Bucktooth Benny was hunched over the kitchen table drawing so furiously that he was nearly falling out of his seat. Colored pencils were strewn across the tabletop. Firetruck Red, in dire need of sharpening, was clutched in his fist. Benny had determination splashed across his face. His two front teeth were digging hard into his bottom lip. Just a few more strokes. It was almost perfect...

“What are you doing there, sweetie?” asks Mom.

The pencil slipped.

“Mom!” groaned Benny. “You messed me up!”

Benny showed his mom his masterpiece: NO GIRLS ALLOWED was written in scattered block letters across his sheet of paper.

“Oh, Benny!”

“I’m going to put it up at our treehouse! I’m tired of Sammie trying to play with us.”

“You need to be nicer to your little sister. She just wants to be part of your little group.”

Benny scowled his meanest scowl.

“Little group? We’re professional detectives, Mom!” said Benny as he threw up his hands in exasperation.

“Of course,” grinned Mom. “Don’t forget that the boys are all coming over for a sleepover tonight. Make sure you’re all ready.”

Benny looked down, then leaped off the chair. Stomping his feet as loud as he could, Benny ran off towards his room. Of course, he was all ready for tonight! Extra pillows? Check. Pull-out couch fully pulled out? Check. Clean toothbrush? Che- wait. Where was the toothbrush?

Oh no.

Benny turned over towels, flung open drawers, and even checked the toilet. The toothbrush was nowhere to be found. Benny turned to himself in the mirror. He saw a desperate boy, lost and alone despite being in the safety of his own home. A boy that had lost the Spider-Man fun-grip toothbrush that had been by his side for so long. That toothbrush had trusted him. Something had to be done. This was a job for - DING DONG.

The doorbell tore Benny from his trance. He flew out of the bathroom and collided with his front door at full speed. With all his strength, he pulled the wooden door open and found himself face to face with the Rascal Gang - Skinny Steve, Four-eyes Frankie, Sammy Smalls, and Gerald Castillo. They moved in to give Bucktooth Benny a big ol’ hug but stopped dead in their tracks when they saw his expression.

“What’s wrong Benny?” asked Sammie Smalls.

“Boys,” said Benny. “We’ve got a case.”

Smiles erupted across the faces of the gang. The boys dashed out of the doorway and all hopped on their bikes. Benny turned to face the group.

“This one is a real doozy. We need to find my missing toothbrush and we need to do it fast. My breath is getting stinkier by the minute. She’s a beauty - perfect bristles, a red rubber bottom, and Spider-Man catching Doc Oc on the handle.”

“Maybe it fell out of your backpack on the way to school,” offered Frankie.

“That’s a great idea!” said Skinny Steve.

“Let’s hit the road,” said Gerald Castillo.

The Rascal Gang took off down the street, scanning around them for any signs of the missing toothbrush. They passed house after house with no luck. Finally, they reached the Oldtown Bridge and stopped their bikes. Benny peered over the edge while gripping the rail.

“You don’t think…” said Benny.

“It might have fallen down there,” Frankie pointed to the grassy embankment below them. They could barely see through the thick brush surrounding the river.

A look of determination came across Benny’s face.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

The boys abandoned their bikes and began to scramble down to the river. The closer they got, the thicker the shrubbery around them became. Soon enough, they could barely see in front of them. They scoured the ground for any flash of red that might be the rubbery handle of the toothbrush, but minutes passed and nothing had been found. Just when they were about to give up hope, a shout pierced the muffled grunts of effort.

“Over here, guys!” yelled Gerald Castillo. The boys rushed over to him but Gerald Castillo hadn’t found a toothbrush. Far from it. Instead, he stood over a lifeless body frozen in the throes of death. The soulless man’s face had been sliced from ears to ear and his eyes gouged from their sockets.

“Aw jeez!” said Benny.

The boys bent down to examine the pale carcass. Frankie examined the man’s shirt before touching it with a curious finger.

“He must have spilled some yogurt on himself,” Frankie looked closer, “or milk?”

Skinny Steve walked crouched down next to the man and reached into his pocket.

“Ouch!” Steve pulled his hand back as an empty needle fell from the pocket. “He pricked me!”

“Don’t worry,” said Benny as he pointed to the needle. “He’s a doctor.”

Gerald Castillo examined the putrid remains of what was once the vagrant’s face: “He must have fallen asleep eating a hamburger. I always spill ketchup on myself during the Fourth of July.”

Benny jumped back from the body with a start.

“Wait a minute, boys. This is all wrong. What are we even doing here? This is a mistake. It’s time to close the case of the missing toothbrush once and for all.”

The Rascal Gang was speechless. What could Benny have discovered?

“My mom has an extra toothbrush in her bathroom!”

Cheers erupt from the boys. They scurry up the hill and dash away on their bikes, never stopping until they make it home. Over lemonade and pizza, they laugh about their day of adventure with their new sleepy friend. Another mystery solved by the Rascal Gang!