Chapter 12

chapter twelve Neon is on him in a flash, growling, talons pinning the monster to the ground. Neon's mouth is half-open, and pink-yellow saliva is dripping onto the creature's face. "Whoa!" I cry. "Neon, stop! We don't attack strangers!" "We HUG strangers!" Globlet says. I groan. "No, Globlet! Not that. DEFINITELY not that. No attacking, no hugging!" Neon sniffs the creature, then glances over at me—like he's asking if he can eat the thing. "That's a hard no, Neon," I say. Neon reluctantly retreats, allowing the monster to compose himself. The creature stands, brushes himself off, and I finally get to see him—really see him—for the first time. He

vaguely resembles an oversized owl on his way to a beginner's magic class. Smarty Pant eyes carrying the contents of a small garage sale on his back goggles thicker than my grandma's reading classes. Unintentionally fashionable shawl. Suddenly, this oversized-owl dude breaks into a huge smile. "Oh-ho!" he exclaims, pointing a finger at me. "I know exactly what you are!"

"Confused?" I say. "Please! Remain still while I fetch my publications!" The owl-type monster dives back into the port-a-potty. I hear crashing and banging, like a bunch of pots and pans are having a wresting match. When he re-emerges, his goggles are on and he's balancing a huge stack of books. Neon apparently isn't amused by any of this— because he jogs off, sniffing and exploring. "I know it's in one of these..." says the owl dude, pushing the books forward, then lifting himself out of the port-a-potty. He riffles through the books, then stops and buries his beak in one. "Of course! I know from my expertise of this dimension that you are surely a... parakeet and a microwave, two earth-bound creatures known for their closely bonded relationship." "Nope. Human."

"And I'm Globlet. I'm not a microwave. Anymore." "Of course!" the owl barks. "That's what I said!" "You said parakeet and micro—" "No, you misheard. See, I don't want to brag," he says, in the tone of someone who is definitely about to brag, "but I am something of a human EXPERT. However, you are actually the first human I've met in the flesh!" "Ya don't say..." I manage. I might be hangry because I'm feeling extra impatient. "Ooh!" he exclaims, suddenly very excited. "Can we do the human thing?" I blink twice. "You knowww," he says. "The one with the hands!" I guess he means handshake? The only non-human I ever met who shook hands was Mr. Peppers, and that's only because we spent like seven months training him. And even

then you had to give him a bacon-flavored biscuit as a reward. I stick out my hand, then pause. "You wash your hands after using your... uh, home, right?" Too late— HELLO, HUMAN FINGERS. I AM JOHNNY. STEVE, WHAT ARE YOUR NAMES? "Okaaaay, that's enough of that!" I say, yanking my hand away. "And I'm sorry, did you say your name was Johnny Steve?"

The owl-type monster—Johnny Steve— nods enthusiastically. "I named myself so that I would fit in with any humans I encounter. I chose a name from your giant yellow books of telephone numbers!" "Aww man, I wanna name myself!" Globlet whines. "From now on, call me PATTYCAKE HAMBURGER JONES!" Johnny Steve bows graciously. "PLEASED TO MEET YOU, PATTYCAKE HAM—" "NOPE! NOPE! Shutting that down!" I say. "Globlet, you're Globlet. And sure—why not— you're Johnny Steve. I'm June. And this ferocious weirdo is Neon." Neon is busy poking his snout around Johnny Steve's port-a-potty. Glancing back, Johnny Steve explains. "You see, being a human expert," he says, "I chose to make my home in the place humans love most... THE TOILET. Did you know humans LOVE toilets? Even more than flowers, pizza, or the internet!"