My name is Bitefighter. I am a 10 lb. Terrier Extraordinaire, an 83rd level intellect, and Kent Wayne’s canine companion. I have written advanced equations that will enable humanity to develop a zero-point engine, I’ve fought off vast armies of murderous Insectoids, and I’ve broken the light-speed barrier in my Dumpster-turned starfighter (or the Bitemobile, as it has come to be called).
Goofus Roofus, our neighborhood’s resident Labrador and Greeter of Mail Envoys, gallops up to me while panting a mile a minute. He’s accompanied by the noble Pit Bull known as Indiana Bones, along with a feisty little Scottie known as Cheese Whiz.
“Long days and pleasant nights, Greeter of Mail Envoys! What causes you to sprint through our suburban dale as if you were being chased by the evil forces of Veterinarian?”
“It’s much worse than that, Milord,” Goofus gasps.
My brow wrinkles in concern. “Cats? Chihuahuas?” I bare my furry little fangs. “By biscuit and chew-toy, if those parasitic vermin have been stirring up trouble I”ll—”
He shakes his giant dome. “Nay, Lord Bitefighter. ’Tis something far more villainous.”
“What in the leg-hump are you talking about?”
“No time to waste!” he cries. “Come with me!”
And though I’m in the company of the finest canine warriors north of Golden Gate Park, my heart lurches in my chest.
What could be worse than cats and chihuahuas???
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER:
We’ve assembled behind a Toyota Prius at 890 Manchego Street, so we can observe the domicile to our front whilst avoiding detection. So far we’ve seen nothing, and I’m beginning to get a little irritated.
“Can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”
Indiana Bones shakes his head. “We wouldn’t do it justice, Bitefighter. There are things that cannot be expressed through the spoken word.”
“If you say so,” I grumble. “But if something doesn’t happen soon, then I’m going to—”
“Look!” Goofus hisses. “There!”
Our eyes snap onto a window where Kaelee Morehouse is lifting a tiny dog into the air. I recognize him as a stalwart Russell-mix named Ham Hock.
“What devilry is this?” I murmur.
Suddenly, a quartet of shadows darken the ground. We look back over our shoulders and lock eyes with the most terrifying creatures in all of existence:
“So CUTE!” one of them squeals. “DOGGY DOGGY DOGGY!”
“Flee!” I scream to my comrades. “Rally at the fire hydrant on the corner of Clement and Pine! Raise the alarum! Notify every dog in the vicinity that—”
A pair of manicured hands grabs me by the torso and hug me tight. I bark my fucking ass off, but to no avail; they’ve sprung their trap, and despite my years of training and unmatchable mind, they’ve got me dead to rights. Goofus and Bones are both large enough to wriggle free of their grasp, and they tear down the street, rowfing up a storm. Cheese Whiz feints left, right, then tries to squirt under one of their legs but she bends swiftly down and snatches him up.
“ARROOOOOOO!!!!” He writhes and squirms, but he’s just a scottie—he’s no match for their giant, 80 lb. bodies.
“Trollops! Slatterns!” I twist and buck, but they hold me tight against their chests. One of them starts scratching me behind the ears…oh no! My weak spot! My body goes limp and my eyelids droop halfway shut. My tongue slides across my lips in involuntary licks.
My mind burns with unchecked horror. Where are they taking us? What hellish fate awaits Bitefighter and his loyal friend Cheese Whiz?
We find out soon enough. They whisk us into a bedroom while chanting the fiendish war cry “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” composed by the harlot known as Taylor Swift. Ham Hock is there, but he’s nearly unrecognizable; they’ve put him in a tiny sweater, and snarled his hair with handfuls of bows.
“Ham Hock?” I whisper. “What have they done to you, old friend?”
He doesn’t respond; he simply continues staring straight ahead, his catatonic eyes wide and unblinking.
Cheese Whiz bursts into tears. I’m tempted to follow suit, but I realize that our only chance of getting out of here lies in my paws; I have to keep my cool and concoct an escape from this unconscionable prison.
Ah ha! One of them has an eReader! I strain my tiny yet mighty body and squirt out of my captor’s hands. She grunts in surprise as I run over to the device and open it with my snout. This will only work if—
Yes! It’s loaded with Echo! I click open the epic science fiction story, activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
Kent Wayne’s giant stupid face appears in the bedroom window. He bangs angrily on the glass and yells, “Hey! What the hell are you doing to my dog??? Get your filthy bedazzled nails off him!”
Their eyes open wide and they cover their mouths with their hands, blubbering out “ohmagawd”s along with a rapid-fire series of frantic apologies. Then they open the window and hand me to Kent. He puts me down and demands they free Ham Hock and Cheese Whiz as well. They readily obey, still trying to make excuses for being low-down dog-nappers.
Ham Hock starts blinking, slowly coming back from the dark mental lands that every dog goes to when they’re forced to wear a sweater or a bow. Cheese Whiz can’t stop crying.
As for me, I vow revenge. NO ONE traumatizes my friend with a sweater and gets away with it! Goddamn teenyboppers!
Are you a noble ruler of the four-legged realm? Have yous suffered an ambush from a gang of soulless brutes? Never fear! Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here: Vol. 1 on Kindle. Vol. 2 on Kindle here: Vol.2 on Kindle Vol. 3 on Kindle here: Vol. 3 on Kindle Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here: Combined Edition I’m starting a podcast: Logical Idiots! If you want to check out the trailer, see it here: Logical Idiots Trailer and help two complete morons out by subscribing, liking, and commenting! Also, my buddy Jumar Balacy has made a supercool microsite at kentwaynebrain.com! Go check out his computer-based wizardry 🙂 🙂 😀
Hold on! I just got approved to be an Amazon affiliate! If you’re going to buy ANY product from Amazon, and you’d like to support my efforts for absolutely free, then simply click on one of the Echo links I’ve provided—they’ll send you to Echo’s Amazon page—and THEN buy whatever product you wish. Amazon gives me a small referral fee each time this happens! In this manner you can support my books, musings, upcoming podcast, zany ads, or my adventures along the noble path known as The Way of The Man Child WITHOUT spending any more money than you were already going to! Should you do this, I vow to send you a silent blessing, causing your genitals to adopt the optimum size, shape, smell, and death-ray attachment of choice that paralyzes your enemies with fear and envy! Entire worlds will bow before your nether parts! 😲💪 😜
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