A Boy and His Dog

This is based on a true story. Some names have been changed for the sake of privacy. Also, the word shit in this story will always be replaced by the word burgers.

"Hey, Chris, when people leave or enter your house through the back door, they should probably shut it really tight and make sure it's shut properly, right?" I, Carter Brown, asked in front of all of my friends really clearly.

"Yes, Carter. That's actually exactly what you're supposed to do, because otherwise my dog might get out and that sure would be bad." Replied Chris.

Everyone in the room except Kyle agreed that this was the best way to exit or enter Chris' back door. I sat and talked to my friends for a while and then it was time to leave at about 7pm, because Chris was really tired and hated everyone. "Get the fuck out of here, everyone. I gotta sleep," Chris yelled.

"But Chris, it's only 6pm." Said Eric.

"I don't give a fuck. I hate you all and I'm really tired and I don't care that this is gonna ruin everyone's night," Chris screamed, flailing his arms all around his body like a tornado and spinning and spitting and being angry.

It was 5pm and everyone was leaving Chris' house. They were all told to go out the back door and to be quiet and, most importantly, to shut the door very tightly. Normally Chris' back door is really tight, but when Kyle Smith left -- he was the last one out after all -- he just left it wide open.

I left through the front door, because Chris' dad said he'd lock it behind me, so that's what I done. Then Kyle came out front and saw Tim and got into Tim's car and was ready to go home. Then, out from behind Chris' house this really dark figure started bolting. I knew instantly that it was Chris' dog, Nasty the Fuck Gobbler.

Nasty bolted past me with this sick bandana wrapped around his neck. I froze with amazement as he flew up into a neighbors yard and was gone. Then I ran after him, but he was too quick, so I ran over to Tim's car. I peeked in and asked Kyle, "Did you shut the back door all the way?"

"One-hundred percent yes, no doubt in my mind." Kyle said.

"But you were the last one out," I told him.

"I did not leave the back door open. It wasn't me," He insisted. "Tim, drive away! I don't want to help Carter and Chris catch that dog even though it's actually all my fault!!!"

So, they drove off. I decided to phone Chris and let him know. Chris came out outside fully prepared; he had no shoes or socks on. We chased around and stuff and eventually Nasty ran under a neighbors porch.

Apparently, there was another creature under the same porch whose name was Cringle the Slap Koogler; he was a raccoon. Cringle and Nasty started fighting really aggressively and were flailing and whipping each other all over everywhere under this porch. The porch was blocked off except for one tiny spot that Nasty managed to fit through.

While Nasty and Cringle were battling, blood was spilling out onto the concrete walkway that Chris and I were standing on. Hair and teeth flew out and rattled on the cement. Hair rattled on the cement.

"Holy fuck, Chris!" I cried, "Cringle is slap-koogling Nasty!"

But the sound of slapping and koogling stopped and eventually there came the sound of fuck-gobbling. Lightning started shooting out form under the porch. Then it started raining.

"What do we do?" I asked.

"Nothing we can do," Chris said.

So, Chris decided to run home and get some proper footwear. Then he came back, and I told him we need a flashlight. So, he went and got that too. Then he came back. But we needed something else if we were gonna stop this battle, because Nasty and Cringle were about to get serious.

"What's been going on while I've been gone?" Chris asked.

"Nasty was gobbling the fuck out of Cringle just a moment ago, but now they're just staring at each other."

Cringle pulled out a stick of dynamite and blew up the porch and the house, so it was basically just a big crater and Nasty and Cringle were at the bottom. Then Cringle whistled for his pals and an army of sleazy, rabies-infested raccoons came charging out of a really large nearby dumpster. They stopped to eat all the garbage and kick over as many trash cans as they could while on their way.

But Nasty the Fuck Gobbler called in all the dogs. So, about two or three dogs.

Cringle whipped out his monster smoochster and slapped Nasty across the face with it. It was like a wet towel and kind of dragged across his face really slowly and oozily. But Nasty pulled out his own king wiener and ninja-slammed it down on Cringle's head.

Cringle grabbed Nasty's dick and started koogling it real good. So, Nasty grabbed Cringle's smoochy big-boy and started gobbling. Then the other raccoons and dogs start firing their lasers at each other and killing one another. Then Nasty called down a fireball from the sky while Cringle was still koogling at a good pace.

One of the stray, nasty, blind raccoons yelled to Cringle, "You gotta koogle faster!"

Cringle started koogling Nasty's chunk-flopster faster than anyone thought possible. It created a big shield around everyone and blocked the fireball.

Chris was flipping burgers at this point.

Then Cringle started getting sexy. He started shaking his hips like a stripper and spun in a circle waving his admittedly really nice ass at Nasty the Fuck Gobbler.

Then Kyle Smith, along with Tim, pulled up again. He got out really frantically and ran up to Chris and myself. "Guys!" He yelled.

"What, Kyle, did you realize you fucked up really badly?" Chris asked all mad and angry and full of rage.

"No, but I think I left some of my weed in your house. I NEED to go get it."

Chris grabbed a couple sharp blades of grass and cut Kyle two ribbons. Kyle was disappointed that he didn't get his weed, and ribbons weren't a very good replacement. He left anyway because he didn't want to help catch Nasty.

Cringle was grinding on Nasty's crust-scooper.

"Stop that!" Chris yelled. Chris had diarrhea really badly and he knew how to stop these guys from fighting. All the other raccoons and dogs had died because of the lasers. But the raccoons were all only wounded when they got shot and managed to run to a bunch of other houses in town and knock over their trash cans and tear open their garbage bags and drag them all over the place. And before the dogs died they barked for 5 hours straight and really loudly.

Cringle was koogling Nasty's crazy-goggles (his cock) at this moment, but the next thing that happened solved everything.

Chris pulled down his pants and made it rain burgers.