Dog Rhymes With Devil
A/N: I started writing this when I was ill, very ill actually, the kind of ill that makes you feel delirious and wonder if you're actually controlling your own body… Anyone felt like that? No? Just me then. I was inspired to write this when my awesome friend showed me some humouress twilight fanfic. Hope you enjoy reading it and please review!
Disclaimer:
Me: Ooooo.
Dog: woof.
Me: oh hey, do I own this story?
Dog: erm, I think so.
Me: shit u can talk?
Dog: it's your bloody story so duuuh, also because its your story WHY THE HELL DO YOU HAVE DISCLAIMER?
Me: I don't own you, my mum does.
Dog:...
•Chapter1: SKYDIVING... Without a parachute.
It was good to get away from the house, too much was going on at home but mainly I'd had a falling out with my canine pet; he didn't agree with an experiment I performed. Anyway I was looking down below, the door to the plane was open but I'd stupidly left my parachute on the seat – it was too tight round my chest. It was just as I turned round for my parachute that the plane jolted… the ground slipped from beneath me and I fell backwards. Right. Out. The. Plane. Wow it's windy up here. Ahhh the cool wind across my face is refreshing, lets just look up a second...
Oh shit he's found me. A black blur with razor teeth bared made me poop myself, the only comical thing was it's two back legs in plaster cast... I really shouldn't have thrown my dog out the window! The unfortunate result of seeing if dogs could land on their feet, yes I know that's cats but it was just an idea!
As the black blur aka my dog hurtled towards me I quickly showed him some post, knowing of his hatred for the postman I hoped it would distract him... Fail... One good thing... I Can't see the dog... Bad thing... Really really bad thing…. Neither can I see my arm along with the post it was holding! Oh wait, scrap that! There it is dangling from my dogs mouth as he flies to safety using a jetpack - the dog gets a fucking jetpack!
I think I blacked out. Why? Oooooh yeah I've only got one arm left and I think that I've lost so much blood that not even Edward Cullen would consider me as a light snack as blood-sucking creatures go. Hmmm. I'm missing something and I'm not talking about me arm. Ah what a lovely scenic view from above the earth and if I look very closely I can see my dog grinning his canine grin below me. Why's he so smug? Aha,that's right I've not got a parachute...
-two weeks later-
From downstairs I hear my mum, "JOHN, WHERE'S THE DOG GONE?"
'I'm not too sure but if you see him can u tell him from me, I WANT MY BLOODY ARM BACK!'