“Puppy!” the 600 pound creature declared as it chased the dog.
“Nope! Nope! Nope! Get your Cheeto stained fingers away from me. No no! The ones covered in Fried chicken grease isn’t any better.” The fully sapient Corgi told the lumbering biped.
“Puppy!” The maybe human says in response.
“No! Stop! Cease! Do you speak the Queens English!” The dog replies
The dog continues at a slow trot staying well out of the lumbering beasts reach. Finally sighting an elderly man sitting on his porch he realizes he may have found a rescuer.
“Good Sir! Please call the authorities! I require assistance!”
“Oh, that may not be wise. You’re an uncollared dog and the thing chasing you is technically human. You’ll likely get thrown in the pound where it can get you easier.”
“Puppy!” the beast replies to the interchange.
“Ah. I’m left to my final resort then. Ahem.” The Corgi sits and face the beast before taking in a deep breath.
“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPE!!!!” The tiny dog screeches.
Unperturbed the lumbering beast closed the distance. “Puppy!”
“Ah. I knew my end would come someday. I had even hoped it would be from extreme obesity. Not like this though.”
The Dog accepting it’s fate sits still and waits for the disgusting fingers of the grotesque beast.
“Puppy.” Was all the monster said as it reached down to pet the dog. It’s fingers never made contact with fur. Unknown by the Monster. Corgi’s were bred to be so short that they could herd cattle. The distinct advantage of their short stature was so that when a Cow kicked out it would pass over the dogs head. This feature saves our hero this day.
“Aha!” The dog says as the beasts hoof passes overhead.
“(Strained Grunting)” Is the only reply the monster has.
The old man pipes up. “You’re not out of the woods yet. Look at that critter. It’s going to tip itself over trying to pet you.”
Looking up the Dog can see he’s right. “Well what could I do about that?”
“I don’t know. Looking at it, you’d think it would have gotten tired and given up following you by now. Maybe it’s scared of something?”
“This creature has been following me for three hours. It stopped for a snack hourly and still managed to follow me. It’s gotten more disgusting every time it’s stopped to consume something.” Says the dog.
“Heh. Looks like it might be afraid of anything unprocessed plant. I got a smashed Watermelon in my front garden you can try to distract it with.”
“Why do you keep smashed watermelons around?”
“It was whole before I shot the kid trying to steal it. The kid dropped it and it broke.”
“How have you not been arrested!? Wait forget that. Can you shoot this horrifying beast?” The dog yells.
“The shotgun’s loaded with rock salt. It won’t kill anything, just sting for a few days.”
The dog finding itself in a position where it just wants a few minutes of freedom from the lumbering lard wriggles its way under the fence and scoops half a watermelon up with its head. Turning around with his watermelon helm the monster finally notices that the puppy it was trying to pet is gone.
“Lookout! It’s spotted you!” The old man yells right before the beast notices the walking vegetation coming it’s way.
The beast recoils in horror as the watermelon approaches it. The short Sapient Dog sensing the fear through his Fruit impaired senses charges the beast with his traditional battle cry.
“RAAAAAAAAPE!!!”
The beast lunges back further than would be expected and trips over the pickup. Rolling over the truck doing severe body damage on it’s way it comes to a rest in the center of the road.
“AW COME ON!” The old man yells.
“Sorry about the truck!” The dog quickly responds.
“I’m not worried about the truck. I can fix that, and the insurance will pay me to do it. It’s going to take the county a week to get around to moving that lard ass out of the middle of the road! Ah well. It’ll be hilarious when kids come speeding down the street. You can keep the melon.”
“Thank you, good Sir!” The dog responds.
“Heh. You sort of look like a little knight. You got a name kid?...Dog!?”
“Just Corgi, Sir.”
“Heh. Corgi Sir sounds like an odd name. I might just call you Sir Corgi instead.”
With new armor and name. The Sapient Canine went on his way. He didn’t ride off into the Sunset or anything. He went to the nearest unwatched trashcan and got into a fight with racoons over leftover fast food. That’s a Tale for another time.
