This Adventure Bites

My mouth opens, releasing the pungent smell of the incubated breath from the past 6 hours. Tortilla, processed cheese, chili, and other nom-noms from the previous night’s gathering. My stomach may be happy, but my nose scrunches with disdain. Dizziness circles my head while I reach for my swirly blue-colored toothbrush, my only weapon to combat the budding halitosis. Squeezing the toothpaste on the bristle, a routine I do every morning, a small gruff voice interrupts me.

“Hey, buddy, get this creamy crap off my head.” My hand freezes. I swivel my head left and right, searching for the source. “Down here, pal. You know, in your hand.” My head angles towards the hand gripping the toothbrush. “Yeah, right here. You miss me, yet?”

My head cocks to the side. What the hell did I eat last night? “I’m don’t understand. How are you—”

“Ooo, a talking toothbrush. Whoopie! Listen, you got bigger problems, pal. They know you didn’t brush last night. I figure you got about…sixty seconds before it arrives.”

“It?”

“Listen, get this crap off my head and let’s get out of the here. Trust me, you don’t want to be trapped. Your health depends on it.”

My eyes remain transfixed on the brush. I heard it, but my brain refuses to wrap around the idea of a talking toothbrush. “Stop daydreaming. You got forty-five seconds!” The voice sucks me back to reality. With a flick of my wrist, the creamy toothpaste lands in the basin below me. I turn towards the door, but my legs refuse to budge, cemented in the floor beneath me. No, not cemented, sinking! “What is going on?” I scream.

“Hey, don’t look at me. I don’t have legs.”

Useless brush. I am waist deep in my floor when there is a pounding on the bathroom window.

“Dive! Dive! Dive!” The brush shouts.

Taking the advice, my body contorts, allowing me to dive through the floor into jello. The solid, dark red goo prevents me from crashing onto my spacious kitchen floor. My body heat melts an area around me, allowing me to move freely throughout the kitchen. Pounding steps with a rhythmic accuracy of a drum snare approach the dining-room door. I look down at the toothbrush with my fingers wrapped around it.

“You should have run when I told you,” it says.

The door swings open, revealing a large molar standing on two thick roots, acting as legs. Arms flail on both of its sides. An angry expression in the middle of the enamel.

The surrounding jello gradually melts, covering the floor with gelatinous goo. The menacing molar skates towards, leaving the island counter to separate us. My legs freeze and my eyes close. Darkness comforting me before my doom.

“Greens, unite! It’s our time to shine!” A small voice shouts from behind me. I turn to see my refrigerator door open and an armada of fruits and vegetable stand, leafy fists in the air.

“Yeah! Veggies to the rescue!” Toothbrush vibrates with joy.

I duck, allowing the furious fiber to fight. They strike the malicious molar hard. Swarming around it. Staining its pearl-colored coat with green. The battle rages for less than a minute before a crushed carrot becomes the first victim. The Molar tramples turnips. Pummels peppers. Obliterates onions. Two heads stand before me: Lettuce and Cabbage.

“Don’t worry, we got this,” Lettuce says, high-fiving a confident cabbage.

As they return to the battle, I rush to the low cabinets containing my pots and pans. Pulling out a skillet, I turn to join the fight. The molar mauls the heads. I’m too late and alone again.

“Attack it, you fool,” the toothbrush exclaims.

“Isn’t that your job!” I say.

“This job’s too big for me.”

I cast the skillet and it shatters into crumbles, like a cookie.

Toothbrush screams. “That didn’t work.”

“No duh!”

The malicious molar prepares for an attack, leaping atop the counter. Nothing to use for a weapon. I brace for the bully’s blitz.

“This looks like a job for a steak-out!”

Now what? A steak and several prawns fly out of the fridge. Of course, the meats. Protein power?

The steak throws itself in pure kamikaze-fashion at the molar. The prawns pounce on its head. I glance back into the fridge to see what is remaining for combat. It’s pretty empty. All the raw ingredients gone. Dairy is MIA. I knew I should have bought milk and cheese earlier. Thanks to my no carb diet, grains are absent, except for three cheat-day special brownies.

A scream for assistance pulls my attention back to the battle. The molar pounded the proteins into pulp. Shit! No choice left. I reach for the brownies.

“Let us in, Coach. We won’t let you down,” they brag, bouncing on the plate.

“You’re leaving your derriere to dessert?” Toothbrush comments.

“Shut up!” I say, releasing the brownies.

The battalion of brownies fly towards the molar. A smirk appears on the enamel. It’s ready. Hungry. Licking its…lips? The brownies barrage the molar. Chocolate coats the tooth swiftly. The molar freezes. Shutters. Then stunned by sweetness. A soft sound emits. The molar is…purring?

“What just happened?” The words seep past my lips.

“I don’t know, but I think…you may have satisfied it,” Toothbrush supplies.

The molar falls on its side. Purring in hazy bliss.

#

“Yo, sis, wake up!”

My eyes open. The lingering haze is a cloud surrounding my head. I giggle. “What? I’m not sleeping.” Martika stares at me. Her pearly complexion under her light-green shirt invites more laughter.

“You were totally asleep. What did you think of the brownies?”

“Girl, they took me on a bold adventure.”

She smirks. “I told these brownies would relax you.”

“They did more than that. I was like a kitten combined with a satisfied sweet tooth.” I stand up.

“Where are you going?” She says.

“I need to brush my teeth…my dental health depends on it.”