by Gary Urey
The harness I used to transport Vivian and the Not-Right Brothers to Dr. Wackjöb’s compound lay crumpled in the weeds. It gave me the perfect idea.
“I load up the harness with the hákarl,” I said. “I’ll fly over the Apneans’ staging ground and drop a hunk every twenty yards or so. Remember, Robo-Nose is an exact copy of my sneezer. If I love the luscious smell, then my mirror image will too.”
“It sounds kind of risky to me,” Jimmy said.
“We don’t have any other choice,” Vivian told him. “If the hákarl doesn’t work, we’ll all be dead meat just like those poor decomposing sharks.”
Hundreds of hunks of Hákarl dangled on hooks inside the drying shed. I loaded as many as I could into the harness. Just as I was about to levitate into the sky, I saw the dark cloud of booger blobs getting closer. I stuffed dozens of pinecones into my utility belt in case I needed to defend myself.
“Don’t forget to take some cayenne pepper,” Vivian suggested.
“It doesn’t work on Apneans,” I said. “You saw with your own eyes.”
Vivian shoved a jar into my utility belt. “Cayenne pepper is like having a Boy Scout knife. You never know when it might come in handy.”
I flew low, skimming the treetops to stay out of sight of the booger blobs. Robo-Nose’s snoring had ripped a chasm into the earth ten yards wide and fifty yards deep. The fissure grew longer and longer with every snort from the mighty mechanical nose. When I arrived at the Apneans’ staging ground, I hovered in midair and checked out the scene.
The ground around Robo-Nose was smoking with flames. The two floating magnets were red hot; the light emanating from them was a horrific, fiery vision of Hades. I stuffed a hunk of hákarl up my nose and sneezed with all my might. The rotting shark meat landed within a few feet of Robo-Nose’s throbbing nostrils.
What happened next made my honker hoot with joy! Slimy scent pods shot out of Robo-Nose and sniffed up the hákarl. I sneezed another piece, this time a little farther away. The massive beak rotated its nostrils and rolled toward the stinky meat. Again, the scent pods grabbed the bait and snorted it up in one sniff.
For the next forty-five minutes, Robo-Nose followed the scent of hákarl through the woods like a hungry tiger tracking a wounded goat. A legion of Apneans followed close behind their fearless sniffer. The booger blobs flocked in the sky above me. Out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed a half-dozen of them dive, firing their nose-hair rockets at the ground.
A voice screamed out, “They blew up the Cosmoscope!”
It was Vivian.
I flew as fast as I could toward Dr. Wackjöb’s compound, dropping the last hunks of hákarl along the route. When I arrived, I saw little gray Apneans everywhere.The compound now looked like a war zone. Plumes of dark smoke rose over the devastation. Booger Blobs had blasted the sight into submission, destroying nearly every building. The only thing standing was the swimming pool full of my snot. I desperately sniffed the air, smelling for my friends. A group of Apneans had captured Vivian, Jimmy, and Mumps. The enemy had bound them at the wrists and they were being marched into the woods. Dr. Wackjöb and TJ were nowhere in sight. I shoved a few rounds of pinecones up my nose and dived to rescue my friends.
Mumps looked up and saw me speeding toward him. “Super Schnoz, look out!” he screamed.
I glanced around to heed his warning. That’s when two booger blobs fired at me. Three rounds missed their mark, but the fourth shot was a direct hit. A deadly nose hair pierced my right nostril and sent me spiraling out of control toward the ground.
CHAPTER 24
NOSTRIL-TO-NOSTRIL RESUSCITATION
The blast knocked me out of the air and sent me tumbling into the weeds. My wounded nostril throbbed with pain. Blood dripped from the end, soaking the Super Schnoz emblem on my chest. I inhaled deeply, sniffing to see if my smell powers were still working. The strong, stinky scent of Apneans wafted into my nostrils. I looked up and saw a gang of them racing in my direction.
I reached into my utility belt and shoved five pinecones up each nostril. As the Apneans were about to pounce on me, I pointed my honker howitzer and sneezed right at them. My aim was perfect. The pinecones pierced their invisible shields and blew them across the compound.
Across the battlefield, I watched Dr. Wackjöb and TJ climb out of an underground bunker. They were carrying a huge tub of sloshing green liquid.As the Apneans closed in on them, the two managed to hoist the tub over the rim of the pool and dump its contents. The chemical reaction between the synthetic mucus and my real snot instantly doubled the concoction like a giant batch of bread dough rising over a loaf pan.
A loud rumbling sound came from the woods. Robo-Nose had followed my trail of hákarl just as we had hoped. But how could I deliver the payload? Snaked around the swimming pool was Dr. Wackjöb’s firehose. I realized his plan was to slurp the fake snot up with the hose and shoot it into Robo-Nose’s nostrils.
The idea was brilliant. Except for now, Dr. Wackjöb and TJ were prisoners of the Apneans.
I fought my way to the swimming pool, firing rounds of pinecones at the pursuing aliens and their flying booger blobs. Robo-Nose had discovered the source of the hákarl supply and snorted every bit of the stinky stuff into its greedy nostrils.
What I saw next made my nose quiver with fear. The Apneans were marching my friends straight toward the alien sniffer’s pulsing proboscis.
“Help us, Super Schnoz!” Vivian cried out.
Dr.Wackjöb, Vivian, and the Not-Right Brothers were within twenty yards of Robo-Nose. I had to act or lose my friends and the planet forever. I dove for the firehose. Just as I gripped it between my hands, a booger blob shot at me.The nose-hair rocket punctured the hose, shredding it to pieces. What would I do now? There was only one choice: I would have to inhale the synthetic mucus into my nose and then implant it into Robo-Nose myself.
I gripped the sides of the pool and plunged my nose into the bubbling booger brew. After a quick huff, my nostrils had sucked up every drop of the glutinous mixture. The gunk was super sticky, like Krazy Glue on steroids. I ran toward Robo-Nose and attempted to sneeze the snot into his awaiting nostrils.
Nothing came out.
The stuff had clogged up my nostrils like dry cement.
“Use the cayenne pepper!” Vivian shouted at me. “Rub it inside your nostrils with your finger. The heat of the pepper may be enough to loosen the adherent.”
I grabbed the bottle and dumped some pepper into my hand. Thankfully Vivian had insisted I carry it along. I plunged my pepper-laden finger into my nose and worked it deep into the nasal cavity. A painful burning sensation shot through my forehead. I ran the back of my hand across my nose and saw thick green discharge.
The cayenne was working! My congestion was clearing!
My friends were seconds away from Robo-Nose snorting them up forever. I charged at the evil smelling machine, blowing the contents of my snuffler directly into the nasally clone’s nostrils like I was giving it nose-to-nose resuscitation.
I fell away, gasping for air. Robo-Nose’s nostrils closed shut. It let out a deep choking sound, like it was fighting for breath. The Apneans who were guarding my friends rushed toward their wounded leader.
“Run!” I shouted. “This snorter’s going to explode!”
We all dashed into the woods and watched the scene unfold. The booger blobs flying overhead ignored us and soared to help Robo-Nose.
“Listen,” Vivian said. “The earthquake has stopped.”
“She’s right,” TJ said. “I don’t feel any more tremors.”
“And the crack in the earth isn’t getting any bigger,” Mumps added.
Dr. Wackjöb opened his mouth to comment just as Robo-Nose began to suffocate. The alien ship’s titanium seams split apart like an elephant trying to fit into a pair of pants made for a toddler.
Robo-Nose exploded in a violent shock wave. We all hit the ground as a shower of shrapnel fragments splintered off in every direction. A fireball scorched
the area with red-hot flames.
“Keep your heads down,” Dr. Wackjöb said. “The blast wind is coming.”
“What’s a blast wind?” Jimmy asked.
Before Jimmy could get an explanation, a rush of air like a vacuum began sucking us toward the blast sight.The pull was so strong, we had to grab trees to keep the suction from drawing us back to the source of the explosion.
Then everything grew eerily silent.
The only sounds we heard were Robo-Nose’s sizzling nose hairs.
The Apneans had disappeared, and the few remaining booger blobs were fleeing into the atmosphere toward outer space.
CHAPTER 25
WACKJÖB ENTERPRISES
The Apneans had completely destroyed the Center for UFOs, Earthquakes, and Alien Abduction.
The steady hum of a helicopter’s rotating wings buzzed in the distance.
“A helicopter is coming,” I alerted everyone.
“That’s a helicopter from the US Forest Service,” Dr. Wackjöb said. “They probably saw the explosion from the top of Mt. Washington and are coming to investigate.”
“Great!” TJ chirped. “We can tell them what happened out here. How we saved the world from an alien invasion!”
“Nobody’s telling anybody anything,” I told him. “Our operation is a secret. Remember?”
“But we deserve some recognition! We can be national heroes. They’ll name high schools after us, stretches of highway, skyscrapers, airports. I can see it now: The TJ International Airport of Denmark, New Hampshire.”
“McDonalds can name a new hamburger after me,” Mumps said. “The McMumps Burger! Four all-beef patties, three slices of cheese, and lots of mustard!”
“That’s about the grossest sounding burger ever,” Vivian said and pretended to gag. “I’m glad I’m a vegetarian.”
Dr. Wackjöb stood up and gazed at the ruins of his life’s work. His face was haggard and old-looking. We had been through so much together; I felt bad for the guy. After all, his whole life had exploded in a wad of snot right up Robo-Nose’s nostrils.
“TJ, the authorities will never believe you,” Dr. Wackjöb said. “I have been trying to tell people for twenty years that alien beings are real and were planning an all-out assault on Earth. No one listened and they laughed me right out of Iceland.”
“What will you do now?” Vivian asked.
Dr. Wackjöb shook his head in defeat. “My reputation has already been ruined and now my compound is completely destroyed. I have nowhere to go.”
“You can stay in Denmark and be one of us,” I said.
“Of course!” Vivian beamed. “You can be a new member of our team—Super Schnoz, the Not-Right Brothers, Vivian, and Dr.Wackjöb!”
“Great idea,” Mumps said. “It’s just like when the Human Torch became a member of the Fantastic Four.”
“My dad owns an apartment building on Main Street,” TJ added. “There are a couple of empty apartments.You can live in one of them.”
A smile slowly spread across Dr. Wackjöb’s wrinkly face. “You are very kind,” he said softly. “I accept your offer as it appears I have no other choice.”
“Besides Dr.Wackjöb joining our team, another good thing has come from all of this,” Jimmy said.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Your snoring.We cured it. Now the people of Denmark can finally get a good night’s sleep.”
He was right. Without the Apneas shoving hoses up my nose every night, I was snore free. Now the townspeople wouldn’t make my family and me move! I walked across the scorched battlefield and picked up the tub that held the sticky concoction Dr. Wackjöb and TJ had made. There was still a cupful sloshing around in the bottom.
“This potion you guys made worked like a charm,” I said. “If it wasn’t for this stuff, we’d all be speaking Apnean right now. That was the gooiest, stickiest stuff I’ve ever seen.”
“I was just the helper,” TJ said. “Dr. Wackjöb gets all the credit.”
“Someone should market it as a product for glue,” Vivian suggested. “You’d make a million.”
Dr. Wackjöb’s solemn face grew brighter. His eyes opened wide in realization, like he’d just discovered the secret of the universe. He scooped the last few drops of his creation into a plastic cup. “Children, we need to get away from this place now,” he said. “The US Forest Service and the State Police will be here any moment.”
Vivian, the Not-Right Brothers, Dr. Wackjöb, and I walked down the path and headed back to town.
On the last day of summer vacation before school started back up, I slipped out of the house and hopped on my bike. My neighbors were getting ready for work, their faces fresh from a restful night’s sleep. I pedaled into town as Main Street was just starting to liven up with the morning rush.
All but one coffee shop had closed its doors. Stores like the Soundproofing Emporium, the White Noise Outlet, and the Earthquake Emergency Bargain Bin had gone out of business too. But the storefronts were not empty. New businesses had set up shop, like Glue More, Forever Stick, Snore Be Gone Bazaar, and the Snore No More Shack.
When the earthquakes stopped, the North American Seismological Laboratory moved out of the old toothpick factory and back to California. The new occupant of the brick building was Wackjöb Enterprises—Makers of Gecko Glue® and Snore Cure Mist®.
A large sign outside of town proclaimed: Denmark, New Hampshire—the Glue and Anti-Snore Capital of the World.
After experimenting more with the sticky, snotty gunk, Dr. Wackjöb discovered that by boiling down the synthetic setae into a mist it transformed into a cure for snoring. He wasn’t sure why, but after several clinical trials the facts were undisputable.
Dr. Aðalbjörn Wackjöb, native of Iceland and resident of Denmark, New Hampshire, had discovered a permanent cure for snoring.
I pedaled past Dr. Wackjöb’s factory toward the outskirts of town. There was a rumor going around that a dead moose was lying on the side of a country road. I had been neglecting my scent dictionary as of late and was eager to add some new smells. A decaying, maggoty dead moose would be a perfect new addition.
I felt a slight sting on my nostril. I reached up and gently touched my nose. The wound on my honker from the nose hair-rocket was healing, but it still hurt sometimes.
From down the road of I heard a loud sucking sound.The noise sounded exactly the slurping of a booger blob’s phlegm-powered engine! I ripped open my backpack, threw on my Super Schnoz cape and Mardi Gras mask, and searched the ground for fallen pinecones. The nearby woods were full of them, so I shoved a dozen or so up my nose and waited for the booger blob.
The snotty thing was coming up over the hill! The sickly slurping sound was unmistakable. Just as I was about to fire, I saw that it wasn’t a booger blob after all. Just a rickety old pick-up truck with a bad muffler.
Relieved, I unloaded my nose of all the pinecones except for one. If a real booger blog appeared on the horizon, I wanted to be ready.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2014 by Gary Urey
ISBN: 978-1-4976-9910-6
Pictures by Keith Frawley
Pictures on vi, 16, 43, 56, 66 by Ethan Long
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