Wedgie & Gizmo, Page 2

  I’m gonna bury it under Squirrel Tree because that’s my favorite place. I dig as fast as I can. The ground is soft. I find a root and tuck the bone under it. Then I cover the bone with dirt. I piddle on the tree so everyone knows it’s mine. I’ll check on the bone every day. Sometimes I forget where I bury my bones, but not this time. This is my favorite bone and I’ll protect it. And when it gets ripe, I’ll eat it. I LOVE this bone.

  But what’s that sound? I whip around. Brutus is lying in his yard, behind the fence. He’s watching me. He wants my bone. But he can’t have it. This is my bone, Brutus! And this is my stick! And this is my ball!

  DAD: Why is Wedgie barking at that old dog?

  MOM: Wedgie barks at everything. But Brutus is so old, he can’t hear Wedgie. He’s totally deaf.

  ELLIOT: Is Brutus sleeping with his eyes half open?

  MOM: Yep. It drives Wedgie crazy.

  That’s right, Brutus, you stay over there, on your side of the fence. You don’t want to mess with me, Super Wedgie. I’ve got my pack to protect, like my new boy and my new dad. I circle around my new dad and he pets me. Then I circle around Elliot. But Elliot doesn’t reach down. Why won’t Elliot pet me?

  DAD: What’s wrong, Elliot? You seem upset.

  ELLIOT: I don’t like it here. I don’t have any friends.

  DAD: It’s not easy moving to a new place. But when school starts next month, you’ll make new friends.

  ELLIOT: I don’t want new friends. I want my old friends.

  Elliot’s voice sounds sad. Why’s Elliot sad? Is Brutus making him sad? Is he worried that Brutus is going to take my bone?

  Hey, Brutus! I see you staring at me. I’m not afraid of you, Brutus. You’ll never have my bone. I’ll guard it with my life! And I’ll guard my stick. And my ball. And my family!

  Super Wedgie’s on duty, day and night, night and day, to protect the pack, come what—

  SQUIRREL!

  IT IS MY SECOND NIGHT INSIDE THE BARBIE Playhouse. I am sorry to say that I have made no progress toward building my new Evil Lair. Each time I attempt an expedition, the girl and the canine get in my way. But this time will be different, for I shall wait for darkness. Then, as soon as everyone has fallen asleep, I will make my escape.

  Whilst I wait, I decide to redecorate. These pink walls irk me to my core!

  I make a bigger nest. I make some tunnels. And I add more carpeting. Interior design is one of my many talents.

  MOM: Lights out.

  JASMINE: Please please please let me read a little bit more.

  MOM: You know the rules. It’s time for sleep, sweetie.

  What’s Gizmo doing over there?

  DAD: He likes to build things with toilet paper rolls.

  JASMINE: He’s so silly.

  Night, Mom. Night, Dad.

  DAD: She called me Dad.

  As soon as the adult humans leave the room, I step onto the balcony, watching and waiting for the girl to fall asleep. She is tucked deep into her nest. Soon her breathing slows. I hear the sounds of doors closing and the entire house falls into silence. My time has come! I climb out of the playhouse and jump into the basket of clothing. I am determined to succeed. World domination cannot begin without a new Evil Lair.

  You may be curious, dear reader, about my old Evil Lair. It was hidden behind a machine called Maytag Dryer. It was warm back there, with lots of lint balls for nest-making. An Evil Genius needs to take at least five naps a day, so a comfortable nest is one of the most important parts of a lair. The site also provided plenty of privacy for writing letters to Gweneviere. Gweneviere is a tri-colored, long-haired cavy who lived across the aisle from me at Swampy’s Pet Shop. Oh, how I loved watching her waddle on her wheel. A true athlete. A waddling champion! One day, whilst Gweneviere was in the middle of a training session, Elliot came to the pet shop and offered to be my human servant. As he carried me away I called out to Gweneviere—“When I rule the world, you shall be my queen!” I have been writing letters to her ever since, so that she knows my plans are underway. I employ a flock of carrier pigeons for the delivery of these letters. I pay them in sunflower seeds.

  One day, Gweneviere and I shall waddle, side by side, in a glorious world where cavies roam free, and where all humans serve us!

  But until that day, I have work to accomplish. And thus, I scurry across Jasmine’s room, locate the Polar Expedition Rucksack, which is lying next to a shoe, and make my way toward the exit. I stop for a moment, listening for sounds that the canine might be up and about. It is quiet. That drooling beast is asleep somewhere. I shall do my best to avoid him.

  Because we cavies are soft and round and low to the ground, we can move across floors as silently as lint balls. I traverse the length of the hall without interruption, stopping at the first open door. I peer inside. Elliot is asleep in his nest. I shall need to have a conversation with him about his servant duties. He has been most forgetful. My litter box is not as clean as it should be. And my treat bowl was empty on two occasions! This is not acceptable. We Evil Geniuses need a constant supply of food to fuel our Evil Genius Brains!

  The room in which Elliot sleeps might be an excellent place for my new Evil Lair. However, I would like to see the rest of the house. So I continue down the hallway. A loud noise greets me as I turn the corner. My tiny heart begins to pound. The canine! My legs stiffen, ready to run, but then I realize that the canine’s eyes are closed. He is lying on his side, snoring, with a puddle of drool beneath his mouth. His front legs twitch. Is he dreaming? I doubt that a creature with such little intelligence can dream, but if he can, I suspect they are dreams about silly things, like chasing his own stubby tail or barking at his own shadow. Nothing like my dreams, which are big, and important, and Evil.

  His inferior brain does not detect me as I scurry past.

  A trail of scents leads me to the room where the humans prepare their meals. Beyond another door I find a supply of food that is stacked from the floor to the ceiling. Never in my life have I seen so many edibles. And there, on the first shelf, I spy boxes of cereal, one of the most wondrous of foods. It will be easy for me to reach them. We cavies have very strong legs and mine are extra strong, thanks to Gweneviere. She inspires me to work out on my wheel, in between my naps and my Evil Plan-making. The Barbie Playhouse does not have a wheel. This is another thing I shall need to discuss with Elliot.

  I jump onto the first shelf and begin to chew a hole in a box. Oh, what delicious treats will I find inside? My rump wiggles with excitement. But it is crowded on that shelf, and my wiggling causes the box to fall to the floor. Upon impact it opens, spilling its glorious contents. There are shapes—pink hearts, green clovers, and yellow stars. I prick my tiny ears, worried that the noise has alerted the canine. But he continues to snore. The feast is mine!

  I jump off the shelf and nibble on a yellow star. Joy of joys! It is marshmallow, my most favorite treat in the entire world! I am not supposed to eat them. Elliot says they will make me sick. But I cannot resist. They are scrumptious! I dig through the whole box, eating as many as I can find.

  Just as I swallow the last shape, sunlight peeks through the kitchen window. Morning has arrived. I need to get back to Jasmine’s room before my escape is discovered. And I have a new goal to add to my list. Once I take over the world, I shall make certain that cavies everywhere have as many pink hearts, green clovers, and yellow stars as they desire. I shall make marshmallow shapes the official food of all cavies!

  I start waddling down the hallway, but it is difficult to move. There is a strange feeling in my belly.

  JASMINE: Mom! Dad! Something’s wrong with Gizmo. His tummy is huge!

  ELLIOT: What did you do to him?

  JASMINE: I didn’t do anything to him. I love him!

  JACKSON: Gizmo just farted.

  JASMINE: I didn’t know guinea pigs could fart.

  ELLIOT: Dad, he looks sick. What should we do?

  HEY, SOMEONE LEFT A BOX OF CEREAL ON THE floor. W
hat a great way to start the morning. I LOVE people food. Any kind of people food. Bread, noodles, cookies. Hot dogs are the best. Turkey’s good too. Ice cream makes me shiver but I LOVE it. This cereal is super crunchy. I’m gonna eat it as fast as I can. I don’t even have to chew. The little pieces stick right to my tongue. Wow, this tastes really good! Hey, how come it smells like the Furry Potato in here?

  MOM: Wedgie! Bad dog! Get outta the pantry.

  Uh-oh. I’m a bad dog. I take one more bite before the pantry door closes. Why am I a bad dog? The cereal was on the floor. I like to eat things that are on the floor. I wag my stubby tail again. Pet me pet me pet me and tell me I’m a good dog.

  But Mom doesn’t pet me. She grabs my leash. She wants me to take her on a walk. Sure thing. I LOVE to take Mom on a walk! We go outside. I piddle on the hedge. I bark at Brutus. Stay away from my bone, Brutus! Then I try to piddle on Squirrel Tree, but Mom pulls me to the car. The whole family’s in the car. The Furry Potato’s in the car, too. I LOVE going for car rides. Dad lifts me inside and I sit on Jasmine’s lap. Where are we going? Are we going to the park? I press my nose to the window. Yep, we’re going to the park. Here comes the park. There it is.

  Hey, how come we didn’t stop at the park? I walk onto Jackson’s lap. I try to walk onto Elliot’s lap, but he pushes me away. He’s holding the Furry Potato. The Furry Potato smells different today. He smells like cereal. I LOVE cereal! I walk back to Jasmine. I press my nose to the window again. Are we going to Dog Beach? Yep, we’re going to Dog Beach. Here comes Dog Beach. There it is.

  Hey, how come we didn’t stop at the beach? Where are we going, people?

  The car stops. Oh no. Not that place. No no no no no! I’m shaking all over. Don’t take me into THAT place! I jump to the floor and try to hide under Jackson’s feet. No no no no no! I don’t want to go to THAT place!

  MOM: Wedgie, stop whining. You’re not seeing the vet. Gizmo is seeing the vet.

  JASMINE: Yeah, because he got really fat.

  JACKSON: And he’s farting.

  ELLIOT: Jasmine fed him something bad.

  JASMINE: No, I didn’t. I promise.

  DAD: Come on, kids, let’s go inside and see what the doctor says.

  Now Mom’s holding my leash. I crawl under the car. I use all my super strength so she can’t pull me. But my new dad reaches under and picks me up. He carries me inside.

  This place is a terrible place. It smells like fear and sadness. A dog’s whimpering in the corner. A cat’s howling from its box. I must warn them. RUN! I tell them. RUN as fast as you can from this place. And whatever you do, don’t go into one of those rooms. They do terrible things to you in those rooms. They poke you in the rump, and they stick you with needles. They put drops in your ears and bad-tasting pills in your mouth. Come, follow me! We’ll escape together! I run in a circle five times, but my force field doesn’t activate. The door doesn’t open. My superpowers don’t work here. This place is bad. Very very bad.

  VET: Okay, we can see Gizmo now. Come on in.

  ELLIOT: He’s my pet. I’ll take him.

  JASMINE: But I want to come too.

  ELLIOT: Haven’t you done enough already?

  JASMINE: Mom, why is Elliot so mad at me?

  MOM: Elliot’s just worried, sweetie. He’s having a hard time right now.

  JASMINE: I didn’t feed Gizmo anything bad. I promise.

  MOM: I know you didn’t.

  Don’t go into that room, Furry Potato! The door closes. What are they doing in there? I sniff along the floor. I sniff under the chairs. I sniff along the wall. I sniff all the shoes. I peek into the cat’s box. I see you, cat. Listen to me, cat. When you go into that room, it’s gonna be bad. Real bad! The cat blinks at me. I look at the other dog. We’re both shivering. We’re both looking out the window. Can we go outside? Please oh please oh please? I scratch the door. Can we get out of this bad place?

  Be brave, Furry Potato! I holler. Be brave!

  ELLIOT IS HOLDING ME IN HIS HANDS, WHICH are warm but not as soft as my nest. I wish I were in my nest. Strange sounds are coming from my belly. Churning and rumbling, like a storm. I fear I am doomed. Will this be the end of Gizmo the Evil Genius? Get me a pen and paper, Elliot, so that I may write a farewell to my beloved Gweneviere. Open a window, so that I may summon a pigeon to carry my good-bye. I open my mouth to tell Elliot these things, but I am too weak to squeak.

  Alas, what a tragedy! The cavies are waiting for me to become their king. To rule their cavy world. But if I perish, they will never have a king. They will never know the glory of leaving their cages and living free!

  My belly makes another disturbing sound. What has happened to me? I was eating those delicious marshmallow shapes and then I was struck down with some kind of sickness. It is a mystery that not even my Evil Genius Mind can solve. Perhaps I caught a virus from that drooling canine. He sticks his nose into everything, and then he sticks it on me, spreading who knows what kind of germs. Yes, this is his fault!

  Elliot carries me into a smaller room. I feel so bad. My tummy gurgles.

  ELLIOT: Dad, I’m worried. Gizmo looks terrible.

  DAD: He’ll be okay. The doctor will be here soon.

  I look around. There are posters on the walls. One reads Exercise Your Dog at Least Twenty Minutes a Day. What is wrong with dogs? Why can’t they exercise themselves?

  Another reads Don’t Feed People Food to Your Pets. That doesn’t seem fair. Why don’t humans want to share their food?

  I have many questions, but I am too sick to talk. I roll over in Elliot’s hands. I close my eyes and begin to dream that I am back at Swampy’s Pet Shop. That is where I learned to read. Mr. Swampy had a parrot, and he spent an hour each morning teaching the alphabet to this parrot. I listened, for it was very interesting. It only took me a couple of days to learn the alphabet, and soon I was able to spell out words. It was then I discovered that the lining of my cage was covered in interesting articles. I began to read. I enjoyed the restaurant reviews. I also liked the classified ads, where you could buy everything from furniture to cars. Even animals were for sale. I was horrified to learn that we cavies cost much less than canines. Why would a human pay more for a dog? How troubling. I read the articles quickly, then I asked the chameleon to read me his. But I discovered that he could not read. In fact, none of the other animals could read. They did not gather information from their cage linings—they just pooped on them.

  I was unique. Different. That is when I realized that I was a genius.

  I wanted to share my talent with Gweneviere. Whilst she waddled on her wheel, I read aloud to her, helping her learn how to spell out words. I had to speak loudly, over the constant chirping of the lovebirds and croaking of the frogs. I tried to give a reading lesson every day. Gweneviere never read back to me, but that is because she was so busy with her training. I know she learned. Who better to teach her than an actual Genius? Oh, how I do miss her.

  I open my eyes. Another human has entered the room.

  DR. PINE: Hello. I’m Doctor Pine. What’s your guinea pig’s name?

  ELLIOT: His name is Gizmo.

  DR. PINE: He’s very overweight. What have you been feeding him?

  ELLIOT: Timothy hay, alfalfa pellets, carrots, and apples. And broccoli.

  DR. PINE: Those are the right things.

  DAD: But he got loose, so he might have eaten something else.

  DR. PINE: Please put him on the table and I’ll take a look.

  Elliot places me on a cold metal table. I shiver. Then the doctor presses something against my tummy. Alas, what torture is this? I try to bite her, but she is quick. Oh foul creature, leave me alone!

  She does not obey. Instead, she announces that she is going to give me an X-ray. I have read about these devices. In Elliot’s comic books, X-ray beams are shot at Evil Villains to disintegrate them! I must make my escape! When the doctor picks me up, I try to pry open her fingers with my nose, but her grip is tight. I squeak. I gru
nt. I poop in her hand. But she does not care. She carries me into another room and sets me in a basin. The sides are slippery. I cannot climb to freedom. She steps away. A humming sound fills the air. A light flashes. I hold my breath. Is this the end of Gizmo?

  The humming stops. The light is gone. The doctor scoops me out of the basin and carries me back to Elliot. I am alive! I am too Evil for the X-ray device! I groan with relief. I also groan because my tummy still hurts.

  DR. PINE: I think this is a case of indigestion.

  ELLIOT: Is he going to die?

  DR. PINE: No. But he definitely ate too much.

  Ate too much? I prick my ears. It is not possible for a cavy to eat too much. Eating is what we do! This doctor doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I have always been proud of my eating. Why, at Swampy’s Pet Shop, I was famous for my appetite. One night, using a chewing stick, I pried open the door to my cage and waddled along the shelf until I came to a glorious display called Treats for Rodents. I was enchanted by the choices—seed and nut clusters, fruit wafers, and golden corncobs. For a moment I wished I were a hamster, able to stuff my cheek pockets and take the goodies back to my cage. I spent the whole night eating, resting only for three naps. Mrs. Swampy found me in the morning, asleep on a pile of wrappers. “Oh, you little Evil Genius,” she said to me. And that is when I discovered the truth. I wasn’t just a genius.

  I was an Evil Genius.

  Elliot is picking me up again. His hands feel so nice and warm after that cold metal table. But my belly still hurts.