See this dog? We pranked him!
He was just walking along and minding his own business on a nice sunny day. He pooped on a lawn or two and saw the dog catcher running after him. It was Ice-T on the new Law And Order: Dog Catcher Unit. He swooped him up in his net and took him to jail and started rapping.
The dog named Rex had no idea what he was in for. We (in)conveniently put his paw prints on a murder weapon and hilarity ensues.
Yes, that’s right. It turns out I have a dead body and you don’t want to know how I got it. Just picture the scene – me screaming, “Noooooooo!!!” as my dad runs down to see the dog with the knife in his hand and licking his own balls. My dad cleans up the crime scene and we call the cops on the dog.
When they arrive, I casually say, “Look officer, I’m really sorry. This dog stole my other dog but it turns out he’s dead!”
The police are like, “Are you kidding?” They leave, figuring there must be some truth to what I said. They talk about a sting operation and we comply.
Stupid dog. Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time. Or in the case of this poor pooch, five years at my place.
Four years after his release he is now living with a friend named Spike. For those of you who do not know, Spike has been drinking human blood for the past twenty years. The little bastard thinks he’s a vampire. You could imagine how all the neighbors were amused when Spike took over a boarded-up Victorian house.
I let him keep his freedom except during daylight hours. After one too many nights watching daytime soaps I’m not sure he still remembers how to drive, much less navigate through the streets of New York City. But he did learn an important lesson. STAY OFF THE FUCKING COUCH ASSHOLE!
Spike has adapted well. Besides doing things his own way, his lack of any sort of conscience gives him an amazing immunity to my every evil plot.
He isn’t a devil worshiper. He doesn’t even care about God. In fact he’s a really annoying Wiccan. Like he talks about it all the time. I don’t need to hear about the fire spirits another god damn time, I swear to god! Every goddamned week he goes on about it.
Rex had lifted a lot of weights on the inside and even joined a gang. Let’s just say he was not pleased to find out about the prank. As soon as we got home that day, I quickly loaded his ass into the back of the van and sent him away to hang with Spike.
Spike has access to a pool and woods. We both have plenty of weapons. All I would ask of Rex is that he pays his back rent and keeps this story away from the press. If word got out I framed a dog for murder that would look terrible on my resume!
But alas, this kind of situation is not without consequences.
Et tu, Spike?
A few months ago I came home to find Rex sitting with a big, guilty grin on his face. Well, I mean his smile looked guilty but I think it was just a side effect of eating something that didn’t agree with him. When I asked what he was smiling about he told me about Spike. Spike had invited him over to play and oh yeah, I suppose he was in town again. Spike had gotten himself into the drug racket and Rex had enough of it. He wasn’t about to play games anymore and walked out on the prick. Even though the jerk had promised never to return, I couldn’t stand by and watch him kill another person. I convinced Spike to take a walk and left them alone for the afternoon.
After he had spoken with his friend, Rex went straight to my office. Apparently, Spike hadn’t given up trying to rekindle their friendship and attempted to gain entry through our front door. Rex did not take kindly to this and bashed his skull in the door frame. Naturally, when he fell down, he started acting wounded. It made me mad because of course he ruined the door and was able to force it open. His stupid lawyer is suing me for damages and I tell you that I hate dogs now.