Far, far away—so far that even the fastest rocket would take a hundred bedtimes to get there—there was a galaxy made of cotton candy clouds and lollipop planets. In the coziest corner of this galaxy, on a planet that spun like a top, lived a little boy named Jacob. His hair was as wild as a tumbleweed, and his pajamas were always slightly crooked, no matter how many times he tried to button them.

Every night, as the stars hummed a lullaby—*twinkle-twinkle-zizzle-zazzle*—Jacob would snuggle into his bed, which was shaped like a giant marshmallow. But instead of sweet dreams, his mind would fill with grumbly, grumpy shadows that went *BOO!* and *HISS!* like a cat stepping on a Lego. His toes would curl, his blanket would turn into a puddle of spaghetti, and the smell of burnt toast (even though no one had made toast!) would fill his nose.

One evening, as Jacob lay there, his knees knocking like castanets, a tiny *plink!* sound echoed near his window. He sat up, his heart going *thumpity-thump*, and saw a speck of light no bigger than a pea. It wobbled, then—*POP!*—it turned into a creature made of glitter and giggles. It had three eyes (all blinking at different times), a tail that curled like a question mark, and it smelled like warm vanilla cookies fresh from the oven.

"I’m Zizzle," the creature said, its voice like a kazoo. "I’m the Dream Fixer from the Planet of Pillows! I heard your dreams are as wobbly as jelly on a trampoline." Zizzle’s fur was as soft as a cloud’s belly, and when Jacob touched it, his fingers sank in with a *squish*.

Jacob’s eyes widened. "Can you *really* fix my dreams?" he asked, his voice squeaky like a mouse in a squeaky toy store.

Zizzle grinned, showing teeth that sparkled like sugar crystals. "Oh, absolutely! But we’ll need to catch some Dreamy Star Dust first. It’s the only thing that can make your dreams as sweet as a bowl of rainbow sprinkles!" Before Jacob could ask where to find it, Zizzle had already zoomed out the window—*VROOM!*—leaving a trail of glitter that smelled like bubblegum.

Jacob scrambled after him, his slippers flapping like pancakes on a griddle. Outside, the night was alive with sounds: the *crunch-crunch* of space pebbles underfoot, the *whoosh* of a comet passing by, and the distant *giggle-giggle* of a moonbeam tickling a star. The air smelled like freshly baked cinnamon rolls, and Jacob’s nose twitched with excitement.

They reached the Edge of the Galaxy—a place where the sky was as bouncy as a trampoline. Zizzle pointed to a swirling cloud of pink and gold. "That’s the Dreamy Star Dust! But be careful—it’s guarded by the Grumble Grump, a creature who *hates* happy dreams!"

Jacob gulped. The Grumble Grump was a blobby shadow with eyes like glowing coals and a growl that sounded like a garbage truck eating a tuba. *GRRRRUMBLE-GRUMP!* it roared, shaking the ground so hard that Jacob’s teeth chattered like maracas.

Zizzle whispered, "We’ll have to be sneaky!" But Jacob, in his haste, tripped over his own shoelaces—*TRIP!*—and landed right in front of the Grumble Grump. *SPLAT!* His face smooshed into something squishy and cold, like a bowl of jelly left in the fridge too long.

The Grumble Grump loomed over him, its breath smelling like old socks and pickles. "Who dares disturb my nap?" it grumbled. Jacob’s heart pounded like a drum, but then he remembered his mom’s words: *"Courage isn’t about not being scared—it’s about being scared and doing it anyway!"*

So Jacob took a deep breath (even though the Grumble Grump’s breath made his eyes water) and said, "I—I just want to make my dreams happy again. Please?"

The Grumble Grump blinked. Then it blinked again. A long silence stretched out, broken only by the *drip-drip* of a leaky star. Finally, the Grumble Grump sighed, its shadow shrinking like a deflating balloon. "Fine," it muttered. "But only because you asked nicely. And because I *hate* pickles." It reached into its belly and pulled out a handful of Dreamy Star Dust, which sparkled like a thousand fireflies.

Zizzle cheered—*YAY!*—and Jacob’s whole body felt as light as a feather. They raced back to his room, where Zizzle sprinkled the star dust over Jacob’s bed. *POOF!* The room filled with the smell of strawberries and sunshine, and the shadows in Jacob’s mind turned into fluffy, giggling clouds.

That night, Jacob dreamed of riding a rainbow unicorn, eating a mountain of ice cream, and even teaching the Grumble Grump how to dance the *silly-shoe shuffle*. When he woke up, his pajamas were still crooked, but his heart was as warm as a hug from a teddy bear.

And from that night on, whenever the grumbly shadows tried to sneak into his dreams, Jacob would take a deep breath, remember the Dreamy Star Dust, and whisper, "Not today, shadows!" And with a *poof* and a giggle, they’d disappear—just like that.