Free Hot Dog and Bob: Adventure 4 by L. Bob Rovetch Page B

“That way there won’t be any losers!”
    “Exactly,” said Clementine. “Only winners!”
    But before we could make a move, the buzzers, bells, whistles and music went off all over again. The gigantic egg was glowing. The gigantic egg was rumbling…

Chapter 4

Mr. G.
    KABLAM! The gigantic egg blew wide open like a red-hot volcano! And out of the fiery flames stepped the freakiest alien we’d met so far! We were amazed to see the biggest alligator in the universe breaking out of that egg, but when he opened his mouth to talk, we were speechless!
    “I’m Mister G., and I’m here to say
The Gator Game is fun to play.
But tell me, what is wrong with you fools?
Who gave you permission to break my rules?”
    Mr. G. rapped like a rap star and might have even kind of been cool. That is, if he hadn’t been—well—an extraterrestrial alligator!
    “Uh-oh,” Clementine whispered. “He’s onto our plan!”
    Mr. G. must have overheard Clementine because the next thing he rapped was
    “There’s no teamin’ up in the Gator Game!
You cheatin’ fools are the ones to blame!
If being friends is what you choose,
Then you’re both just gonna have to lose!”

    “Wait! You have it all wrong!” Clementine said, thinking fast. “We’re not friends! As a matter of fact, Player Two and I hate each other’s guts!”
    “And muscles and bones and nerves and arteries!” I added helpfully.
    “Why—I wouldn’t be friends with Player Two if he were the last person on Earth!” Clementine went on. “Just look at this skinny little weasel! His knees are bony, his ears are funny, not to mention the fact that he’s a terrible dresser!”

    “And you can’t believe how much I hate Player One’s guts!” I chimed in. “Oh, sure, she might look kind of cute on the outside, but underneath she’s mean as all get-out! Plus she eats really gross sandwiches! If I were looking to team up with somebody, Player One would be my way, way,
way
last choice!”
    Clementine and I winked at each other and crossed our fingers. If we were lucky, Mr. G. would never guess that we were just trying to fake him out. Unfortunately, it wasn’t our lucky day.
    He said,
    “Nobody messes with Mr. G!
Did you think that you could outsmart me?
Without a loser this game’s no fun.
So you can say good-bye. Your days are done!”

Chapter 5

Swamped
    A trapdoor opened right under our feet and sucked us down another crazy slide.
    “Would you please get your shoe out of my ear?” shouted Clementine. “And where the heck is that flying weenie when we need him?”
    “Why don’t you get your ear out of my shoe?” I yelled back as we fell. “And I hate to say this, but I’m starting to think that Hot Dog might not be coming this time.”
    “Bummer!” Clementine shouted. “By the way, I really didn’t appreciate those snotty remarks you made about me back there!”
    “
My
snotty remarks?” I yelled. “What do you call ‘skinny little weasel’ with ‘bony’ knees and ‘funny’ ears—a compliment?”
    But before Clementine could argue back, we shot out the bottom of the slide into a
freezing cold swamp!
    “AAAHHH!!!” We screamed, sputtered and splashed toward the shore (which was at least five or six zillion miles away).

    “Look, a log!” I yelled out.
    We grabbed on to the slimy, floating log and gasped for air. Then, all of a sudden, the log splashed out of the water, opened its mouth and started chasing us around the swamp!
    “AAAHHH!!!” We screamed again.
    “That’s not a log!” hollered Clementine.
    “No kidding!” I said, swallowing a mouthful of gross green pond water.
    Then, just as the slimy jaws of death were closing in on us …

    “Never fear! Hot Dog is here!” Hot Dog shouted, zooming up in a speedboat. “Unless you two guppies wanna be gator grub, you’d better get your booties in this boaty!”
    Clementine and I climbed aboard as fast as we could. The Game Gator tried to catch us, but Hot Dog put the pedal to