Eddy’s Stolen Time-Traveling Tricycle

“Wait! Come back with my tricycle!” Eddy shouted, sprinting down the sidewalk after a glowing green blur.

The tricycle zipped through the air like it had wings—because, well, it kind of did. It had rocket boosters, holographic handlebars, and a time-dial that spun faster than a merry-go-round on caffeine. And now, it was gone—stolen by something that looked like a talking marshmallow with antenna ears and giggly feet.

“Bloop-bloop!” the creature squealed, pedaling backward through time as if it were nothing more than a Sunday joyride.

Eddy skidded to a stop and pulled out his pocket communicator. “Anna! Lily X! Someone—anyone! The Hairy stole my tricycle again!”

From the communicator crackled Anna’s voice, calm but urgent. “Again? That’s the third time this month, Eddy!”

“I know,” Eddy groaned, brushing grass off his knees. “But this time he’s going into history. He’s got the time-dial set to 1895!”

Lily X burst onto the scene, her hover-skates humming beneath her. “Then we’re not letting him rewrite yesterday’s adventures again. Last time he turned your birthday party into a dinosaur rodeo.”

Within minutes, the team was assembled: Bell tinkering with a time-stabilizer, Emma sketching possible time zones on a chalkboard, and Alexis double-checking the energy levels in their backup time-suitcases.

“We’ve got one shot at this,” said Hyuga, adjusting his laser goggles. “If the Hairy messes with the past too much, it could erase us from existence.”

They piled into the emergency time capsule—a repurposed ice cream truck painted silver—and fired up the engine. With a thunderous WHOOOSH , they launched into the time stream, spinning through sparkles of forgotten moments and echoes of laughter long past.

They landed with a bump in 1895 New York City. Gas lamps flickered above cobblestone streets, and horses clomped past wearing top hats (don’t ask why).

“There he is!” cried Lily N, pointing at the Hairy zipping around on Eddy’s tricycle, dodging carriages and laughing maniacally.

“Bloop-bloop! History is mine!” the alien giggled, pressing buttons on the time-dial.

Eddy ran after him, shouting, “You can’t just change history because you think it’s boring!”

“But history is boring!” the Hairy replied, yanking the handlebars and vanishing into another era.

The team followed, bouncing through time like popcorn in a popper. They chased the Hairy to ancient Egypt, where he tried to replace pharaohs with dancing jellyfish; then to the future, where he attempted to teach robots how to sneeze confetti.

Each time, the kids corrected the timeline, fixing jellyfish pyramids and recalibrating robot noses. But the Hairy was always one bounce ahead.

Finally, in the year 3021, they cornered him inside a floating library shaped like a giant pencil.

“You don’t understand,” the Hairy whined, puffing up like an angry marshmallow. “I’m all alone. I just wanted some fun friends!”

Eddy softened. “We can be your friends. You don’t have to steal my tricycle.”

The Hairy blinked his big watery eyes. “Really?”

“Really,” said Anna. “But only if you promise not to mess with time.”

The Hairy sighed. “Okay… but only if I get to keep the sparkly pedals.”

They struck a deal.

Back in their own time, the Hairy joined the group for hot cocoa and stories under the stars. He even helped fix the tricycle, adding a new feature: Friendship Mode.

And from then on, every adventure included a little bouncy alien who knew when to pedal responsibly—and when to just enjoy the ride.