snoring!”

  Holy circles-under-his-eyes, indeed! Yeah, Hugo, pipe down.

  Hugo didn’t pipe down. And so Melvin turned on the TV and grabbed some leftovers from dinner. He had made Hugo’s favorite, Pretzel à la King. It was cold now, but Melvin didn’t care. He found a cartoon and settled in for a long sleepless night. But …

  Something was wrong!

  It wasn’t the cold Pretzel à la King. It wasn’t Hugo’s snoring. Melvin couldn’t put his finger on it, but something felt different. Trouble was brewing, of course. This was what Melvin was feeling. He leapt to his feet.

  “Hot diggity! Trouble is brewing!” Superheroes don’t usually celebrate trouble, but it had been a while since he’d had a real mission, and he couldn’t help himself. He began doing the dance of the unbored superhero. This shook the whole tree house and woke up the snoring Hugo.

  “Squeak?” Hugo said, which either meant “Stop that racket; I’m trying to snore” or “Do you know how to tango?”

  Melvin didn’t know how to tango, but he did know the Superhero Shuffle. “Hugo, trouble is brewing. I’ve got work to do.”

  Melvin didn’t know what the trouble was just yet. But he could feel his noggin power getting ready to kick in.

  “My noggin power is about to kick in,” he said.

  The narrator didn’t mind that Melvin repeated him this once. It was just that Melvin was sleepy and forgot the rules.

  Melvin climbed down from the tree house and launched himself.

  “Up, up, and away.”

  Crash!

  Splat!

  Thud!

  Kabonk!

  You might think that it would take him more than five tries to get up and flying since he was so tired. And this may be true, but the narrator couldn’t think up any more cool sound effects to go with crash, splat, thud, and kabonk, so let’s just leave it at that.

  Melvin was up and flying on the … ahem … fifth try. He zoomed over the city looking for whatever trouble was brewing. This wasn’t easy, since he hadn’t exactly heard a cry for help. It was just a feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

  But what was it? And where?

  He streaked across the sky, darting in and out between the tall buildings. The moon was shining and Melvin could see his reflection in the windows. He stopped to flex. Doing this was not part of the Superhero’s Code. It was just a Melvin thing.

  Suddenly he heard glass breaking and angry voices. It was coming from Bert’s Bar and Grill, where their slogan was Come to Bert’s and Spend Money. Melvin didn’t have any money, but he knew the sound of a bar fight when he heard one.

  He dropped from the sky just in time. Just in the nick of time to be exact. An angry man was holding a broken root beer bottle and threatening someone else with the jagged edges.

  “Not so fast!” said Melvin, which was part of the Superhero’s Code. You had to say this to give the bad guy a chance to do the right thing.

  This bad guy didn’t. He turned toward Melvin and growled. He actually growled! Like a lion. Like a tiger. Like a bear. Oh my!

  “Who said that?” the man with the bottle asked.

  “Who said what?” Melvin asked.

  “Who said, ‘Oh my’?”

  “The narrator,” Melvin said. “He gets carried away sometimes. Are you going to drop that bottle or not?”

  “Not!”

  “Thought so.” And that’s when Melvin Beederman delivered the famous Melvin Chop. Then he helped Bert put things back in order.

  “How can I ever thank you?” Bert asked.

  “Just doing my job, sir.” This was also part of the Superhero’s Code. Melvin always kept to the code.

  The bar was put back in order, and the band began to play again. Melvin took out his harmonica and played with them. But something was still not right. The bar fight wasn’t the trouble that he had felt was brewing. There was something else.

  Melvin knew this the way he knew what it felt like to go Splat. He said good-bye to the band members after a few songs and went outside. Something bigger was coming.

  And he had no idea what it was.

  9

  A GOOD NIGHT FOR A DOGNAPPING

  “We’re getting closer,” Brittany said.

  “How do you know?” Chantelle kept searching for the mayor’s address.

  “I can feel it. Valley girl’s intuition.”

  Chantelle didn’t know if there was such a thing. She was happy to be getting closer to taking over the city. She had never done this before and she just adored new experiences.

  “Slow down,” Chantelle said. “I think that’s it up ahead.”

  Brittany stopped the car in front of the mayor’s house. “I’m, like, excited. How about you?”

  “Like, totally!”

  The two girls made their way around the side of the house, checking for an open window. Every window in the place was locked. Fortunately, the back door was not.

  “Holy easy-breaking-and-entering!” Chantelle said. “Our evil plan is working.”

  Holy easy-breaking-and-entering, indeed! Their evil plan was working. This was what you call beginner’s luck.

  Brittany opened the back door to the mayor’s house and went inside, followed by Chantelle.

  “Like, what’s the plan?” Chantelle whispered.

  “We kidnap the dog and make our demands to take over the city. Does that sound right to you?”

  “Totally.”

  The two girls crept down the hall and into the living room. They found no sign of a dog, or any other kind of animal. Brittany suddenly stopped and looked at her friend. “What if his dog is a pit bull or a Rottweiler?”

  “It means we better come up with a new plan.”

  “We can’t. The narrator’s manuscript said we kidnap the dog.”

  “Unless it was a first draft. Maybe he’ll cut the dog thing later.”

  “This sure is complicated.”

  “You’re telling me!”

  They searched and searched in the dark house for the mayor’s dog, hoping it was something other than a pit bull or Rottweiler.

  As they say, being eaten alive can ruin your whole day.

  * * *

  While Brittany and Chantelle were busy searching the mayor’s house for a dog to kidnap, Schnitzel was making his way up a very familiar but very enormous hill. It was slow going, since he had to keep his eyes on the sky for birds of prey. He also made frequent stops to howl at the moo
n, sing his “I’m Not a Rat” song, and pee on every fire hydrant he saw. One way or another, he was getting the message across that he was, in fact, a dog.

  It seemed to be working. The hawks and owls ignored him. So did the rats. After a while Schnitzel began recognizing trees and fire hydrants from when the mad scientist took him for walks after a long day of trying to take over the world. Almost home, he told himself. He quickened his pace, no longer howling, singing, or peeing. Okay, he did stop to pee once, but that’s all. He was a dog on a mission.

  Finally, he reached the long driveway of the mad scientist’s house … uh … lair. He went around to the back and shoved himself through the doggy door into the kitchen.

  Home at last! He bent down to kiss the floor. And that’s when he heard the voices.

  “It’s the dog. Grab him, Chantelle! And gag him while you’re at it.”

  “Gag him?”

  “Yes, it’s part of the Kidnapper’s Code.”

  A pair of hands picked Schnitzel off the floor. Someone tied a handkerchief around his snout. He looked around the dark kitchen. Maybe he was in the wrong house. But, no, this was the right house—it had to be. His doggy dish was right there with his name on it—Schnitzel.

  “What’s going on here?” he tried to say in his dog language.

  But all that came out was “Mrrf mrr mmr mmrf.”

  Schnitzel had no idea what was going on here. He struggled to get away, but it was no use. Some girl held him tight. The other was saying, “Like, we did it! Now we can take over the city.”

  “Like, totally,” the first girl replied.

  10

  ONE DAY … OR ELSE!

  Yes, the mayor of Los Angeles and the mad scientist were one and the same person. Being the mayor was just his day job. He was really a mad scientist at heart.

  Word about Schnitzel spread quickly. The guy on the morning news show said, “Mayor’s dog kidnapped. Details after this word from Bert’s Bar and Grill.”