Emily Jenkins - Toy Dance Party

“StingRay is scared of basements,” says Lumphy. “Do you think you could sing her a song, Frank? Because then she wouldn’t be scared, and you’re such a good singer, it would really add to the party.”

“Of course,” booms Frank. “And I know there are some towels here who won’t want to miss the chance to back me up. Towels, wake up! We’re gonna sing!”

A pile of folded purple towels, sitting on top of the dryer, awake from the slumber in which they spend the largest part of every day.

“What’s going on?” asks one.

“Frank wants us to sing,” explains another.

“Frank is all the time singing,” complains a third. “Hey. Is that the ball we see sometimes in the bathroom?”

“Yeah,” answers the first. “The Girl’s ball.”

“I thought I recognized her.”

“Just freestyle it with me, okay?” begs Frank. “Sing backup.”

“We’re always your backup,” mutters the second towel. “You never ask if any of us wants to sing lead, do you?”

But Frank isn’t listening. Instead, his big beautiful voice is belting out:

“StingRay, wing-ray,

We all stand up and

SING-ray!

StingRay, fling-ray,

What a special

Thing-ray!

Sing it out loud!

Sing it out,

Sting it out!

Singy, Stingy,

Wingy, Thingy,

Stingy, sting,

StingRAY!”

The towels are humming and oooh oooh oohing, and when Frank sings it all over again, some of them do harmonies. It is very impressive.

During the repeat, StingRay comes out from underneath the dad-pajamas and claps her flippers together. Lumphy is dancing, wagging his tail stump and shaking his buffalo body. Plastic is bouncing.

By the third time through, Frank’s lights are blinking and he’s tilting slightly back and forth. StingRay is tossing her tail around and jumping on the clothes in the laundry basket, while Plastic has added an extra spin to her rhythmic bounce.

“Dance party! Dance party!” Plastic screams.

And it is.

They follow “The StingRay Song” with “Greasy Little Buffalo.” Then a number called “Love Train,” which Frank and the towels know from the radio. StingRay wraps her flippers around Plastic and they roll together in circles on the dusty basement floor. Frank bangs his lid up and down and the towels shimmy their corners as much as towelly possible. Then StingRay grabs Lumphy’s paw and they wiggle and kick and swish their backsides while Plastic bounces so high she hits the basement ceiling.

Finally, everyone collapses in exhaustion; even Plastic.

The music over, they sit around happily chatting and eating slices of the imaginary chocolate peanut-butter mocha vanilla banana cake, with frosting roses for all. StingRay puts her flipper around Plastic and says, “You see? There’s nothing to be frightened of in the basement. It may be dark and dusty, but it’s perfectly safe.”

“I know,” says Plastic.

“I mean, it might be scary for the mice,” says StingRay, “because they’re small and the washer and dryer are so big, but it’s not scary for larger toys like you and me.”

Oh no.

Suddenly, Plastic remembers.

The mice! Bonkers, Millie, Brownie, and Rocky. “We left them upstairs with the shark,” she says, in a small voice.

“What?”

“We left Sheep up there, too.”

“Huh?”

“With the shark.”

StingRay is aghast. “Oh, they’re going to be so mad.”

“If they’re …” Plastic can’t quite say what she’s thinking.

“If they’re what?”

“Um. If they’re still alive.”

“It’s eating them right now!” StingRay cries. “It thinks they’re garbage!

We left them there to get eaten

while we had a dance party!

I can’t believe it.

We’re horrible friends.

Horrible!

I hate myself,” moans StingRay. “Lumphy, stop talking to the towels. We have to go! The shark is eating Sheep and the mice!”

Lumphy takes in the situation and feels like he might throw up, even though he doesn’t even eat. “What should we do?” he asks.

“Oh, the poor mice!” continues StingRay, ignoring his question. “Shoved into a shark stomach

with bits of cardboard

and sour-milk smell;

chewed into tiny bits of mouse mixed with

green beans

and things with mold on them …

Ooooh, that’s it!” StingRay waves her flipper, inspired. “Garbage. We need garbage.”

“How come?” Plastic wants to know.

“It’s a garbage-eating shark, right?”

“Right.”

“So if we stuff it full of garbage, at least it won’t be able to eat anyone else, ” explains StingRay. “Come on!”

. . . . .

There is no time to be secretive. Lumphy, StingRay, and Plastic dash upstairs to the kitchen and open the cabinet under the sink. Lumphy pulls with his teeth and StingRay yanks with her flippers and together they grab the plastic garbage bag and drag it out of its bin. Grunting and huffing, they lug it up the stairs while Plastic bounces at top speed into Honey’s bedroom.

There she finds the shark on one corner of the rug, right next to Sheep and Bonkers. It looks as if it’s about to eat them! And where are the other mice? Oh dear, oh dearie, it is too late!

Plastic takes a good hard bounce on the floor and launches herself at the shark, hitting it hard on its back. Ooof! “Take that, you mouse-eater!” she yells.

Still waiting for Lumphy and StingRay to get up the stairs with the garbage, she retreats briefly, then bounces the shark again.

“Ouch,” the shark says as Plastic readies herself for a third bounce. “Would you back off for a minute, roundie?”

“You big mean mouse-eater!” cries Plastic, and she bounces it again, ooof!—this time knocking the shark off its tummy and onto its side.

“Hey!” it yells. “Mind your manners!”

Sheep and Bonkers rush to safety underneath Highlander, just as StingRay and Lumphy struggle in with the bag of trash.

“Sit on it, Lumphy!” cries StingRay. “Hold it down!”

Lumphy (very bravely) launches himself onto the body of the weakened rubber shark, pinning it to the floor with his forefeet and holding it down with his bottom while StingRay grabs bits of garbage from the bag and shoves them into the shark’s hollow insides.

Spluurk! In goes an orange peel.

Splot! A used tissue.

Spluurk! Another orange peel.

The shark is struggling and tossing its head, snapping its jaws, but Plastic gives it a hard bounce on the nose and StingRay keeps shoveling in the garbage.

A wet coffee filter.

Moldy blueberries.

A rubber band.

A half-eaten pancake.

Old tofu.

Soggy lettuce.

An unwanted carrot.

All of it goes into the hollow shark until it can’t hold any more and its jaws are wedged open.

“There!” cries StingRay. “Now you can’t eat any more mice!”

“Ngggaagaarrrice,” says the shark with its mouth full.

“The bedroom is safe!” StingRay calls out to Sheep and whatever mice have survived. “You can come out now. If we work together we can all tie the shark down with some yarn before Honey gets home from her playdate.”

Sheep rolls out slowly from beneath Highlander.

She is followed by Bonkers. And Millie.

And Brownie.

And Rocky.

They are all there. All four mice.

“Oh. Um. Hi,” says StingRay.

“I thought you were eaten,” says Plastic.

“We saved you!” StingRay announces, standing on her tail and waving her dirty flippers around. “We didn’t run away, like maybe it seemed like we did; we didn’t run away or go to a dance party. Oh, ha!” She chuckles to herself. “Like we would have a dance party at a time like this, heh heh.”