Editor's Disclaimer: Bob and The Price Is Right belong to themselves. Lord only knows what they're doing in the Big Guy universe....

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"Dwaaynnnee Hunter, come on down! You're the next contestant on The Price Is Right ."

Bright lights flashed as music blared out of speakers above a roaring crowd. The game show host's smile seemed to be plastered to his face.

Dwayne made his way down to the the row of other contestants and got ready to play. He grabbed his buzzer as if it were the firing switch on a F-14.

Jo, Garth, Mack, and Dr. Slate cheered wildly for him. He looked up and smiled, happy to have his friends backing him up.

"All right," Bob said, "let's bring out our first item for bid." Once again, music began to play. "It's an Oyster blender, complete with five different attachments. All you have to do is guess the correct price without going over."

As soon as the host was done talking, the crowd erupted into hysterical shouting. Dwayne, who had no idea how much the stupid blender cost, looked up to his friends for a guess. Jo was shouting "One hundred -- my mom has one just like that." Garth and Jo were heartly agreeing with her, since they had no idea either. Dr. Slate, one the other hand was shouting, "Ninety -- I just bought one."

Dwayne, who trusted Ericka's memory more than Jo's mom, rung in for just under ninety. All the other contestants answered as well, soon after him.

A hush fell over the crowd as Bob announced the retail price.

"$89.99, Dwayne, come on down."

Jo whooped and hollered, even though her guess had been wrong. "Yeah, Dwayne!"

Dwayne walked over to where Bob was standing with his tiny microphone.

"All right, Dwayne, how are you?

"I'm great." Dwayne smiled enthusiastically, hoping the prize behind the door was a car.

"Well, Dwayne, how would you like to win a brand new grill?" The prize door opened to reveal a silvery outdoor grill framed by two gorgeous models in matching sequined dresses.

The announcer piped up. "This stylish and sleek grill by Grill King has an automated temperature sensor, self-cleaning design, and state of the art timer system, all with three different grilling levels for the perfect steak, chicken, or hot dog. The Grill Master, by Grill King."

"Huh," Dwayne said. What on earth was he gonna do with a grill?

"Okay, all you have to do, Dwayne, is match the numbers of the price of the grill on this board."

Dwayne was still staring at the grill. Why couldn't it have been a car?

"Dwayne, are you with us?"

Dwayne heard someone yell, "Go, Dwayne!" He was sure it was Jo.

"Um, yes, sure am."

Bob grinned from ear to ear. "What's the first number, Dwayne?"

Once again the crowd began to shout. Dwayne didn't really want the grill, so he randomly guessed. "Um, One?" He tried to imagine the grill as a silvery Trans-Am.

"Let's see if you're right. Yes, its one."

Dwayne guessed again. "Nine."

"You're right again."

"Six?"

"Right again. Only one more, Dwayne, and you win that grill!"

Dwayne rolled his eyes. "How about a 2?"

"That's it. You won!!!"

"Yeaaahhh!" Dwayne said with forced enthusiasim.

The crowd erupted into applause and cheers. Jo and Garth, Dwayne noticed, were laughing hysterically.

Dwayne wondered what he would do with a Grill King grill on an aircraft carrier.

Several weeks later, after several attempts to offload the grill on his relatives, Dwayne decided that the grill wasn't so bad. It was, in fact, pretty nice. Dwayne sat, with his feet propped up on a lawn chair on the flight deck of the Dark Horse. With him were Jo, Garth, Mack, Slate, and Rusty. They were all clustered around the space age-looking grill. Jo was busy happily eating some grilled chicken, while Rusty was munching on a hot dog.

"So, Rusty," Dwayne said. "Do you like hot dogs?"

"I dunno, no taste receptors." Rusty shrugged and ravenously devoured the remainder of his hot dog.

"Geez," Garth said, "you'd think the kid never eats."

Slate gave him a wry smile. "Garth, he doesn't eat."

"Well," Jo said, "At least we know who the real Grill King is." She pointed her fork towards Dwayne. "All hail the king. May he live long and prosper. And may flaming death meet his enemies."

Rusty laughed. "Flaming Death, that's funny!"

Jo gave Rusty her best serious face. "Not so funny to that cow you just ate."

"What?" Rusty said. "Cow?"

"Never mind, Rusty," Dwayne said. "We'll talk about what hot dogs are made of at a later time."

Jo smirked. "The Grill King hath spoken."

Dwayne smiled as he took a bite of hamburger. "You better believe it."

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Okay, so this story makes no sense, not even to me. But, hey, I'm tired. Also, forgive the spelling errors. I know there are lots.