practice doubled, of course, since every kid in town wanted a paranormal dentist whomight be able to tighten his or her braces just enough to pull in radio signals from dead people—or even better— -famous dead people.
Kids watched his show every week, hoping beyond hope that something mystical would actually happen, but nothing ever did.
This week's show, however, promised to be very interesting.
Kevin, Teri, and Josh arrived at the small office building where Franklin J. Philpot, D.D.S., had his offices. The waiting room was empty when they arrived.
"Dr. Philpot has canceled all his afternoon appointments," the receptionist explained through her little glass window. She handed Kevin a small pink card. "This is a voucher for a free teeth cleaning," she told him. "We're sorry for the inconvenience." "We don't have an appointment," said Kevin. "We just need to talk to him."
"It's an emergency," added Josh.
"There are other dentists," suggested the receptionist, beginning to write them a referral.
"But it's about Elvis!" Teri blurted out.
The receptionist perked up and put down her pen.
"What about Elvis?"
Kevin and Josh turned to Teri. "Yeah, what about Elvis?"
Teri didn't miss a beat. "My retainer," she said.
"Of course I can't be sure, but I've been hearing Elvis singing through my retainer."
The receptionist didn't quite buy it.
Teri pulled the retainer out of her mouth and held it in the receptionist's face. "You wanna check?"
She grimaced and backed away. "Maybe you'd better show Dr. Philpot."
She disappeared into the inner offices, and they snuck in right behind her.
It looked like any normal dental office—several examining rooms with dental couches, X-ray machines, posters about gum disease. The only difference was an office in the back that had been converted into a low-budget television studio.
Hal Hornbeck sat alone in the studio with his feet up, like an emperor, eating chocolates out of a golden bowl.
There was evidence everywhere of Hal's abuse of the glasses—food that must have appeared right before Frankie Philpot's eyes now littered the ground. Philpot was not in sight; he was probably on the phone with someone bigger and more important than himself. This thing was about to blow sky-high, if Kevin didn't do some heavy damage control . . . but he couldn't do that until he got the glasses away from Hal.
"Well, if it isn't the goon patrol," said Hal, not even bothering to stand up. "I knew you'd get here sooner or later."
"I want my glasses now!" said Kevin.
"Extremely Full Nelson!" said Hal, and instantly Kevin felt his neck pressed forward and his feet lifted from the ground, although no one was there. Kevin couldn't talk—could barely breathe. How dare someone use his own glasses against him!
"It's too late," said Hal. "Philpot's already putting me on this week's show."
"You moron! You can't show the glasses on TV," insisted Teri. "Then everybody will want to take them away!"
Hal gave her an ear-to-ear smirk. "Not if they don't know it's the glasses. Right now Philpot thinks I'm the one with the power, and you'd better not tell him different!"
Just then, Frankie Philpot, dentist of the supernatural, burst into the room, fumbling with his Handycam. His eyes and hair were wild, as if he had just won the lottery. In his excitement it took him a few moments to notice there were new people in the room.
"Are these your friends?" Frankie asked Hal. '"Are they . . . like you?"
"No," answered Hal, "they're mere humans."
"Don't listen to him," began Josh. "He's—"
"Josh," said Hal, "you shouldn't talk with a frog in your throat."
Josh suddenly began to gag and cough. Teri opened her mouth to speak, but when Hal turned to look at her, she shut it again, for fear of what he might do.
Frankie Philpot didn't care about the kids in the corner. He anxiously raised the Handycam, ready to record the magic of Hal Hornbeck.
"I've had this power for as long as I can remember," Hal began,
Kids watched his show every week, hoping beyond hope that something mystical would actually happen, but nothing ever did.
This week's show, however, promised to be very interesting.
Kevin, Teri, and Josh arrived at the small office building where Franklin J. Philpot, D.D.S., had his offices. The waiting room was empty when they arrived.
"Dr. Philpot has canceled all his afternoon appointments," the receptionist explained through her little glass window. She handed Kevin a small pink card. "This is a voucher for a free teeth cleaning," she told him. "We're sorry for the inconvenience." "We don't have an appointment," said Kevin. "We just need to talk to him."
"It's an emergency," added Josh.
"There are other dentists," suggested the receptionist, beginning to write them a referral.
"But it's about Elvis!" Teri blurted out.
The receptionist perked up and put down her pen.
"What about Elvis?"
Kevin and Josh turned to Teri. "Yeah, what about Elvis?"
Teri didn't miss a beat. "My retainer," she said.
"Of course I can't be sure, but I've been hearing Elvis singing through my retainer."
The receptionist didn't quite buy it.
Teri pulled the retainer out of her mouth and held it in the receptionist's face. "You wanna check?"
She grimaced and backed away. "Maybe you'd better show Dr. Philpot."
She disappeared into the inner offices, and they snuck in right behind her.
It looked like any normal dental office—several examining rooms with dental couches, X-ray machines, posters about gum disease. The only difference was an office in the back that had been converted into a low-budget television studio.
Hal Hornbeck sat alone in the studio with his feet up, like an emperor, eating chocolates out of a golden bowl.
There was evidence everywhere of Hal's abuse of the glasses—food that must have appeared right before Frankie Philpot's eyes now littered the ground. Philpot was not in sight; he was probably on the phone with someone bigger and more important than himself. This thing was about to blow sky-high, if Kevin didn't do some heavy damage control . . . but he couldn't do that until he got the glasses away from Hal.
"Well, if it isn't the goon patrol," said Hal, not even bothering to stand up. "I knew you'd get here sooner or later."
"I want my glasses now!" said Kevin.
"Extremely Full Nelson!" said Hal, and instantly Kevin felt his neck pressed forward and his feet lifted from the ground, although no one was there. Kevin couldn't talk—could barely breathe. How dare someone use his own glasses against him!
"It's too late," said Hal. "Philpot's already putting me on this week's show."
"You moron! You can't show the glasses on TV," insisted Teri. "Then everybody will want to take them away!"
Hal gave her an ear-to-ear smirk. "Not if they don't know it's the glasses. Right now Philpot thinks I'm the one with the power, and you'd better not tell him different!"
Just then, Frankie Philpot, dentist of the supernatural, burst into the room, fumbling with his Handycam. His eyes and hair were wild, as if he had just won the lottery. In his excitement it took him a few moments to notice there were new people in the room.
"Are these your friends?" Frankie asked Hal. '"Are they . . . like you?"
"No," answered Hal, "they're mere humans."
"Don't listen to him," began Josh. "He's—"
"Josh," said Hal, "you shouldn't talk with a frog in your throat."
Josh suddenly began to gag and cough. Teri opened her mouth to speak, but when Hal turned to look at her, she shut it again, for fear of what he might do.
Frankie Philpot didn't care about the kids in the corner. He anxiously raised the Handycam, ready to record the magic of Hal Hornbeck.
"I've had this power for as long as I can remember," Hal began,
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