A.N: So this is some weird shit you stumbled across, I'm not going to lie to you. This was kind of the brainchild of too much caffeine and not enough sleep. Unfortunately this happens to me a lot so I'm assuming that these oneshots will likely turn into a series. Read at Risk. Reviews are nice.

Take One.



"It definitely sounds like someone's abusing a dog across the street."




"It's freaking me out! Do I go over there?"


"I really don't want to, but what the fuck, should I call the police?"


"Should I spy to make sure that I don't make an ass out of myself incase it's not happening?"


"When I call the police, I mean."

"No. I mean, when do you plan on doing this?"

"I dunno, should I get some weird secret agent gear or something?"

"I dunno, what do you think?"

"I dunno, I'm asking you!"

"I dunno!"

"Well, if I do that I have to go to Wal-Mart or something because I don't have weird secret agent gear."

"Yeah, you should probably do that, I think?"

"What should I pick up?"

"Camouflage, probably."

"It's the middle of winter. I think that ship sailed."

"Still. It seems appropriate."

"Alright, camouflage. Do you think that war paint football players put on themselves would be smart too?"

"I think so. But they look like idiots."

"It intimidates their opponents, though."

"Because their opponents are idiots."

"Well, it must work a little bit, otherwise why would they bother?"

"Because they always secretly wanted to be pretty and wear makeup."

"Understandable, I guess. Football seems like a very testosterone-filled sport, I doubt any of them are really secure with themselves."

"That's why they all have to prove their macho physique makes them alpha males."

"So should I get the war paint?"

"You would look like an idiot."

"Football players wear it."

"Football players look like idiots."

"Well the other team gets scared."

"Because the other team consists of idiots."

"Well anybody abusing a dog would be an idiot so I'm getting the war paint!"

"Are you secure?"

"Completely. What about a gun?"

"What about a gun?"

"Well, should I get one?"

"Do you know how to use a gun?"

"No, I'm scared."

"So don't get a gun."

"What about for intimidation?"

"Football war paint doesn't sufficiently cover that?"

"No, you never know the I.Q. level. This dog is squealing pretty loudly, I would have figured by now the thing would have fended the attacker off, but he must be doing some pretty strategic shit for it to go on this long."

"Well why don't you skip the Wal-Mart trip?"

"Because this sounds like it's going to go on for a while, I think if I get going now I can be back in time to save the dog."

"So fine, get going now."

"What should I do about the gun?"

"Squirt gun."

"Or those toy guns that look like real guns?"

"Get both."

"Sounds good. So I got camouflage, squirt gun, fake real gun, football war paint. Helmet?"


"Okay, I'll get a helmet too."

"Bring your cell phone because you don't want to waste time coming back inside to call the police."

"Yeah, I don't want to waste time!"

"Okay, so go now and then come back and tell me how it goes."

"Wait, wait, wait!"


"Should I tell someone where I'm going?"

"You should probably inform the parentals."

"About the Wal-Mart trip or Mission Save Old Yeller?"

"Why Old Yeller?"

"Because the thing is yelling! God, keep up."

"The abuser is yelling or the dog is yelling?"

"The dog."

"I think it's more of a yelp."

"Fine, yelping! What the fuck, you can't hear it!"

"Still, I imagine it would be a yelp."

"Old Yelper doesn't sound as good."

"Too fucking bad."

"It really is. Want to know what's worse? Abusing dogs."


"Should I tell someone else?"

"Who else would you tell, your goldfish?"

"That died two years ago."

"Did you abuse it too?"

"I don't think I fed it properly."


"So should I tell the police?"

"I thought you were going to tell the police after you made sure that it was a dog being abused."

"Should I get them ready or something, though?"

"I really don't know what to do in this situation."

"You're no help."

"Neither are you, you're wasting time."

"I am not wasting time, I am carefully planning."

"Old Yelper would view it as wasting time."

"Old Yeller thanks me for my careful consideration."

"Are you going to Wal-Mart or not?"

"Fine, shut up."


"So I get to Wal-Mart, right?"


"And I ask if they have any guns."

"And what'd they say?"

"Well, first the lady in the blue vest—"

"I hate those vests."

"I know, you've had something against them ever since you had to work at CVS."

"Yeah vests suck."

"Anyway the lady in the blue vest, whose name was Madison by the way—"

"Was she butch?"

"A little, yeah."

"Madison sounds like a butch name."

"Like a lesbian name?"

"Not all lesbians are butch."

"Yeah, just prison bitches. But that brings me back to my story."

"Did the abusers go to prison?"

"I'm getting there!"

"Alright, don't get ticky."

"Well, then shut the hell up and let me finish!"

"So Madison."

"Right, so Madison looks at me with this really sympathetic look and goes 'You know, sometimes I get sad too.'"

"Haha she thought you were on suicide watch."


"Did you look sad?"

"I was thinking about the dog!"

"So you looked sad."

"Not suicide watch sad!"

"I dunno, I've seen you pout, it's pretty fucking depressing."

"Well, whatever, I tell her that I'm not on suicide watch and of course because I jumped to that conclusion she automatically thought that I was and I was denying it even though it was pretty fucking obvious what she was implying."

"Did she want to maybe pull a Sid and Nancy with you?"

"I didn't think of that."

"Well, she told you that sometimes she got sad too."

"It's a possibility. But anyway, she gives me the card of this hotline—"

"See? Why else would she have the card!?"

"'Cus sometimes she gets sad too."

"I know, because she wanted to pull a Sid and Nancy so you depressed her."

"Shit, she's probably gonna go home and kill herself now cus I didn't want to pull a Sid and Nancy!"

"Sucks to be her."

"Whatever, it's not on my conscience. Anyway, I take the card and I still ask for the gun and she shows me to the play aisle—"

"Why are they encouraging things like guns for kids in the play aisle?"

"Well, where else would play guns be?"

"In the gun aisle."

"Parents wouldn't let their kids go back there."

"Right, that's what I'm saying."

"Right, well if parents didn't let their kids go back there to get the play guns, the kids couldn't purchase the play guns so maybe the play gun guys would go out of business."

"And then they'd just give the kids regular guns to play with."


"What sick person thought up play guns?"

"Probably the same guy who thought up dog abuse."


"So Madison's watching me, all butch and stuff, and I pick out this revolver type gun because I figure that's the most intimidating. Then I ask her for camouflage and of course she didn't know where it was so it took me like 30 minutes to try and find it."

"Did you find it?"

"No, but I got a gorilla suit for a hundred dollars."

"Why the fuck did you have a hundred dollars in your pocket at Wal-Mart?"

"Well, I didn't think it'd be a probable place to get mugged since it's mostly filled with 40 year old moms trying to get their screaming toddlers to shut up while they buy discount priced bags of chips and I didn't know how much everything would cost."

"Very smart of you, then."

"Thanks. So Madison stalks me this entire time and, like, clucks her tongue in disapproval at my choice of suit."

"What the fuck is her issue?"

"It was probably because she was pissy that I didn't want to pull a Sid and Nancy with her."

"Probably. We can't all go out with a bang."

"Anyway, I turn around and I go 'What?' and she's like 'Nothing' in this really snippy tone."

"I hate the snippy tones."

"I know, right? So I'm buying the suit and watching the mole on her chin quiver in disapproval and I look up at the cashier and he's clucking his tongue in disapproval too!"

"Why are they hounding you?!"

"Exactly! So I pay and I'm like 'and I want all the change!' because normally I let them keep it to put towards their crappy minimum wage but this time they were being bitches so I had to take it."

"Yeah, way to stick it to 'em!"

"And so I put the suit on—fucking hot by the way—and drive down to the neighbor's house."

"Why'd you put it on before you got in the car?"

"Because I wouldn't have time to change there cus I was trying to save a dog!"

"Ok sure. Continue."

"So I'm at the neighbor's house and I hear the yelping."

"Ha, so it was yelping."

"Yeah, so I hear the yelping—"

"Was it a different type of yelping than before?"

"Nah, same type of yelping."

"So was it Old Yelper?"

"I guess if there was a dog, it would be Old Yelper, fine."

"What do you mean?"

"Well I bust in there like James fucking Bond status in this hot-ass gorilla suit ready to beat the shit out of them like the most violent Jane Goodall you've ever seen—"

"Beat the shit out of the dog or the abuser?"

"The abuser, what the fuck do you think?"

"Well, so you'd be an abuser then too."

"I'd be James Bond."

"You'd be Jane Goodall."

"Just because I was in a gorilla costume doesn't mean that the whole thing had to be primate-related."

"Doesn't matter, there wasn't a dog?"

"Not really."

"What was the yelping?"

"Well. It turned out that I interrupted them having, like, wild tantric sex all over the place."

"That's something you don't want to see."

"Well, the woman sees me in this gorilla suit charging in with, what looked like, a real gun."


"So she wraps this sheet around herself and her husband runs into the bathroom trying to pry the towel bar out of the wall to come beat me to death—"

"So they were abusive."

"Well with the way she was screaming I'm assuming this guy must be."

"Sure, who wouldn't?"

"Right? So I yell, and it sounds like a war-cry because I had the suit on so it got all muffled and the paint on my face made it all war-cry-esque."

"Well, that would do it."

"So the man isn't having any success with the towel bar holder thingie and the woman is frantically calling the police—"

"Wait, they were calling the police on you?"

"Well, I was in a gorilla suit."

"So call Jane Goodall!"

"That's what I thought too!"

"God, people have no sense."

"I know. What the fuck did they think?"

"You were a really creative pervert?"

"Guess so. So I see her dialing 911 and I'm like 'Well tell them you're noise-polluting too cus I could hear your yelping all the way across the street'."

"Yeah, what's the matter with them?"

"So inconsiderate!"


"So I run out of there like the fucking wind before the guy comes out and the woman is trying to be all intimidating and comes after me with the phone but the thing is a cord phone so she gets stuck."

"What the hell is this 1970?"

"I know, why haven't they upgraded?"

"Probably cus God likes you and didn't want you to be beaten to death by a phone."

"Man, what a way to go!"

"Madison would be jealous."

"So I run and run and run and they don't come after me cus she's trying to hook the phone back up and he's still working on the towel bar—"

"That's determination."

"I know I gotta hand it to him. So I run and I get to the street and ditch the gorilla costume and throw it in the bushes and you know what happens then?"


"A stray dog or some shit and the thing trots around, sniffs the costume then pisses on it."

"That's fucking ironic."

"Well I have to wait til I can cross the street cus you know how I live on Route 7?"

"Yeah, it's a busy road."

"Right and you have to be fucking Moses to get across that thing."

"Yeah, I know."

"So I wait to cross the street and there's some kind of commotion going on inside and my first thought was that I should see if someone got hurt but then I remembered not to care about people or animals ever again."

"Right, lesson well learned."

"Yeah, so I wait and wait until people pity me and walk back across the street taking the long way to throw them off my trail and go to my driveway."

"And what happened then?"

"Well I skinned my knee cus I tripped over a tree branch I didn't tell my parents where I was going so when I get inside all badgered and scraped up and they go 'What happened to you?' and I tell them about being a gorilla."

"What'd they say?"

"They said that was nice."

"Oh, sure."

"I think they're calling the shrink."

"Oh, sure."

"So I learned to be a soulless son of a bitch today."

"I'm glad you were productive."