I noticed that there was only one fan fiction on this site including Flack and Tubbs(and a very good one it is, BTW), so, since they're a couple of my favorite villains, I wrote one of my own. This mostly adheres to the continuity of the 1985 special and the books; a few minor alterations are that Nose Marie has the southern accent she had in the TV series, Howler speaks English as he also did in the TV series, and for all practical purposes, the Pound Puppies are able to speak to the humans. Please enjoy! (BTW, as most have likely assumed, the name Rebound is a reference to the current Pound Puppies series. Also, I now have pictures of Sneakers and Rebound on my blog, the Keeper of the Fun blog!)

It's an evening in New York city. Mr. Sidney Bigelow, supervisor of the local dog pound, is in his office signing papers. Doc Weston, the pound veterinarian, and Dabney Nabbit, the dogcatcher, have both left for the night. Bigelow goes to the kitchen for a cup of coffee; he sets his glasses down on the counter as he pours himself a cup and just as he sets his cup down, he accidentally knocks his glasses off the counter and they go sliding away. "Oh, drat, where could my glasses have gone this time?" Bigelow says, as he scuffles around the floor of the kitchen, and eventually his office, looking for his glasses.

He was so busy looking for his glasses, he didn't hear the voices of a pair of dognappers outside.

Flack stands by the entrance to Bigelow's office while Tubbs is endeavoring to pry the door open with a crowbar. "A'right, y'got da car parked, Tubbs?"

"Duh, yeah, I parked in a spot what said, 'fine for parking.'"

"Excellent, now as soon as we break into da vet's office we'll pilfer every pooch in da joint! Uhh, you're sure dis is da vet's office, right, Tubbs?"

"Duh, I'm pretty sure."

Tubbs finally manages to pry the door open; upon entering, the two dognappers see Bigelow digging around behind his desk. Flack is slightly taken aback. "Why didn't'cha tell me dis was da pound supervisor's office?" he hisses. "Well, he didn't have his name on it or nuthin'!" Tubbs replies. "Uh, Tubbs?" Flack steps outside and points to the sign above the door reading, "POUND SUPERVISOR."

"Well, Flack, you know I don't read good!"

"Is someone there? I can't see but two feet in front of me without my glasses." Bigelow says. Startled, Tubbs drops the crowbar which lands on Flack's foot. "EEYOW! Tubbs, you BUTTERFINGERS!" the skinny dognapper squeals in a high-pitched voice. "Doc Weston? Is that you? I thought you'd left for the night…" Bigelow says.

"Huh?…" Flack responds. "Uh, I think y'got da wrong folks, Mister-" Tubbs begins.

"Nabbit, is that you, too?" Bigelow says, cutting Tubbs off abruptly. "Funny…I'd thought you'd left, too."

"He thinks…dat we're da vet an' da dogcatcher!" Flack muses, a sly grin spreading across his face.

"Well, shouldn't we oughta tell him he's wrong?"

"No, you oaf!" Flack snaps, elbowing Tubbs in his ample belly. "Don't you see? If we let him think we're da vet an' da dogcatcher, we'll have full run of da joint! We'll pilfer all da mutts out from under his nose an' he'll never be da wiser!" Flack hesitates for all of a second. "Ah, ahem, had you wanted to see us for some reason, Mr. Bigelow?" Flack says in a high-pitched (and very fake sounding) voice.

"I'm lucky to see anyone with my glasses gone like this! Uhm…are you feeling well, Doc Weston? Your voice sounds…different somehow."

"Oh, I'm fine, really, Mr. Bigelow, I'm just getting over a bit of a cold." Flack punctuates his sentence with a couple of very fake sounding coughs.

"Well, as long as you're here already, there are a few things I might ask you to help with."

"Really? We'd be more than happy to assist you , Mr. Bigelow. What can we do for you?" Flack says.

"Well, for starters, I might ask you to give Sneakers here a haircut; his nails need a trim as well." Bigelow hands Flack a scruffy brown dog with white paws and a dark brown patch over one eye. "And Rebound here needs a flea bath, which I'll entrust you with, Nabbit." Bigelow hands Tubbs a small, floppy-eared grey dog. "I'll warn you of one thing though, Rebound's rather exuberant, so you'll want to keep him on this leash." Bigelow then attaches the leash to Rebound's collar.

"It will be our pleasure, Mr. Bigelow." Flack replies.

"Duh, yeah." adds Tubbs.

Dis is too easy. Flack thinks, as he leaves.