Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

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xhunterko
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

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-Edited, see above-
Last edited by xhunterko on Wed Dec 08, 2010 11:11 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

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Eh hem, tragically sorry bout the length. I couldn't avoid it, I tend to get really into into whatever it is I'm doing. So, there you go. Have fun.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

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Great story. Very well written.All in all, it was an enjoyable read.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by valerio »

excellent job!
Not much related to the contest, but...really, really enjoyable read :D
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by Barkeron »

This fic is enjoyable to read. Great job there. xhunter.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by xhunterko »

But still, Rick said whatever, so, there you go. Made a correction to make things more coherent. But, I basically took the idea of the title and ran with it. Heh, glad you liked it.

Edit: Felt like I was taking too much of the thread. SO I tucked everything into a tidy pastebin and posted a link on my first post. It contains some final editing. But not a whole lot has changed.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by Sinder »

II.

You can't do this anymore.

As King sat down upon Fox's porch, that thought kept repeating over and over in his mind. The concrete steps were cold, especially in the winter, and the sensation chilled him even through his fur, although it was dulled by the same inner voice that continued to speak to him.

This can't go on. It has to stop.

King drew in a long breath and let it out in a slow sigh, a puff of heated air visibly wafting from his nostrils and drifting away on the December breeze. He was a bad dog, and not just in the behavioral sense; in his old life, he had never done a particularly good job of being human, but he was just plain rotten at being a canine. A dry, humorless chuckle escaped his lips; maybe he would have had better luck if Pete had turned him into something a little lower on the evolutionary ladder, like a snail, or maybe an amoeba.

It wasn't that he hadn't tried. It had been a whole year since his transformation, and in that time, he'd made every effort to cope with the... change as best he could. Some aspects of his new life were easier to tolerate than others; for example, the fact that he was effectively naked all the time had led him to all but completely lose his sense of modesty, and he had finally stopped reflexively covering himself when in the presence of others. In fact, once he had gotten used to it, he found the lack of clothing to be strangely liberating. He no longer had to deal with the hassle of dressing himself or doing any laundry, and found that his fur coat allowed him to feel generally comfortable year-round, except when it was very hot; any human going out in today's weather would have had to bundle up in a thick jacket or perhaps a second layer of clothing, but King himself wore nothing heavier than the dark gray scarf around his neck.

There were also other advantages, however slight, to his new form. His senses of smell and hearing were both keener than they had ever been while he was a man. He found that he relished certain scents, and even certain sounds; he had gained a newfound appreciation of music, and would often spend hours in the privacy of the Milton study, simply playing old songs that he had heard a hundred times before, but that he had never really listened to, his ears detecting new chords and tones and instruments that had escaped his human self. He could hear footsteps approaching from a considerable distance, and could clearly make out a conversation taking place in the next room or across the street. For a brief, fleeting time, he had even managed to convince himself that being a dog wouldn't be so bad, after all; there was a certain simplicity to a pet's life that was not without its own appeal.

And then there were the other matters, the problems that caused him to snap back to reality and very nearly drove him mad. He was not just a dog, but an exceptionally short one. His small stature meant that he was forced to fetch a stool or chair to stand upon in order to reach an object of any height, and made it impossible to operate any kind of complex machinery; he could barely open the refrigerator, let alone ride a bicycle or drive a car. His ears and nose were actually too sensitive; pleasant odors were heavenly, but unpleasant ones were just as foul, and difficult to escape. Loud, piercing noises became impossible to shut out; the whine of a teakettle or the backfiring of a car caused him unbearable agony. Because he couldn't sweat, he had to pant for breath in order to cool down during hot weather, which always left his mouth dry and his throat sore. He also had fleas.

And above all, there was the fact that he was not a man, but a dog. He was not a person, but property, literally sub-human. He couldn't do human things, or get a human job, or eat human food, or have a human life; it was only by the grace of his wealthy ferret patrons that he was even allowed to sleep in a human bed. But in the end, he couldn't bring himself to do dog things, either. This latest incident with the K-9 cops and their parlor game was the perfect example; there would always be some canine social taboo that he would be at risk of breaking, no matter how carefully he tread. What more could he do? He would never be comfortable with eating dog food or urinating on fire hydrants; the thought of drinking toilet water made him nauseous, and the prospect of actually sniffing another dog's butt was almost enough to make him retch. He was bound to cross some invisible line sooner or later, it was only a matter of time. It was bad enough that he was already terrified of most of the other dogs in the neighborhood, a stranger in a strange land, but he couldn't bear to be a pariah among them, as well... to be completely alone. He wouldn't be able to handle it.

Most troubling, however, was his name. By some sorcery, the gryphon had kept it from him. He couldn't speak it, or even write it down. He spoke it to himself, in his mind, several times a day, as it was the last remnant of his former life, and one he clung to tightly. He was terrified that if he didn't, he might actually forget it; then Joel would be gone forever, and only King--short, flea-bitten, miserable King--would remain.

He grit his teeth together. He would not allow that to happen. If it ever did, then he might as well run out into traffic. He didn't have a long life ahead of him anyway; he would probably die before he turned thirty, provided that he managed to live that long. He had decided long ago that returning to prison would be preferable to his current circumstances. He might have to spend several years behind bars, but at the very least, he would be human again; if he couldn't go back, then perhaps death would be preferable to this cursed, torturous existence.

That was assuming, of course, that he wasn't already dead.

King had considered the possibility more than once. He had never been very religious, but if he was asked to describe what the Devil looked like, it would have been difficult to top the image of Pete, always dressed in that brown suit with that derby hat down over his eyes, wielding his cane as if it were a sword, always smirking down at him and speaking in that condescending, know-it-all tone he used. As for King himself, he certainly felt damned; it was hard to come up with a better concept of eternal torment than being trapped in a body that wasn't his, robbed of his identity, and his humanity, without even having anyone to ask for help.

A sudden gust of winter wind caused King to shiver where he sat. That in itself was oddly reassuring; he was confident that if this was the afterlife, then he would definitely be in a much hotter place than he was right now. He didn't recall anything from Sunday School about being turned into a dog and being forced to eat Canine Cibble, either. If nothing else, he could be fairly certain that he wasn't dead... at least, not yet.

What, then, could he do? He still didn't understand the lesson that Pete was trying to teach him--provided that there was ever a lesson in the first place--and even if he did, he still had no guarantee that the old bird would give him his old body back afterward. In addition, Pete had been barred from this plane of existence by the other players in this warped game of theirs, at least until he found a "proper avatar"--whatever that meant--and there was no indication when, or if he would ever return. King wasn't exactly eager to see him again, but as far as he knew, Pete was the only one who could turn him back to normal; what if he never came back? What would that mean? Would that mean living out the rest of his short life on these stubby little legs? Or would the immortal gryphon return 500 years from now, in another lifetime, long after he had turned to bones and dust?

King bowed his head forward and buried his face within his hands. "Bicycle Repair Man me," he swore under his breath. Under the circumstances, it seemed like the appropriate thing to do.

"Do what?"

The sound of the voice behind him nearly made King leap out of his skin. He turned to see Fox looking down upon him with a puzzled expression, the fuzzy collar of his bomber jacket faintly rustling in the breeze.

"Oh," King said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Sorry, Fox. I was just... talking to myself."

"Don't make a habit of it, or people will think you're crazy," Fox replied. He was smiling, and there was good-natured jest in his tone, but King wasn't laughing. He eased himself down into a seat at the corgi's side. "Are you all right?"

King merely looked at him, for a moment, hoping that the uncertainty he felt wasn't evident upon his face. Fox was both his best friend and his worst enemy, the sole ally and confidant he had in all of Babylon Gardens, and even he didn't know the truth about who King was or what he had done; King was absolutely certain that if he ever found out, the husky would wrap his hands around his scrawny corgi neck and throttle the life out of him. That was ample incentive to keep him from being completely honest. "I'm fine," he lied. "I'm sorry I ruined the game."

"The game was almost over, anyway," Fox said. "The boys are more worried about you. Fido wanted me to come check on you. He didn't have to ask, but still."

King was genuinely surprised by the revelation. "Worried about me?" He had regarded the police dogs with such intense fear and suspicion that he had never imagined they might show any level of concern for him. "Why?"

"Well, they've never heard another dog say anything like that before. To be honest, neither have I. I mean, I knew that you were kind of shy, but I had no idea it was this bad." Fox furrowed his brow. "You mean you've really never...?"

King held his breath; it took all his strength to resist throwing up right there in front of Fox. "No," came his strained reply. He realized, after a moment, that he would need to provide some kind of justification for never having jammed his nose up another dog's backside, and added, "My owner, uh... doesn't let me out much."

"I see," Fox said. His ears were pinned back. When he spoke again, his voice was much lower, almost a whisper. "King... your Dad doesn't... abuse you, does he?"

King winced as Fox referred to Pete as his "Dad"; the crusty old bird was anything but a father figure to him. He also had to bite his tongue to keep himself from making the first reply that came to mind; while he would certainly qualify the ill treatment and mental anguish he had suffered at Pete's hands as "abuse", he knew that wasn't what Fox had in mind. King had seen real animal abuse, the kind inflicted upon his pets by his own parents, and while he was unhappy with his situation, he had yet to suffer like that. "No," he said, softly.

Fox simply nodded. "Okay." The husky leaned back where he was sitting, pressing his hands against the steps, and let out a relieved sigh of breath; King supposed that the question must have been weighing heavily upon his mind. After a long moment, Fox said, "Well then... what do you want to do?"

King curiously cocked his head to one side. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... well, do you want to get some help? Because if so, then that's what we'll do. We'll take things slow, nice and easy. I can take you down to the obedience school and we can play with the pups for a while. We could introduce you to them, and let you get used to being around other dogs. Or, if you like, we can go down to the academy and talk to some of the guys on the force. You don't have to sign up or anything, but it might help you to feel less nervous around them if you got to know them a little better. I'm sure that Fido and the other guys would be on board with it, they don't want any pet in the neighborhood to feel unwelcome. I'm not trying to push you into anything, but..." Fox shrugged his shoulders. "... I'm your friend, right? And I want to help you, if I can."

King could feel a prickling sensation across his entire body as his fur rose to stand on edge. He knew that his feelings toward the police dogs might have been misplaced, but that did nothing to reduce the anxiety he felt toward them; the very thought of being surrounded by cops, on their own turf, whether benevolent or not, was enough to make his heart beat wildly within his chest. He was still convinced that if he did something wrong--betrayed himself through some minor verbal cue or made an errant remark--that they would make the totally logical deduction that he was a criminal man-turned-dog, lock him back in his cell, and throw away the key. "I appreciate the thought, Fox," he said, wearily, a forced smile upon his lips, "but unless you could help me break a curse, then I don't think there's much you could do for me."

"Hmm, wellllll..."

King blinked. "What?"

"I suppose we could try." The husky wore a thoughtful expression, sticking his tongue out and stroking his chin with his fingers. "I mean, I don't know anything about that kind of stuff, personally, but I know a few dogs who might. Maybe we could give it a shot."

King stared at him, blankly. "You're serious."

Fox shrugged again. "Why not? If you really think that your luck is that bad, then what's the harm in trying to change it? I mean, what have you got to lose?"

King was struck dumb by the sheer simplicity of the suggestion. The possibility of actually breaking the spell that had been placed upon him had never occurred to him. During the dream he'd had several months ago, the master of Pete's game, the giant fox creature, had mentioned that if he played the game himself, then he could be rewarded for his efforts. He hadn't given it much thought, at the time--after all, he wasn't some kind of animal deity, or whatever, and obviously wasn't in the same league that they were--but Fox's suggestion suddenly made him realize that he could still play. A year ago, he would have scoffed at the notion of dragons and gryphons and magic in general, but now he knew for a fact that it was all real. If he was able to somehow harness that kind of power for himself, even in some small measure, then there was the chance that he could fight back, or at the very least, wager some chips at the cosmic table. "W-who did you have in mind?" he stammered.

Fox wore that same ponderous expression. "Well, I guess the ideal person to ask for help would be Tarot. I don't know her myself, and I hear that she's kind of an oddball, but she's supposed to be all about that mystic mumbo-jumbo."

King's heart sank. Tarot--or the Spirit Dragon, whichever--had expressed a willingness to help him, but according to the kitsune, she was technically an "enemy player", and although he didn't fully understand exactly what that meant, he didn't like the sound of it. He knew that he didn't want to find out what it was like to be on a dragon's bad side, and he certainly didn't want to make a potential ally into an adversary. Best to hold off on approaching her until he could figure out a safe way of doing it. "Uh, I'd rather not get involved in anything weird, if that's okay with you." It was a flimsy excuse, but it would have to do.

Fox nodded. "It's all right, I understand. Though considering the subject matter, I'm not sure if we'll be able to avoid any weirdness, whether we want to or not. I suppose we could try Joey, although he's kind of strange, too."

King remembered him; the D&D addict. He noted, with bitter irony, that there were certain parallels to be drawn with his own situation, but in this case, he didn't think they would be particularly useful. "I doubt that rolling dice and reading out of a monster manual is really going to help," he said, wryly.

Fox nodded again and sighed. "I see your point," he said. "Well, the only other person I can think of who might be able to help us is Peanut."

King tilted his head. "Peanut," he said. The name was not familiar to him. "Anything wrong with him?"

Fox shook his head. "Nah, he's all right. A little sensitive, maybe, but I guess if I got picked on by Bino as much as he did, I'd probably be a little touchy, too." King saw a strange look cross Fox's face; an expression of regret, or maybe guilt, but he couldn't be sure. "Anyway, he claims to have read every book in the Babylon Gardens library. If he doesn't know anything about that voodoo stuff, then I'd say that nobody else in the neighborhood does, either."

"If Bino doesn't like him, then that's good enough for me," King mused. "Do you know where he lives?"

"Sure." Fox rose to his feet, left the porch, and walked to the edge of the sidewalk, pointing down the street. "The Sandwiches live just around the block there. Why?"

King lifted his eyes to the gray, overcast winter sky. His earlier thoughts repeated in his head as his mind raced with the possibilities of breaking free of Pete's influence, of living a long, normal life, of finally being himself again.

You can't do this anymore.

This can't go on.

It has to stop.

NOW.


Nodding his head once, King hopped off the porch, and strode to the spot where Fox stood.

"Let's go pay him a visit," King said, a smile of newfound determination upon his face. "Like you said... what have I got to lose?"

~

"I must say, you make an interesting proposition, gentlemen."

King didn't think the brown dog was much to look at. Spending a year as a dog had taught him how to recognize certain physical features and elements of canine body language, and as such, he thought himself a rather good judge of character. He could immediately tell, for example, that the brutish bulldog Rex was all brawn and no brains the moment he laid eyes on him, and that Bino was a scheming, spiteful little monster who could more properly be called a weasel than a dog; Fido, on the other hand, was lean and fit, and radiated a natural confidence that made it obvious he was a leader; it was no wonder that he was also a cop.

The dog who now sat across the table from him and Fox was more of a mystery. He bore a strong physical resemblance to Fido, and might easily be mistaken for him at a distance; the glasses he was currently wearing only added to that perception. They even shared a similar scent. However, this dog was slightly shorter, and more lightly built than Fido was. He struck King as being rather plain, with no particular distinguishing characteristics, although the glasses helped to give him an intellectual air... that, and the fact that his nose was currently buried in a book. He had barely bothered to look up from it since King and Fox had entered the house, and he was apparently in no hurry to do so. The only distinctive feature that King had noticed about him was that he had blue eyes, a slightly lighter shade than his own.

"Yes, very interesting indeed," the dog continued, his eyes continuing to scan the words on the pages in front of him. "But I'm afraid I can't help you."

"What?" It was Fox who spoke. "Why not?"

"Because I wouldn't have the slightest idea how to do what you're asking," the dog replied, without looking up. King tilted his head to read the title along the book's spine: World War Z. King hadn't read it, but he supposed that it must have been more interesting than he and Fox were. "I'm an artist, not a wizard."

Fox was nonplussed. "Peanut," he said, "you've read every book in town. You've got more facts and figures in your head than Wikipedia. You must know something about this."

"Book knowledge and practical knowledge are two different things, Fox," Peanut calmly replied, turning a page. "For that matter, Wikipedia isn't exactly a tome of magic spells."

"Humor me," Fox deadpanned.

That was enough to draw Peanut away from his reading; he snapped the book shut with enough force to make King jump. He then peered at Fox over the rims of his glasses, drew them away from his face, and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers, sighing. "Fox," he began, "I want to help you. Really, I do. I just don't know how. Do you guys know exactly what it is that you're getting into, here?"

King and Fox glanced at each other and shrugged.

"Practicing magic is pretty heavy stuff. Tarot has told me several times that it shouldn't be handled by amateurs. If you speak the wrong incantation or draw a circle that isn't perfectly round, you could accidentally turn yourself inside-out." He leaned forward where he sat, emphasizing the point. "I'm not kidding; Tarot has told me stories."

That particular mental image was enough to make King turn green, but Fox was undeterred. "So hasn't she taught you anything?" he asked. "You are her boyfriend, aren't you?"

"Yes, but she's only described some of the rituals to me, she hasn't taught me how to actually perform them. It would be like knowing a bunch of foreign words without actually speaking the language. And besides that, curses are intended to be hard to break in the first place." Peanut withdrew a sheet from a nearby box of Tish, You!, and began to rub at the lenses of his glasses, causing them to squeak between his fingers. "According to Tarot, a curse can usually only be lifted either by the original caster or by satisfying some qualifying condition. You wouldn't happen to know what that is, would you?"

Fox looked at King; the latter merely shook his head.

"In that case, you have to cast a counterspell, and from what Tarot tells me, those things are very hard to make." Peanut set his glasses aside and began counting off on his fingers. "You have to know the the specifics of the original curse, who cast it, what type of curse it was, how long it's supposed to last... all sorts of variables. You also have to perform a ceremony, and that involves preparation. Proper lighting, incense to burn, appropriate clothing... bubble, bubble, toil and trouble, all that jazz. You may need a cauldron to mix your ingredients, and if there's any livestock involved, then you'll definitely need a permit from the city council. I haven't had to paint my living room with pig's blood since Grape and I put on that performance of Doctor Faustus last year, and I'm not eager to do it again, either." Peanut lidded his eyes and muttered, "My parents were not pleased."

King slumped down in his seat, his ears splaying to the sides; he could feel his hopes of being human again slowly slipping through his fingers.

Fox wore a similar disheartened expression. "So that's it, then?" he murmured. "There's nothing you can do?"

Peanut shrugged his shoulders. "Like I said, this is a serious undertaking. Anyway, I'm the wrong dog to ask; you guys really should be talking to a professional. Let me give Tarot a call, I'm sure she'd be happy to come over and--"

"NO!"

The sudden cry of protest startled Fox so badly that he very nearly fell out of his chair. Both he and Peanut turned to regard King with widened eyes; the corgi was standing up in his seat and leaning against the edge of the table, rigidly gripping it with both hands. The look on his face was one of sheer horror; Fox could almost hear his heart racing within his chest.

"No," King repeated, speaking in a voice that was calmer, but no less insistent. "We can't do that."

Peanut tilted his head to one side, his bewilderment clearly written upon his face. "Why not?" he asked.

Fox cleared his throat, lowering his eyes to his lap as he tried to come up with some plausible excuse. "Uh... he's, um... terrified of Pomeranians."

"Oh." The look that crossed Peanut's face was a mixture of confusion, curiosity, and pity, all at the same time. "I'm sorry," he stated, simply. He leaned back where he sat, picked up his discarded book, and began flipping through the pages, trying to find the spot where he had left off. "Well, I'm afraid that settles it. There's no one else in the neighborhood who would be well-versed enough in the mystic arts to do what you're asking. Tarot told me she was training an understudy, but she didn't mention who it was, and even so, this isn't a matter for a novice."

King was crestfallen. He had come to the Sandwich house in good spirits, hoping that he had finally found a door through which he could escape from the stout, furry cage that had imprisoned him for the last year. Peanut's explanation, as thoroughly logical as it was, served only to slam that door in his face. "So there's no hope?" he asked in a small voice.

Peanut shrugged again, but did not look up from his book. "Sorry, King," he said. "It looks like you're out of luck."

King sighed, defeated, and turned to begin his cautious climb down from the chair upon which he stood. "That's the problem," he grumbled.

"What was that?"

King glanced at Peanut. The other dog was looking at him, the same way he had looked at Fox; for whatever reason, King's last comment had caught his attention. "My luck," the corgi continued. "If I didn't have bad luck, I'd have none at all."

Peanut laid his book back down and leaned forward once more, staring intently at King. "Are you telling me," he began, speaking slowly, "that you think you're cursed because you're unlucky?"

King swallowed a sudden lump in his throat, his ears splaying back atop his head; for a moment, he was afraid that he had been caught in a lie, and had somehow betrayed his secret. He was lying, after all; he thought he was cursed because he was, although he had to admit that his luck was pretty lousy. "Y-yeah," he stammered in reply.

At first, Peanut did nothing more than stare at him, blankly, a vacant expression upon his face. Then, slowly--almost imperceptibly--a sly smile began to spread across his lips. He suddenly burst out laughing, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut; a moment later, and he was leaning back so far in his seat that it threatened to topple over, clutching his hands against his belly and literally howling with laughter.

King was not amused; the corgi got the distinct impression that he was being mocked, and although he wasn't sure why, he knew that he didn't enjoy the sensation. He could feel a shameful, uncomfortable warmth spreading across his face. "What's so funny?" he muttered.

Peanut was quick to regain his composure. He righted his chair and lifted a hand to wipe a tear from his eye. "Oh... oh, I'm sorry, it's just..." He paused as a lingering chuckle rippled through him, and then smiled. "... why didn't you say so?"

King was astonished at the sudden transformation. When he and Fox had arrived, Peanut had welcomed them into his home readily enough, but more than anything else, he seemed annoyed that they had interrupted his reading; King could sense the irritation in his words as he'd replied to their questions--which had turned out to be a complete waste of time--probably impatient to get back to his book. Now, in an instant, that veil of hostility had inexplicably melted away, and Peanut was beaming brightly enough to light up the whole room. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that's another matter entirely!" Peanut seemed to possess a newfound energy, and was emphatically gesturing with his hands as he spoke. "Breaking curses and curing bad luck are like apples and oranges, metaphorically speaking, they're completely different! I mean, you could still theoretically be hexed, I guess, but I don't see why anyone would go to the trouble; it'd be an awful waste of magic just to make you stub your toe more often, or something. But lucky charms are a much simpler affair than crafting a counterspell, and we don't have to summon an abomination, or violate any international treaties, or anything!"

"Well, that's good to know." Fox, who had been keeping quiet during the course of this exchange, chose that moment to speak up. "Does that mean you'll help us?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Peanut said, offhandedly. He was already moving, having walked over to a nearby bookcase and begun thumbing through the many volumes there; he removed one, and then another, gathering them into his arms. "I'll need a little time to conduct some research. I know which books I need to consult, but I'm not sure where they are. Do you know that clearing in the woods where the club holds its annual snowball fight?"

"Yeah," Fox replied, "but what about it? The Great Snowball War isn't until next week."

"I know, but that's why we need to use it now. In a week, it will be a total mess." Peanut was back at the table again, flipping through the pages of some of the books he had collected, and hurriedly writing down his findings in a notebook at his side. "Be there in an hour. Bring with you an item that you consider to be lucky. Nothing special, anything will do, just so long as it's small enough to carry. I'll meet you there."

With that, Fox and King left Peanut to his work; he was no longer paying attention to them anyway, wrapped up as he was in the task at hand. King wasn't exactly certain what it was about his predicament that had sparked the Sandwich dog's enthusiasm, but he found it strangely comforting to know that, at the very least, someone dedicated was working on his case. In the meantime, the two of them would make their way back to Fox's house and grab a bite to eat before heading into the forest; King had never taken part in the yearly snowball event, and Fox would have to show him where it was held.

"So, what do you think?" Fox asked as they strode upon the sidewalk. "Did you get what you hoped for?"

King frowned. What he'd hoped for was a way to be human again, although that particular goal appeared to be out of his perpetually short reach, at least for the time being. Still, the idea of improving his luck did sound like it had promise; if nothing else, it might later help him to discover a solution to his more urgent problem. "Not exactly," he admitted, "although I suppose there's no harm in trying."

Fox smiled. "That's the spirit," he said.

They walked together in silence, for a time, before King spoke up. "You said that Peanut was Tarot's boyfriend, right?" At the time, his mind had dimly registered that fact as being important, but he was struggling to remember precisely why.

Fox nodded. "Yeah. They've been going together since last summer, I think. She's a cute one, too. You should've seen the look on Bino's face when he found out; he swore up and down that Peanut was a cat-lover, but--"

"Does he happen to have a cat friend?" King interrupted him. "A purple one?" One he had met at the party back in July? One who had threatened to rend him limb from limb?

"A purple cat? Well, that's gotta be Grape. Yeah, she's his sister. Why do you ask?"

"His sister!?" The way King shouted made Fox turn to regard his friend in alarm; the corgi's head was tipped back, the palm of one of his hands clasped against his face as he groaned. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all..."
Last edited by Sinder on Sat Dec 25, 2010 12:34 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by Two_Twig »

As much as I want to read this, and trust me I do, I don't think I'm going to right now. I'm going to need to put some serious thought into this project if I am to even hope of contending with you, and reading yours might jeopardize the ideas I have going. I'll read it as soon as I'm done with mine.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by copper »

Your story was oddly soothing. The flow was just that natural to me. You sir, are an author. There is another part, right?

I would be greatly surprised if you did not get the runner-up spot at the very least. :lol:

There, how's that for confidence, people?
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by rickgriffin »

I wouldn't worry; skimming Sinder's story, good as it is, looks like it has some tremendous continuity issues. Still!)
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by xhunterko »

As much as I want to read this, and trust me I do, I don't think I'm going to right now. I'm going to need to put some serious thought into this project if I am to even hope of contending with you, and reading yours might jeopardize the ideas I have going. I'll read it as soon as I'm done with mine.
A good idea! As much as I tried, I couldn't help but skim or half-read the other entry's. It was what pushed me to finish mine actually. But still, I won't spoil anything for you. Other then to say *gets bricked*.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by copper »

rickgriffin wrote:I wouldn't worry; skimming Sinder's story, good as it is, looks like it has some tremendous continuity issues. Still!)
If you judge for the sake of the storytelling, I think he outclasses most. I honestly forgot most of the story after I read it. It just melded together into a beautiful story. He's good.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by Sinder »

copper wrote:I honestly forgot most of the story after I read it.
buh
rickgriffin wrote:looks like it has some tremendous continuity issues
Upon a closer reading of All The King's Men, I've found that there are, in fact, a couple of things that actually date the story to last year. However, this interferes with the concept that I came up with, so rather than start over from scratch, I've decided to ignore it.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by Blue Braixen »

copper wrote:
rickgriffin wrote:I wouldn't worry; skimming Sinder's story, good as it is, looks like it has some tremendous continuity issues. Still!)
If you judge for the sake of the storytelling, I think he outclasses most. I honestly forgot most of the story after I read it. It just melded together into a beautiful story. He's good.
This part is what made me not just give up now.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by copper »

Never give up. Never Surrender! I want to read that story, Housedog!

Sinder, that was supposed to be a compliment. I can barely remember my favorite stories. It's just some weird thing about me.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by xhunterko »

*slaps The Housedog around with a very, very, very large tuna*

Stop, selling, yourself, short! Use that as motivation instead to make yourself try and write something better. For the love of fur, don't just give up becuase of one persons opinion! Just, just, just stop putting yourself down and put out your best effort no matter what. Honestly! I read your wip, and you should finish and enter it. Trust me, it'll make you feel better that you did. Sheesh, what is it with you people?

Edit: Is it okay that I've posted it in a pastebin instead? Or should I put it back in the thread?
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by copper »

xhunterko wrote:*slaps The Housedog around with a very, very, very large tuna*

Stop, selling, yourself, short! Use that as motivation instead to make yourself try and write something better. For the love of fur, don't just give up because of one persons opinion! Just, just, just stop putting yourself down and put out your best effort no matter what. Honestly! I read your wip, and you should finish and enter it. Trust me, it'll make you feel better that you did. Sheesh, what is it with you people?
I don't know about other people, but I am down on myself to vent frustration. If I didn't, I don't think I could finish anything. I use the forums as a means of escape from my own insecurities by voicing them.

P.S. How many times have you used for the love of fur in this thread? I love that little phrase! :lol:
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by Blue Braixen »

xhunterko wrote:*slaps The Housedog around with a very, very, very large tuna*

Stop, selling, yourself, short! Use that as motivation instead to make yourself try and write something better. For the love of fur, don't just give up becuase of one persons opinion! Just, just, just stop putting yourself down and put out your best effort no matter what. Honestly! I read your wip, and you should finish and enter it. Trust me, it'll make you feel better that you did. Sheesh, what is it with you people?

Edit: Is it okay that I've posted it in a pastebin instead? Or should I put it back in the thread?
Gah! I typoed...I meant that I'm not giving up...not while I still have a chance. And for the love of fur, stop fishslapping me!
Edit: I fixed the typo.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by xhunterko »

*stops*

Well thank goodness it's just a typo. I was getting worried. I had an air pump ready next. And let's see, it was either 'For the love of G-*' or 'For the love of fur'. I went with fur. And I think either two or three times. Maybe?
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by GameCobra »

I enjoyed reading Sinder's submission so far. i just find in my opinion that the introduction to more characters something that itches me. but hey, that's just me since i'm just a competitor =P

Like to see the rest of it when it's available.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by valerio »

Sinder's story is pure awesome as expected.
Too bad it totally ignores the continuity.
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Re: Contest? Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by Liam »

rickgriffin wrote:Awesome but not canon may be a strong contender for a runner-up
This comment made me think continuity wouldn't be much a thing to worry about.

So no trip to Whitecastle? ;_;
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by Barkeron »

valerio wrote:Sinder's story is pure awesome as expected.
Too bad it totally ignores the continuity.

Yeah. I agree with this.

Sinder, your story was awesome.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by Indagare »

I just came across this contest, so my entry's a little late. I've been trying to read through what others have written and I'm very impressed! Way to go guys!

In any case, here's my own effort. I hope you all enjoy.

2.

Fido cleared his throat, “Kevin, there will be no tackling! And King, like I said earlier, it has to be something you haven’t actually done.”

Almost in disbelief about his luck, King put a hand behind his head, “AH HA HA HA HA! You’re right, because every dog has sniffed someone’s butt, right? AH HA HA HA!” He was trying very hard not to laugh hysterically, but he knew it wasn’t working well based on the questioning looks that Fido, Ralph, and Fox were all giving him. Kevin seemed to not care one way or another as long as he could tackle something.

“Dinner’s ready!” Bill called out, and the stampede of paws towards the kitchen interrupted the awkward moment, and the lure of hypothetically cooked food was too much for even Fox to resist. He did stay with King while Fido, Kevin, and Ralph all took place in line.

“We need to talk,” he said simply, and King could only nod and gulp.

The canines each took their food to the living room, congregating together and talking to one another as they argued amicably over the best Christmas special to put on. King decided that slinking outside to eat would probably be too suspicious, so he instead took a place in a corner as far from any of the police dogs that he could and still be considered in the same building.

Fox found him and sat next to him. King munched on a hamburger and hotdog he’d put ketchup and mustard on. He had been very relieved to see most of the other dogs also used condiments, though Kevin had made the suggestion of playing tackle condiments. The tackling incident when he’d stopped running was starting to take on much more context.

“Well?”

“Your dad’s a good cook?” King couldn’t bring himself to look at Fox. He felt ashamed of the fact that he kept freaking out, but he wasn’t sure how to stop it. Though he remembered his human life, he couldn’t be sure that Pete hadn’t done more to his brain than keeping him from speaking his own name.

Fox gave him a look. It might be something about his new body, but King read volumes in that look. None of it came close to a form of letting him off the hook.

“I really don’t like police dogs,” King started. Maybe the truth would be best. Even jail could not be worse than life with Pete.

“Because you were bullied by some as a pup. Yes, we’ve gone over that. What I don’t get is what you said about sniffing.”

“It was the first thing that came to mind?” King gulped down the last bit of hot dog and began working on his hamburger, very slowly. Maybe if his mouth was constantly full, Fox wouldn’t expect replies.

“You weren’t lying,” it wasn’t a question. Another bit of meat and bread found its way down King’s throat somehow, even though he felt as though it was getting smaller by the minute.

“I-I…” King really wasn’t sure what to say, though a lie seemed the best option. Yes, King, just keep lying to your only friend. THAT’s not going to backfire, a sarcastic voice in his head, which sounded remarkably like the mouse Spo, chided him. He decided to ignore it. Once he was human again Fox would never speak to him again anyway. It was best to have what joy he could. He slumped down and decided to give a version of his history that might satisfy Fox.

“I was raised to be as human as possible before Pete—er—adopted me. If I would sniff, I’d get my nose whapped. If I tried to do anything like a dog, my—er—parents would punish me. I was teased by other pets for wearing way too much human clothing, so I ran away from home. While I was out on the streets, a bunch of police dogs found me and…”

“Oh King,” Fox bent in and gave his friend a hug.

“Er—that actually explains a lot,” the two turned to see Fido and Ralph standing in the doorway. The two had drooping ears and tails. Even Spo was silent for a change.

“Be glad you aren’t a mouse—you’d have been eaten for sure!”

“Not the time, Spo,” Fido chided, then turned his eyes to King. “I’m sorry to hear you had such a bad encounter with canine cops. I wish I’d have known before, Ralph and I would have held the guys back.”

King could see they were really sorry, even their scents came across as being very unhappy. He never knew unhappiness had a smell before. He didn’t like it; it smelled somehow like someone was kicking a puppy. Standing up, King shook himself. The paranoia was still there, whispering in the back of his head, but he was not going to let it rule his life!

“I’m sorry for being so flaky. I know you guys mean well, that you are just regular guys who happen to also be cops, but old fears are hard to shake. It doesn’t help that I never did dog things before. My current owner is doing the opposite—I’ve got nothing but dog food and outdoor bathroom since he’s gotten me. It’s not an easy adjustment to make.”

All three dogs nodded, “I can order the guys to keep their distance, or Fido can, if it would make you feel better.” Ralph offered, wagging his tail slightly.

It would make him feel better, but King was tired of how selfish he was being, “Nah, I think I can handle it as long as you guys give me time to adjust. This is your party, and I don’t want to ruin it just because I’ve had something bad happen to me in the past.”

Now all three dogs were smiling and wagging their tails. ‘Happy dog’ smell was filling the room, and King decided he liked it a lot better than ‘unhappy dog’. He forced his legs, which still felt like furry Jell-O, to move towards the two police dogs and shake their hands. He smiled and wagged the nub of his tail, “So, now that we’re friends, how about we get back to the party?”

“Sure thing, though I ought to warn you that Kevin…” started Fido.

“Likes to tackle. Yeah, I know,” King grinned a bit evilly, “maybe I can teach him a lesson about that!”

The other four looked at one another (though Spo mainly looked at the dogs), and a conspiratorial grin grew on all the faces. There were some things just too good to pass up!

3.

Kevin and the other dogs were all happily eating away and watching the Christmas special Olive, the Other Reindeer. ‘Happy dog’ smell filled the room as Ralph and Fido entered the room.

“Hey guys, after we’re all done in here what do you say to playing outside in the snow? We can make snow-dogs, or snow angel-dogs, or play with snowballs…” started Ralph.

“Or play snow tackle?” asked Kevin eagerly, his ears at attention and tail wagging faster than a speeding bullet.

Fido and Ralph laughed, “Sure, if you want. Why don’t you go first? We’ll be out as soon as we make sure Officer Bill doesn’t need any help cleaning up.”

The other dogs all moaned as Kevin bounded out of the room and into the cold, open air. He loved tackle! He loved it, loved it, loved it—WHOMP!

From out of nowhere something hit Kevin! It took him a moment to realize that he’d been tackled! He got up and looked around, but couldn’t see anyone! “Hey! Who did that?” He turned all around slowly and even started sniffing, but the snow masked scents too well for him to get anything definite.

Cautiously, Kevin started moving forward, keeping his eyes peeled and his ears up. He just started relaxing his guard again when—WHOMP! He was tackled again! “Hey! It’s no fair tackling a dog when he’s not ready!” Kevin complained, looking around again for the source of the tackle. There was a hole in the deep snow, but no other signs of movement. Scanning the top of the snow didn’t help either. There was nothing anywhere—nothing but one snow-dog in the middle of the yard. It was a pretty small snow-dog too.

Walking carefully now, Kevin listened for any sounds, looked for any movement, and sniffed for any smells. On the alert, he thought he caught a glimpse of movement—there! No, it was just the snow-dog. Odd, it looked a bit closer somehow.

Carefully, Kevin watched, waited, and then—WHOMP! “GOTCHA!”

“OOF! Hey!” Kevin looked up to see a small corgi face staring into his, “You’re that new guy—uh—King?”

“Yep, and you’ve just been pounced!” King smiled and wagged his tail. He hadn’t felt this good in a long, long time.

Kevin laughed, “Yeah! You’re a sneaky one!” He rose carefully and took King off him gently, placing the corgi on the ground before brushing the snow off. Looking around, Kevin noticed the corgi snow-dog had vanished. “Hey! That was a neat trick!”

“Thanks! Fox and I discussed if it would work or not.”

Kevin laughed, “I shoulda known Fox woulda been in on this. Fido too?”

King nodded. It was nice to see Kevin wasn’t resentful of the trick, “Still feel like playing tackle?” King asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Kevin nodded, “I like tackle!”

King gave a whistle and Fox, Fido, Ralph and the other dogs all came out to join them in the snow. By decree of Fido and Ralph, King was allowed to choose the games, and he made sure to pick ones that involved plenty of physical activity—much more than King himself had done since he was very young…

An hour of romping later and they all returned inside to Bill’s house to thaw and dry out. The I can’t believe it’s not chocolate! chocolate cocoa tasted even better to King than he remembered regular hot cocoa tasting. It seemed to fill his nose with smells of sheer awesome and so also tasted the same way. Vaguely King wondered if regular cocoa would have tasted this way if his human sense of smell had been as keen as his new canine one was.

An hour after the cocoa had been consumed and their feet had regained some warmth, the police dogs all left to return to their various homes. King was the last to leave, and he was accompanied home by Fox, who had put his bomber jacket back on.

There was an amiable silence between the two as they headed slowly towards King’s house. He might still have to deal with Pete (and still have some lingering paranoia about the police dogs), but King felt good about himself for a change.

King looked to his friend; his ears a bit drooped as he felt embarrassment, “Fox? I wanted to tell you…” the truth, but I need you as a friend too much, “thanks.”

“Huh? Whatever for?”

“Well things have been changing, so to speak, and for a while there I had given up hope. But you reminded me of what it all used to be like when I was younger and happier. And I guess there’s some hope after all.” King looked down towards his feet. They were still icy cold, but there was now a warmth in his heart that more than made up for it.

“Ah, you don’t have to make a blockbuster production of it. You’re a good dog! In fact you should come hang out at the Good Ol’ Dog Club. Everyone’ll love you.” Fox smiled at his strange corgi friend. He wasn’t entirely sure he believed King’s back-story, it didn’t somehow add up, but King was his friend, and that was enough. When he was ready, Fox knew King would tell him the real truth.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt!” replied King, his ears picking up as he smiled. If the rest of the dogs in the neighborhood were like Fox and Fido—or even Kevin—King figured he could handle it. After all, what was the worst that could happen?
Last edited by Indagare on Sat Dec 11, 2010 7:24 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by copper »

Nice addition to the contest. Very lighthearted. I really enjoyed it.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by valerio »

Heh, cute story, simple, liked it a lot!
And yay for you too having the idea to connect it to the original strip! :D
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by Indagare »

copper wrote:Nice addition to the contest. Very lighthearted. I really enjoyed it.
Thanks!
valerio wrote:Heh, cute story, simple, liked it a lot!
And yay for you too having the idea to connect it to the original strip! :D
Thanks! I really liked your story too! I think you did a really good job on it!
You inspired me with that bit! I think linking the stories to the original strip helps with continuity.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by Blue Braixen »

Gah! It's really good! The lightheartedness, the tackle revenge on Kevin...it's just so good!
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by Indagare »

Tha Housedog wrote:Gah! It's really good! The lightheartedness, the tackle revenge on Kevin...it's just so good!
Thanks a lot! I'm glad you liked it!
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by A-coro »

Hm. I expected to go through the forums for a few minutes just to kill some time, but this has really caught my interest. I'll definitely try this out, though if I start on it now, I'll never finish my writing assignments. Thankfully, the deadline's still far enough away that I can still whip something up without having to wait until the last minute.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by valerio »

A-coro wrote:Hm. I expected to go through the forums for a few minutes just to kill some time, but this has really caught my interest. I'll definitely try this out, though if I start on it now, I'll never finish my writing assignments. Thankfully, the deadline's still far enough away that I can still whip something up without having to wait until the last minute.
Yay! And good luck, contestant!
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by Indagare »

A-coro wrote:Hm. I expected to go through the forums for a few minutes just to kill some time, but this has really caught my interest. I'll definitely try this out, though if I start on it now, I'll never finish my writing assignments. Thankfully, the deadline's still far enough away that I can still whip something up without having to wait until the last minute.
Best luck! It will be nice to see another entry.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by copper »

A-coro wrote:Hm. I expected to go through the forums for a few minutes just to kill some time, but this has really caught my interest. I'll definitely try this out, though if I start on it now, I'll never finish my writing assignments. Thankfully, the deadline's still far enough away that I can still whip something up without having to wait until the last minute.
Awesome. Good luck with it. I can't wait to read it. Welcome to the forum, by the way. Thought I'd just say it, even if your stay here is short.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by angelusbr »

One great story after the other. I wish I could participate, but English is my second language, therefore there would be grammar errors I wouldn't be able to detect on my own. Another thing is that the plot I had thought was a little bit...dark. But fanfiction exists for this!
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by FlintTheSquirrel »

I'd bet someone is willing to help correct your grammar errors. ^^
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by angelusbr »

FlintTheSquirrel wrote:I'd bet someone is willing to help correct your grammar errors. ^^
But I can't participate anymore even if someone did that for me. Didn't the entries were until last week?
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by Blue Braixen »

angelusbr wrote:
FlintTheSquirrel wrote:I'd bet someone is willing to help correct your grammar errors. ^^
But I can't participate anymore even if someone did that for me. Didn't the entries were until last week?
No...the deadline is the 24th.
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by angelusbr »

Tha Housedog wrote:
angelusbr wrote:
FlintTheSquirrel wrote:I'd bet someone is willing to help correct your grammar errors. ^^
But I can't participate anymore even if someone did that for me. Didn't the entries were until last week?
No...the deadline is the 24th.
Oh...I guess I must have misread it...
*starts writing*
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by angelusbr »

As I said before, English is my second Language. Here is my entry for this contest:

“I have never…sniffed anyone’s rear end.” King said immediately regretting it as he saw the other dogs’ reaction.

He felt like an alien. Sure the dogs were friendly to him, but his last statement practically shouted: ‘I’m not one of you!’

However, he snapped out of his thoughts when Fox asked: “Are you serious?”

King slowly nodded with his face blushing in shame remembering how the silver furred dog had offered his own rear to King to sniff. What he didn’t know was that Fox was thinking about the exact same thing.

Fox raised an eyebrow and tried to be as gentle as possible when asking: “Didn’t you have any other dog friends before?” He didn’t want to ask anything that might hurt his friend. Fox knew next to nothing about the corgi, but he was sure that King had some serious social problems.

King tried to think of a lie as quick as possible. The other dogs and mouse merely thought that the question just made the corgi hesitate a little.

Then King finally answered: “I-I had dog friends before. My…owner’s son, Jake, had two dogs and one cat. I always tried to play with them when Pete visited them I went along. But both my owner and his son, never liked us acting as we should be…” then noticing everyone’s confused looks King waved his hands in an attempt to make his lie more convincing: “Don’t get me wrong. Pete never hurt me or anything. But he…somehow always prevented me from being who I wanted to be…not that I remember much of that either…”

Noticing his other slip up he tried to continue his story: “In the end, Pete stopped bringing me to his son’s home. But from what I’ve…heard, Jake’s son was kidnapped by his own pets! I don’t remember much about it, but it seems like they made the human kid go through a living nightmare during that time…”

Everyone else in the room, but Fox, immediately felt a Deja-vu feeling about that story. It was the same thing that the thin PETA guy had told them. Fido and the others haven’t told a thing to Fox about it. They weren’t even sure if what he said was true or not. But now that they were hearing the same story from someone else, they were sure that what he had said was true.

“Do you know what happened to that kid?” Fido asked.

“No. As I said, Pete just…stopped visiting them. My owner had a huge fight with his son and they didn’t talk anymore after that. After they stopped talking to each other it was just Pete and me. He didn’t even want me to leave the house so I could always keep him company and, above all, not visit his son. He’s quite paranoid. That’s why he decided to move here. He couldn’t stand live in the same city as his son anymore. I guess he brought me along because he likes to have company of something like that. He sometimes forces me to play chess with him!” King explained, truthfully in the last statement.

“Oh…” Fido said.

There was a heavy silence in the room for a while. King was also thinking on a good excuse to just leave the place and go back home, because he didn’t want them to dig more into his past. He was afraid of telling them something they would detect as a lie. He was actually surprised to see that they bought that story so far. For police dogs they were sure naïve. But as King’s real dad once told him ‘The best lies are the ones with truth inside of them.’

Kevin then had an idea. He smirked and wagged his small tail thinking that he had discovered the perfect way to make King be more comfortable around them. King noticed the doberman’s grin and fixed stare at him and he felt uneasy. If there was a time to bolt from there it was now.

But Kevin was much faster then King. Kevin quickly leaped against King to tackle him again while shouting: “SURPRISE SNIFF TIME!”

Nobody could react fast enough to help King with that. After Kevin tackled King, he quickly made the corgi lay down on his belly. The doberman just wanted to introduce King to the glory aspects of being a dog. He was about to sniff King and then let the corgi sniff him back.

However, it made King remember how he was tackled before by that same doberman when he was still a human and he was furious to feel powerless against another dog again. “GET OFF ME NOW!” King shouted getting strength out of nowhere and finally getting free of the doberman’s hold.

Fighting back against the tears, King shouted at them: “I CAN’T BELIEVE I GAVE YOU GUYS A CHANCE. IT’S UNBELIEVABLE. DO ALL POLICE DOGS ACT LIKE THAT?” panting hard and trying to get a hold of his own emotions, he then said, this time not screaming: “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I was stupid enough I could actually make any friend in this stupid place. Bye.”

Then King rushed out of the door. Ralph then glared at the doberman and scolded him: “I told you, Kevin! Do not go randomly tackling other people as if you were trying to get the last frisbee of the world!”

“I just wanted to help the new guy…” The doberman’s ears fell not really understand what went wrong, while the others knew that King most likely reacted like that because what he had said about being bullied by police dogs.

Fox then told the others: “I’ll go get him.” then he left the house after his friend. He refused to lose a friend because of a misunderstanding. The others hoped Fox could help the corgi.

A few minutes later the phone of the house rang and Fox’s father answered it. “Hello?” the man said. But then all the dogs and mouse in the house could hear him yelling surprised: “WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY HE ESCAPED LAST NIGHT?”

King ran on the snow panting finally letting some of the tears to flow. He fell on his knees as he cursed himself for having such high hopes. He didn’t know why he kept giving animals chances. King just wanted his old life back. Sure it wasn’t glorious, but it was certain better than be toyed by a bizarrely old griffin and be constantly betrayed by other animals.

Then he heard someone calling his name and when he turned his head he saw Fox running after him. Before the corgi could run away, Fox grabbed his arm and said: “Please don’t run. I just want to talk.”

King looked at him skeptically “Really? So holding me against my will is going to magically make me listen to anything you have to say?”

Fox frowned and replied: “But if I don’t do that, you might run again!”

King then said: “My point has been made clear.”

Fox rolled his eyes. “Listen. Kevin is like that. You’ve seen how he was when you met him at the party.”

King then defended himself: “Yes, but it doesn’t give him the right to do such things with me? I don’t want to…sniff or be sniffed against my will!”

Fox then released King and seeing how his friend wasn’t running away, he thought it was a good sign. “Look, I know you didn’t have much contact with other dogs or any other animal as a matter of fact, but you are now. I can’t say I know what you’re going through because I don’t. I’m not in your skin to feel what you feel.”

King then crossed his arms and stared at his own feet. “However, I do know one thing.” Fox continued with a smile. “You’re my friend. I’ll help you to get through these changes in your life. We can sniff each other only when you feel comfortable with it, okay?”

King couldn’t help but to smile a little bit. When he raised his sight to thank Fox for being so supportive and enduring his outbursts he spotted a very familiar fat man approaching behind Fox. The snow must have made it hard for the silver dog to pick up his scent.

The corgi recognized the man as his former partner while he worked for PETA. His eyes went wide when he saw that he had a gun on his hand.

“You…” the man started as he glared at Fox who turned to also be surprised by that man’s sudden appearance. That man was the one that almost killed him. He felt angry and wanted to fulfill what he had said to King when they first met, but his body froze and it wasn’t because of cold. Part of him was still scared of that man and the gun wasn’t helping either.

Before Fox could react, the man pointed a gun at him and said: “How dare you! I tried to free you, so you could get the life you deserved. Now I’ll free you for good!”

Just before the man pulled the trigger, King grabbed his friend and made him fall on the snow to take him away from the bullet trajectory, but he forgot to move himself. When the former PETA member shot he hit king’s right arm.

The corgi yelped in pain and he grabbed the wound. Fox’s eyes went wide and before the man could shoot again, they all heard

“TACKLE HIM!” Ralph shouted.

“But you said…” Kevin replied

“TACKLE HIM!” everyone else, including Spo, shouted.

Then the doberman used all his might to knock the man on the snowy ground. Fido hurried and quickly took the gun from him while he was still disorientated.

Fox finally got up and helped his friend lay down. The bullet didn’t hit any dangerous area, but it still needed to be taken care of as soon as possible. As if it were on cue, Pete, disguised as human, looked quite worried at the scene.

“King!” he said.

Fox then gave the man a sad look and begged him: “Please, help him!”

Pete looked at the dog with a yellow bandana on the neck and replied with a soft smile: “Don’t worry he’ll be taken care of. I’ll take him to the hospital now.” Then Pete grabbed him and carried him to his car and then drove him to the nearest pet hospital.

Fox’s sadness was quickly turned into anger as he approached the man. He was snarling like he had never before and was ready to give the man a free painful plastic surgery on the face.

But then Ralph stood in front of him. I know what you might be feeling, but you can’t maul him. If you do that, someone might say you are dangerous and take you away. It’s not worth it, Fox.”

“He hurt King!” Fox said pointing a claw at the man who swallowed dry. Thankfully Kevin still held him against the ground while Fido put handcuffs on the man.

“I know…But don’t you think it’ll be better if you are here when King returns? Besides this idiot isn’t going to get away anytime soon. That’s his second murder attempt!”

Fox’s father finally arrived and then after checking his son was okay, he explained it to him before he even asked: “He escaped last night. I was told that they looked everywhere for him and nothing. Their first suspicion was that he might have got reunited with his partner who also got away, but they decided to warn us because you were kidnapped once by him, Fox.”

Fox looked down a little ashamed that he not only froze because of the memories of that fat guy almost killing him at the truck, but also because his inability to react in time got his friend hurt. ‘Some police dog I am…’ but then he asked his father: “Is King going to be alright?”

His father then answered: “Yes, he will. Pete took him to the hospital. The bullet didn’t hit any vital area. You can visit him at the hospital once he’s allowed to have visits.”

Fox nodded and the others also felt sorry for what happened to King. But they were also proud of him for saving Fox like that. They even started to plan how to thank him properly. Maybe if they made King join their club, the corgi would befriend them and also loosen up a little.

At the hospital, King slowly opened his eyes to notice he was on a bed with an IV attached to his right arm. Next to him there was Pete sitting on a chair. Pete then looked to the corgi and solemnly shook his head. “Do you have idea of the problems you would have caused me if you have been killed?”

“I love you too. I get shot for saving a friend and now I’m being scolded…” King said before groaning a bit.

Pete smiled and then said: “So you do consider him as a friend!”

King rolled his eyes at that, but he was too tired to make any remark.

Pete then continued: “You see, you’ve been unconscious for two days. That friend of yours, Fox, have spent a good amount of time here to check on you. In fact, he only left because his father insisted he got some rest.”

“Really?” King asked surprised.

Pete nodded before continuing: “Yes. But it wasn’t only him. All other police dogs and a mouse passed by to deliver those squeaky bones, ‘I can’t believe it’s not chocolate’ and other gifts. They even told something about taking you to a Christmas celebration at their club.”

The corgi didn’t say a thing. He was actually surprised to see that they were being so caring towards him. Now he felt bad for yelling at them like he did.

“I told you that all you needed was to give this new life a chance.” Pete then said giving a smile that, for some reason, freaked King out.

The end
Last edited by angelusbr on Fri Dec 17, 2010 6:02 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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copper
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Re: Contest! Finish "All the King's Men"

Post by copper »

Nice story. All you need is to fix a few grammatical issues and it's contest material. It was interesting to see King's reaction to being shot.
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