The Noodle Incident

This is my first submission, I did write 1k words in under 1 hour after choosing one of the five at random. The work is extremely derivative of Calvin and Hobbes, literally telling the story of the unexplained Noodle Incident. Names are changed, but all the homages to Bill Waterson's famous characters are there. Not sure if that would disqualify this, but I really like it, so I am trying anyway.

I did briefly edit, but, as I said, not very experienced.

I stared at the crowd and told the biggest lie of my life.

We never meant for it to be such a big deal, but it was. The “Noodle Incident” will be legendary in our small town for generations. What began as idle curiosity turned into an absolute catastrophe.

I was six years old, and my best friend, Bobs, was not real; he was my stuffed animal, a large, plush Calico kitty. Bobs and I had this idea, and I say it was our idea, not mine, because, well, I guess I still don’t want to accept full responsibility. We thought, since only so many noodles could cook in the pot, a good solution to make noodles for everyone would be to make them in the hot tub.

It was very important for us to make noodles for everyone to show we were responsible, because Bobs wanted to get his driver’s license. I knew I was too young, but surely cat years made Bobs old enough. I wasn’t too sure on the math.

So, Bobs pulled the wagon around front, and I loaded all the noodles we had, spaghetti, ramen, you name it, into the wagon. Everyone we saw, we told them we would have noodles soon. They laughed and smiled, patted me on the head, some saying “Classic Melvin,” as they walked away. Some even gave Bobs a little scratch, which pleased him ever so greatly.

We rolled up to our destination, literally. The local swimming pool was at the bottom of a fun little hill. Bobs clung to me hard as we careened down, but I was an expert wagon-steerer and we crashed gracefully into the softest bush on the block. Pulling the wagon out of the little hedge, we put the boxes that had spilled out back in the wagon and trudged along again.

We wound our way up the wheelchair access ramp, which was a long one here at the local pool. It was tempting to try to ride down a few times, but we stayed focused on our mission. Besides, I knew Bobs was terrified of my wagon-steering; I could still feel where his claws had clung onto me. We entered the swimming pool, the welcome scent of chlorine and distant sounds of people splashing and enjoying themselves were always so welcoming.

Approaching the changing area, someone called out: “Excuse me, little man, where are you going with that wagon?” It was the lady behind the desk. Rats! Our cover was blown. I tried a sneaky trick: lying.

“Sorry ma’am, official government business.”

I tried to continue walking, but no luck. I heard the wheels of her rolly-chair as she pushed back.

“Nice try mister, you can’t go in without a pass.” I realized my lie had cost me, for she now approached me and I could see in her eyes when she noticed the noodles. Raising her eyebrow, she said, “What’s all this for?”

Time for a new lie, I thought. I knew I would have to be careful with my words.

“My mom told me to get noodles, but I didn’t know which ones so I brought them all.” Little did I know, but this lie worked perfectly for reasons I had not even considered. She laughed.

“Oh, silly child, she must have meant pool noodles. Don’t worry, we have plenty here you can use. Let me give you a wrist band, just have your mother come pay later.”

We were home-free! Almost. First, we had to navigate the change rooms, and then we had to get by the lifeguard.

The change room wasn’t too difficult; in fact, it gave me the opportunity to put on my disguise. I had it tucked away somewhere very safe, just in case. I took off my swim shorts, and then the tighty-whities underneath, placing the latter on my head like weird mask, before putting my swimmers back on. I could now enter the pool, not as myself, but as my alter-ego, Hero-Boy!

Tugging the wagon along behind me, Bobs and I entered the pool. On retrospect, maybe if Bobs had an alter-ego, we could have escaped without issue. As it was, we did, as you probably guessed, end up totally busted.

The lifeguard was a lanky teenager, but even though he looked skinny, I knew he was too strong to escape if he wanted to stop me. I had another plan: another lie. Really, it was an extension of a previous lie, no harm in that, right?

“Excuse me!” I shouted at the lifeguard from right beside him. He looked down at me, startled. “Can you go find my mom, I brought the wrong noodles.”

He looked at my wagon, and, laughing, went off to find my mom. Sucker! She wasn’t even at the pool that day. I waited until he had gone to the far, opposite side of the pool from the hot tub, then I approached and set our plan in action.

My first plan had been to have Bobs jump in the water and scare everyone out, but he refused to get wet. Cats! The backup plan would have to do. There were only two people in the hot tub. I sat on the edge right near one of them, and let out a long, contented sigh. “Pee,” I stated simply. Both people quietly got out without a word. I hadn’t even peed a drop! I couldn’t contaminate my cooking pot.

With the humans out of the cooking pot, I now turned up the jets. Everyone knows the bubblier the water, the better it cooks! With the pot ready, I began to open and dump all the different packages of noodles into the hot tub. By the time anyone noticed what I was doing, it was far too late. Noodles were in the filters, coming out of the jets until those all clogged up. The hot tub was shut down for weeks. And all I can remember is standing there as people gathered, and I stood there staring at the crowd, and I told the biggest lie of my life.

“It was an accident!”