Life has been getting better for Houndson Doggington, or so he thinks. He met a new friend, a kid named Fredo. They ran into each other at the park one day, and Doggington asked the boy for a hit of his cigarette. According to a hypothetical analytical piece on his life, Fredo represents teenage rebelliousness, along with child obesity in America. But yeah, great kid! Well, at least Dogginton thinks so. Dogtor Biscuit, his therapist, has a different feeling towards the young man.
Houndson, you can’t be hanging around with this kid, he’s a bad influence. I mean, smoking, eating, smoking, eating, what’s wrong with you?
Well, what can I say. He threw a tennis ball for me one time before, and I knew we had something special. He always gives me some of his hot dog, too. By the way, hot dogs are delicious. I always sort of thought I shouldn’t eat them, because of the name, but he told me they’re made of beef and cancerous chemicals. And the smoking? I’m not an addict, I can stop whenever I want.
Oh yeah? Shake out your corpulence. Let’s have a look. Well well well. A lighter and a pack of cigarettes, hidden in your fat folds.
C’mon, man! You know I can’t light them, I don’t have fingers. By the way, can you do me a favor?
No way, I’m not gonna light your smoke. And I’m taking your stash and your lighter. This ends here.
But what about Fredo? He’s been such a good friend to me. I can’t just leave him behind. It wouldn’t be right, after all he’s done for me. I mean, he bought me one of those spiky collars that look really ghetto. Can I keep that, at least?
I’m taking the collar too. You’re not a killer, Houndson. There’s so much more to life than cigarettes, hot dogs and spiky collars. Open your eyes, can’t you see that the world isn’t all black and white?
Actually, no. I can’t see colors. But fine, I’ll stop if you really want. I’ll have to find another park, though. Hey, can I use your front yar…
While you’re at it, you might want to bring this Fredo kid in for a session. He could use some help.
I’ll think about it.