Hot Dog and Bob: Adventure 1
Read Hot Dog and Bob: Adventure 1 Online
Authors: L. Bob Rovetch
and the Seriously Scary Attack of the Evil Alien Pizza Personby
L. Bob Rovetch
illustrated by
Dave Whamond
For Niko, who started it all,
and for Kia, who finished it—L.R.
To Maria and Zachary—D.W.
Chapter 2 Partners till the Very End
Chapter 3½ Introducing Cheese Face
Chapter 4½ It’s All in the Timing
Chapter 5 FlyingWeenie to the Rescue
The day I met Hot Dog was just like every other day at Lugenheimer Elementary School. Right up until lunchtime, that is.
“Yum! A cookie, salami, french fry and banana sandwich with chocolate syrup, ketchup and mayo,” said my best friend, Clementine.
“You make the grossest sandwiches,” I said.
“They’re not gross,” said Clementine. “They’re creative. Maybe you should try being a little more creative with
your
lunch sometime, Bob.”
“No, thanks,” I said. “I’m happy with my—”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t tell me,” said Clementine. “Your peanuts and pizza. You’ve had the exact same lunch every single day since first grade. I just don’t get why you won’t ever try anything new.”
“Some people like new stuff, and some people like the same stuff,” I explained. “I’m a samestuff kind of a guy. Besides, peanuts are cool. And pizza? Well, just one slice of pepperoni pizza contains—”
“I know, I know,” Clementine interrupted me again. “Exactly blah-blah vitamins and blahblah minerals and blah-di-boring-blah, blah, blah!”
Our friend Marco laughed so hard that milk came squirting out of his nose.
On top of being a same-stuff kind of a guy, I guess you could say I’m also a useless-facts kind of a guy. I remember all kinds of useless stuff, like how many teeth great white sharks have (about 3,000). And how much of the Earth is covered by deserts (about one-fifth). My parents say I have a memory like an elephant. I say that’s why I always need to keep plenty of peanuts handy.
Right about then, somewhere between Marco’s nose squirting milk and me totally losing my appetite, I heard it.
“Hey, buddy!” a strange voice called. “Would ya hurry up and open this thing? I could use a little air in here.”
“What did you say?” I asked Clementine.
“I didn’t say anything,” Clementine replied.
“Was that you?” I asked Marco.
“Was what me?” Marco asked, wiping milk off his shirt.
“That voice,” I said. “Where did that weirdsounding voice come from?”
“In here!” the voice shouted. “Open up your stinkin’ lunch box!”
“Whoa! That was a good one,” I said to Marco. “How’d you learn to talk without moving your mouth like that?”
“Dude, I told you I didn’t say anything,” said Marco.
I knew no one could actually be talking to me from inside my lunch box, but I opened it anyway. And that’s when my life changed forever. Someone actually
was
talking to me from inside my lunch box. And that someone was a hot dog!
