Bratz Super Babyz: A Novelization, Chapter 8

PDVD_002NB: This is a novelization of the film, Bratz Super Babyz. The dialogue is taken verbatim from the movie. The rest are things that I added in, in an attempt to explain some of the stranger parts of the film. To read all parts of this novelization, click here.

Chapter 8

Out on the lawn, the Bratz girls all pretended that their pets had come to visit them. They found their presence comforting in the wake of their defeat and the fact that they were all now homeless. The girls looked from one to the other, as if one of the girls would offer an answer to their problems. But no one did.

“We blew it,” Sasha said, after several minutes of silence.

Yasmin shrugged. “We tried our best,” she told her friends, even though that didn’t make their situation seem any less hopeless.

“There’s gotta be a way to get them out of there,” Jade said, picking at a scab on her knee.

“I’m hungry,” Yasmin declared. “We’ve been out here for hours. It must be almost dinner time.” She angrily thought about those aliens eating their food and enjoying Gran’s cooking instead of them.

Her thoughts were only make worse when Sasha commented. “That they are gonna be eating.”

Just then, Cloe had a thought. “Wait!” She blurted out. “I have a super idea! Come on!”

The girls climbed up the lattice work to their bedroom again, Cloe explaining her plan on the way. Sasha glanced at Yasmin, who then looked at Jade, who just shrugged. It seemed a little extreme, but it was better than nothing and that’s what they currently had.

Once they got into the bedroom, they saw the sleeping Potatoes, loudly snoring and making all kinds of unpleasant noises as they enjoyed their afternoon nap. Cloe stalked up to Spud, who was asleep in her bed and drew back her tiny fist to punch him, but Jade and Yasmin got a hold of her before they could. The girls silently made their way to the stairs.

All four girls went into the kitchen where Gran was still cleaning up the pudding mess. She had given up on trying to find Jade with her kitchen in such a state. Gran had drained the water in the sink and the little girl certainly wasn’t beneath the dirty water, dead, so felt that she had done enough.

“Hi, Gran,” Jade said, softly. She hoped that their caretaker wasn’t too angry with them.

“Is that you, Jade?” Gran asked. “You’re supposed to be napping in your room.”

It took Jade a moment to answer as she was so stunned the older woman actually recognized her after thinking that she was a lumpy Potatoe-child all day. “It’s me,” Jade confirmed. “I’ve been very naughty,” she admitted. “But my friends and I want to help clean this up. I’m really sorry about the mess.”

Gran smiled at her adopted daughter. “Well, that’s better,” she nodded. “How can I cook in all of this?” She asked, gesturing to the disaster area of a kitchen that they were standing in.

“We’ll clean it up,” Sasha offered. “And Gran, pretty please? There’s something we’d really love for dinner.”

“What’s that, sweat pea?” Gran asked, hoping that they wouldn’t ask for anymore pudding.

“Mashed potatees!” Cloe exclaimed, throwing her arms up.

“Lots of ’em,” Yasmin confirmed.

“And French fdries and microwaves baked potatoes and potatoes au gratin!” Jade added, enthusiastically.

“Oh, potatoes!” Gran said in delight. “Oh, that’s my specialty. Coming up. I have a nice bag in the root cellar.” Her doctor had told her months ago that she wasn’t supposed to have potatoes, but what did he know anyway? A few wouldn’t hurt her.

*

Gran gently knocked on the bedroom door and opened it, looking over what she thought were her sleeping daughters. The Potatoes stirred, feeling even more rested than ever after their nap.

“Little girls?” Gran asked as the aliens sat up in bed and looked around the room.

“It must be feeding time for us,” Tuber told his fellows.

“I’m ravenous,” Yam said, getting out of bed.

“Aw, me too,” Spud added.

“I want some of that pudding you were telling me about,” Tot said, happily.

They trooped downstairs and into the kitchen, ready for their meal. Gran put the Potatoes into high chairs and set them around the table. “I bet you’re all hungry,” she told them. “All that scrubbing and cleaning…” she said, trailing off.

“We’re famished,” Yam confirmed. None of the Potatoes thought to question the implication that they had been scrubbing and cleaning when they clearly hadn’t been.

“What a big word, Yasmin,” Gran commented, squinting her eyes at the little girl. It was almost as if something that off about her. But she just didn’t know what. Today had been so strange already. Gran simply didn’t want to deal with anymore bizarre happenings from her adopted children.

Gran grabbed the large bag of potatoes that she had pulled up from the cellar and put it on to the table in front of what she thought were her children, all eager to learn how to cook potatoes. But the aliens gasped.

“Our brothers,” Tot whispered in horror. Earth potatoes were clearly inferior to them, but they were still very similar, biologically and worthy of respect.

“What’s going on?” Yam asked. His first thought was that Gran had figured out what they were and was bringing them more of their fellow potatoes to keep them company. But then Gran did something that no one had expected her to do. She pulled out a peeler and started to talk her way through the recipe.

“Here’s how I do it,” She explained, picking up a potato. “First, you peel them.”

She placed a pot underneath of her and started peeling the potato, its skin falling lifelessly into the steel beneath her. The Potatoes gasped in horror.

“It’s skinning them,” Yam hissed to Tuber. But Tuber was so shocked that he couldn’t respond. The way Gran peeled the skin off in such quick, swift motions, like they were nothing but vegetables was the most barbaric act he had ever witnessed.

Gran continued talking them through how to perfectly skin a potato. Her face twisted into a look of concentration and she peeled one potato after another. When she had finally stopped, the Potatoes breathed in relief only to watch her puck up the peeled potatoes and walk over to the stove where another pot was boiling water.

“Then you plop them in boiling hot water,” Gran instructed, doing so as she spoke.

Tuber realized that there was a tear sliding down his face. He wiped it away in an effort to show his brothers that he was still their tough leader.

“It’s boiling them!” Yam hissed to the other aliens.

“Alive!” Spud added, in horror.

Tuber’s hand clenched into a fist. “Good Gorkus, I think we’re next!” He said, invoking the name of the Potatoes’ only deity.

Completely oblivious to her audience’s distress, Gran walked over to the cutting board with the remaining potatoes. She set them down and picked up one that she placed in the center of the board. “And you chop, chop, chop!” She instructed.

The aliens watched in terror as the older woman chopped the potato into into circular pieces. Yam vomited over the side of his high chair at the gore of the scene. He had only seen the insides of a Potatoe in movies and documentaries about medicine. He had never seen such a sight up close before.

But Gran wasn’t finished yet. “And throw ’em into boiling oil,” she said, tossing that potato into a pan on the stove. “Just listen to ’em sizzle,” she commented as she started chopping another potato up.

Tot tried to speak but all that issued from his lungs was a wheezing, choking sound. “And these are microwaved,” Gran said, placing some more potatoes onto a glass tray. “But don’t forget to put a fork in them first or they might explode all over the place.”

Gran stuck a fork into the potatoes stabbing them over and over again in a display of murderous rage that caused Tot to soil himself. Tuber finally found his voice. He looked over at the agonized Potatoes and shouted, “Evacuate! Before it’s too late!”

The other alien didn’t need to be told twice. They scrambled out of their high chairs and ran into the den as fast as they could.

“Let’s blast out of this glunk!” Spud said, desperately as they ran into the den and closed the door behind them.

“We should try the Quarko-Minora-Seven System,” Tuber said, scrambling for the Matter Exchanger that he had secured on the side of the arm chair. The system he was talking about didn’t actually have a breathable atmosphere, but they could adjust, he figured. It was better go there and take their chances than stay here with murderous monsters.

“Let’s outcrop!” Tot affirmed.

“But our ship is gone,” Spud pointed out.

Tuber almost screamed at Spud for making their bad situations seem even worse. Just then, the door handle rattled. Tuber looked from one of his comrades to the other. “Are you children there?” Gran asked, mystified as to why the girls had so badly wanted potatoes only to run out to their coloring books as she was trying to teach them how to prepare them.

“Quick!” Yam squeaked. “Turn us into something hard to find.”

Tuber grabbed the Matter Exchanger and activated it.

“We wanna be something hard to find!” All of the Potatoes called in unison.

Green lightening issued from the end of the Exchanger and the Potatoes were then transformed into little white mice. Gran opened the door just time to see the white mice look around and try to acquaint themselves with their new surrounds. But none of them could figure out why everything had gotten so small.

“Mice!” Gran shrieked when she saw the four white creatures. She ran from the room and returned a few seconds later with the kitchen broom. “I’ll get you out!” She threatened. “I’ll show you. Nasty little beasties. Get out of my house!” She shouted.

Gran picked up a vase, an heirloom from her mother that she had been saving for the girls, and hurled it at the mice in sheer rage. “How did you get in?” She demanded. “Outside with you!”

She opened the front door and the aliens, who had first witness this woman massacre their people, then chase them with a broom, were quiet glad to run through it and get away from her. “Good riddance!” She called in the direction of the four tiny creatures.

Gran firmly closed the front door and locked it. She replaced the Matter Exchanger with the rest of the remotes on the small table and walked back into the kitchen. “Filth!” She muttered to herself in disgust. Gran made up her mind to call pest control that very next morning and get them out to investigate.

Gran returned to the kitchen to find the little girls back in their high chairs. She looked at them in surprise, but shook her head as they all happily giggled. They must have been playing a game with her when they ran off in the middle of cooking, she figured.

After the cooking was finished, Gran arranged all of the food and served her tiny daughters. “Here you are,” she said, affectionately. She was only glad that her girls had not seen the mice in the living room. Perhaps them leaving their crackers and food out had been what attracted the critters in the first place.

“I thought you had disappeared,” Gran said, instantly forgetting to talk to the girls about being more careful with their snacks.

“No, Gran,” Sasha smiled. “We’re here.”

“And we’re here to stay,” Cloe added.

“Good,” Gran told them, not sure why Cloe had said that. “Now, let’s grub.”

She placed a plate of mashed potatoes in front of Jade, she gave Sasha fried potatoes on a account of her love of all fried food. She offered Yasmin the baked potato and saved the potatoes au gratin for Cloe, as that was her favorite.

“Eat up, my princesses!” Gran encouraged.

“I love potatoes!” Yasmin declared before all of the Bratz dove into their dinner and ate with gusto.

*

That night, Gran tucked the girls into bed. They were already asleep before she even got done kissing them goodnight. Gran smiled at her children, beaming with love. “Goodnight, sweet peas,” she said.

Gran walked to the bedroom door and remembered the girls’ chatter over dinner that night. They had all decided to pretend that their parents were returning the next day to pick them up. “Tomorrow, you can tell your parents all about your adventures this weekend. Can’t you?” She said, softly. Knowing that the girls enjoyed when she played along with them.

But the girls were sound asleep and didn’t even hear the effort that their caretaker was making to work within their delusions. Gran quietly closed the door to their bedroom and walked back to the den. She yawned and decided to see what was on that new channel she had discovered the other night.

Meanwhile, the Bratz girls all dreamt the same comforting dream that night. They imagined their pets, all wearing superhero capes, take flight. They saw in their minds, their animals taking off into the night sky, going out to protect the world from any dangers that might befall it.

*

A few days later, the four white mice had been caught and sold out of a pet shop to none other than Ted. The young man had been ordered to see a psychiatrist after losing his job at the pizza parlor and being arrested that same night. His arrested had happened after he had been found by police, naked and screaming about an alien invasion in the middle of the mall.

The psychiatrist had been very helpful with Ted’s problems and suggested that Ted get a pet and have the pet keep him focused and grounded. After picking the four white mice out that afternoon at a pet store, Ted thought that the experiment was going very well. Ted walked into his kitchen to go find where he had placed the mice food.

Meanwhile, the four aliens were fighting over who got to use the metal wheel, the only entertainment in the entire tank. “I wanna turn!” Tuber objected. “It’s my turn, I tell you!”

Tot looked at him in disgust. Some fearless leader he had turned out to be. They would had been better off staying on their home planet as servants than being rats stuck in a 10 gallon tank.

“Yeah?” Tot shot back. “Well, you can use it. You’re looking kinda round around the middle.”

Tuber’s jaw dropped in shock. It was one thing for the Potatoes to question his intelligence and his leadership abilities, but did they need to call him fat, too?

“Oh geeblick, here it comes,” Yam said, rolling his eyes. The Potatoes already detested Ted and the stench of his apartment.

Ted entered, carrying a box of mice food. He surveyed his new animals with pride. “Hello, my pets,” he greeted them. “What do you have to say for yourselves?” He asked, good naturedly.

Tuber stood to his full height as a rat and pointed at him. “Worship me, you disagreeable lowlife!” He shrieked in his high-pitched rat voice.

Ted fell back in surprise. He backed away from the cage and keep moving until he reached the kitchen. Once he was safely in there, he unleashed a scream of sheer horror.

No one is sure of exactly what happened to Ted after that. But his body was discovered a week later after his mother had been unable to get a hold of him on the phone. Ted’s death was ruled accidental after he had been found to have ingested half a box of rat poison before passing out and never waking up.

The mice had all died of starvation a few days after that. But the police barely had time to note the dead mice when arranging for a crime scene clean up team to come in. Ted’s mother passed away later that year, some say from a broken heart.

*

Four months later, the spaceship that had taken off from Adventure Universe with Ralph and Earl in it, finally touched down on the Potatoe home world, Potland. The two engineers, who had survived by eating the goo that they had found on the ship and the potatoes that Tot had been trying to teach, stumbled out into the unfamiliar world.

They were at first shocked to find themselves no longer in sunny California. But as their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they looked around and found themselves surrounded by beings that resembled the escaped Potatoes. The creatures didn’t look very friendly either.

Seconds before their deaths at the hands of terrified and ignorant vegetables, Ralph turned to Earl and told him, “I don’t think I like this ride.”

The End

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