A Giant Dinosaur and a Magical Drumstick

Well, today was very interesting. Here, let me explain. Just turn on your imagination and follow me. . .


My BFF, Kyle Wan Kenobi, and I were walking innocently through the Ding Dong jungle, when suddenly—a gigantic Purple Dinosaur jumped out and wailed.

“BooHoo!” He cried so hard, we felt bad for him.

“Kaylakin Scoobanobi, what do we do?” Kyle Wan Kenobi asked me as he unattached his drumstick and light saber.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged and shifted my weight to one leg as I thought about this sticky situation. “What should we do in this sticky situation?” I asked.

“That’s it!” Kyle snapped and beat his drum stick seven times as he recited the alphabet quickly. Out ran thirteen peacocks carrying pieces of toast, buttered, and covered in jelly.

I looked at him with confuzzlement.

“This Dino is purple,” he answered my unasked question. “Purple Dinosaurs love sticky things.”

“Of course! How had I forgotten?” I watched as Kyle slowly crept up, caution in his beware-ified steps.

“Kyle, how did you become such an Einstein?” I saw him shrug from my position behind him.

Once he had given the Dino his toast—I won’t go into detail of how Kyle was almost stepped on, jumped out of the way, and saw that the dinosaur had a thorn on the bottom of his foot—he gently patted his shoulder.

“There, there,” was all he said as he consoled the giant beast. After awhile, he spoke. “I know that thorn must hurt, but you’re going to have to trust me to get it out. Otherwise it’ll just keep bothering you.”

Red, (that was the Dinosaur’s name,) sat down and sobbed harder. “I don’t care if it still hurts.”

“Why? Isn’t that why you’re crying? If I take it out, it won’t hurt anymore.” Kyle said.

I nodded in agreement.

“My mamma used to take thorns out for me. She told me not to play in the Raspberry Thorn Bunk. But I didn’t listen.” Sniffle. Sniffle. “Now I feel bad.”
I crawled up his huge leg to stand eye to eye with him.

He sniffed again, trying to avoid my stare.

“Red, will you look at me?”

He shook his head, chin tucked at his chest, bottom lip sticking out.

“Pretty please? With a cherry on top?” I pleaded.

He slowly looked up and our gazes collided.

“This is a good lesson. You should always listen to your mother.” I lovingly patted his snout.

He sniffed. Then sobs shook his big frame.

Kyle took my arm and dragged me over to a cluster of bushes. “We should take him back to his mother. Maybe they could come and live with me away from Raspberry Thorn Bunk. We could also come over to your house. He would be great friends with Susanna Pop.” (My pet camel) “We can’t just leave him here.”

I nodded.

We walked over to Red and asked him if he and his mother would be in our family. With his mother’s permission of course. (Again I won’t go into detail about how he jumped up for joy, pushed the thorn further in, and Kyle took it out with his magical drum stick.)

“You never said that thing was magical.” I poked his shoulder.

Kyle smirked. “Hee, hee.”

So, now Red and his mother live happily with Kyle in Twinkie Falls, playing drums and singing songs about Little Debbies.

We all learned to listen to those in authority over us that day. If you don’t, it just leads to trouble.

Oh, about the crying baby in Bubble Bath Park, we figured out that he was only tired and hungry. For broccoli of all things! But now we have a new problem:
The Swiss Roll Fair is coming to town and Red really wants to go on a ride. Problem is he can’t fit on any! Do you have any suggestions on how to make Red happy without harming the machines?

Hope to see you next time!-Kayla