"Simon!" called Theodore. "My... my toothbrush stopped working."

Simon walked over to his gullible brother. He sighed: "Theodore, your toothbrush is FINE."

"Nuh-uh! It's not working anymore, and look: it's flashing with a red light!"

Simon facepalmed himself. "It's flashing because you need to charge it."

"Ohhhhh. How?"

"Just get the plug- you know what? Give it here. I'LL do it."

And as Simon reached for Theodore's lime-green electric toothbrush, Alvin had a problem of his own on the other side of the Chipmunks' bedroom.

"Simon! My video game's broken again!"

Simon trudged over to the three Chipmunk-sized miniature desks, where he found Alvin fumbling with the wires and controller.

"Ugh!" he grumbled. "AGAIN?! Are you joking, Alvin? I've told you a bunch of times already: if it's not working, turn the game off and back on again."

"But-but... but I'll lose my progress! I'm already ahead of Kevin, Warren and Cheesy. There's no way I'm letting them beat me now!"

"There's no other way, Alvin. If you want your stupid little game to work again, just DO it."

Simon leaned over Alvin, and outstretched his arm, reaching for the red 'off' button. Alvin swatted his hand off, bringing his 'precious' video game close to his chest.

"Turn it OFF, Alvin," Simon hissed through kissed teeth.

"In your dreams, Seville."

"Turn. It. OFF!"

"Never!"

"If you want your game to live..." began Simon, emphasising the word 'live' with air quotes, "you've got to turn it off. Else you've got a useless controller that won't function."

Alvin kicked the chair in dismay, wailing at the very thought of losing his tremendous high score.

"My score!" he cried, trying to force out any sympathy he could from his oblivious brothers. "Why, why?!" He slammed his head on the table, banging his fist on the table multiple times in anger... and agony. "My precious game! My beautiful high score! DON'T LEAVE ME!"

"Have, uh, have you finished crying?" Simon tapped his foot on the floor impatiently, crossing his arms. "'Cause we've got a sleepover to go to... on TIME, hopefully... I promised Jeanette I wouldn't be late -"

"Simon, I really need to brush my teeth!" Theodore moaned from the other side. "Oh, I can feel my teeth rotting already!"

"For crying out loud, Theo-"

"Hurry, Simon! They're starting to brown!"

"...dore. It WON'T charge in time for the sleepover. Just LEAVE it. I'm sure the Chipettes would have a spare one you could use at their place. Besides, Theodore: teeth don't rot that easily, you KNOW that!"

"Simon!" came Alvin's croaky voice. "Isn't there ANY other way? Do I HAVE to shut it down?" He sniffled between each word.

"YES, Alvin. How many times do I have to say it? You've GOT to just -"

Theodore felt every tooth encrusted on his gum line. "I dunno, Simon... oh, I think they're starting to get a little soft! Can teeth melt?"

"Can you HEAR ME? Am I speaking GERMAN? Do you two understand what I'M SAYING - and HAVE BEEN saying - for the past half HOUR?"

"We have bigger problems to deal with, Theo! Like my video game!"

"Nuh-uh! Healthy teeth are -"

"... not as important as my score."

"Could you stop going on about your score, please?"

"If YOU stop going on about your teeth... PLEASE!"

Simon just stood there, watching Alvin and Theodore exchange comments about each other's 'crises'. More like trifles.

"Am I the only one who actually cares about going to the sleepover?" he thought to himself.