Chapter One: The Engagement
It was a particularly warm Sunday morning when Marmaduke finally snapped. For too long had he sat idly by while the woman of his dreams, the lust of his loins, suffered immensely through the pursuit of a man. "I could've been that man," Marmaduke thought to himself. "Should've been that man. Instead, she took that moron Irving to share her nuptials." The 60 year old Great Dane was angry, but not at his beloved. She was merely a victim. For years he had watched as she suffered from the people in her life; unfair bosses, unsavory guys, and an unrelenting mother. "Yes, the mother. Its all her fault," Marmaduke woofed aloud this time, "she basically forced her into marriage, pushing her pro-union agenda on my poor beloved. Criticizing her body, her attitude, and her strength as an individual. I would have succumbed to self-poisoning as well, had I been in the same situation. Consuming dangerous amounts of chocolate, a disgusting and dangerous addiction. Someone needs to save her. It needs to be me."
With a great strength of will and determination no Sunday comic has ever mustered before, Marmaduke leapt out of his one-frame prison. Landing flat on his feet, he looked down in awe as he stood atop of Blondie scolding Dagwood. Disoriented and nauseated by this new dimension, he uncontrollably vomited the steak bone Barbara had snuck under the dinner table for him, with all its gristle and marrow, all over the two-foot tall-stacked sandwich in the frame below him, and then blacked out.
He woke up on Monday. Now crumpled in the recycling bin, his peers surrounded him. Garfield was folded over to his right, Beetle Bailey pushing down on him from above; All of them motionless. Fear overtook Marmaduke, but an even greater emotion powered him through it; Love. And lust. A lust for love, and a love of lust, and a love of making love, and a lust for that sweet theobromin-enriched pussy. Poisonous passion.
Acting without foresight, Marmaduke ran as fast as he could towards his desire, barking her name all the way, "CATHY!" Diving at full speed into her world, he entered the second dimension, plowing over Mr. Pinkley in the process.
On the other end of the inter-dimensional exchange, Cathy saw a bright flash of light, a glimpse of blue plastic, and when the smoke cleared, a monstrous Great Dane regally posing on the chest of her dead boss. She didn't have time to think before the giant muzzle was deep in her crotch, leaving no area un-sniffed, drooling all the while. Finally the moment caught up with her, and she let out a loud, harsh "Ack!"
This sent Marmaduke back on his haunches, face to face with the damsel of his dreams. Confused by the outburst, he tilted his head ever so slightly, never breaking eye contact. It dawned on him how strange this all must be, a huge Great Dane, in a different drawing style, appearing out of thin air and getting to know her (in the canine sense, not the biblical). Marmaduke remember hearing a human once say that first impressions are everything, so he put on the Ritz to impress his future wife. He sat, lay down, rolled over, spoke, played dead, spun in a circle, and finally held out his paw to shake. With his doe-like brown eyes locked on to Cathy's in an act of desperation for acceptance, how could she resist him?
She couldn't. She didn't understand it. But there was something in the sincerity and impressiveness of Marmaduke's showmanship, or maybe his pedigree, that made her heart melt (and her pussy runny). Cathy reached out her hand to meet with Marmaduke's paw, and when it did, she drew him towards her body. Before the action was complete, the Great Dane's great dick was fully out of hiding. His big red rocket was ready for blastoff. Cathy was shocked. She had never seen anything so big between two legs. It made Irving look like a baby-cut carrot atop three jellied beans. "Oh my god Irving!" she thought, "What if he found out? The shock, and most likely disgust, would kill him!" She suddenly became very anxious toward the forthcoming coitus, partly from guilt, but more from anticipation. She weighed her options, but it took her only a fraction of a second to make her decision, which made her immeasurably aroused. The juices began to flow from betwixed her legs as if the late Jack LaLanne was preparing his weekly juice regimen within her squish mitten. Cathy could wait no longer. She took a step back from her provocative prince, and began to peel off her pink blazer. Than she unbuttoned her frilled white blouse revealing a well worn "Chocolate is Life" t-shirt. All the while, she made attempts at seductive foreplay, swaying back and forth, up and down, like a taffy pulling machine. It may sound silly but make no mistake, it was sexy as Hell. She put on erotic theatrics enough to make Burt Reynolds and Farrah Fawcett blush themselves to death.
Marmaduke began to howl uncontrollably. Blood rushed to his groin, swelling his blue-veined bacon bazooka beyond its already blasphemous build. This brought him both blinding pain and deafening pleasure. Finally Cathy was undressed, now it was Marmy's turn. He unbuckled his collar and realized that was all he was wearing. It was finally time for the horizontal lindy hop to commence…
Chapter Two: The Marriage
Due to time constraints, Chapter Two has been cut. The author apologizes for depriving his readers of the graphic, border-line-illegal details of this story, but it would have been more atrocious to sacrifice time for the ending. So… get over it.
Chapter Three: The Honeymoon
After three full days of proliferating profane porking, when every moist orifice ran dry and vice versa, the interspecies lovebirds lay paralyzed in ecstasy. Unable to make sense of the world around them, they floated in the afterglow of forbidden serendipitous passion. After three full days of paralysis, they were starving. Cathy was the first to get up. She stepped over Mr. Pinkley's now putrid corpse and headed towards the office break room. There was only one thing that could make this momentous event more magical than it was. She tore two bags of powdered cocoa with adept hands, pouring them both into one large mug with the words, "I am woman, hear me snore," printed on it. She filled the mug at the water cooler and started back towards her life-affirming lover. "I brought you some hot chocolate Marmy," she said in a breathy and seductive tone.
"That stuff is poinson!" Marmaduke barked. "And I'll have none of it in my life. You have to choose, Chocolate or Me!"
Cathy turned into an apparition as the blood left her brain and the life left her body. Marmaduke raced to her aid, but there was nothing he could do. He wept as he watched his lover take in one last breath. With it's release came Cathy's final word. "Ack!" Marmaduke howled till his woofer was a tweeter, cursing the gods for a fate so cruel. He couldn't bear to live without her, so in his desperation, he did the only thing a misplaced, heartbroken dog in a single-woman-stereotype's world could do. He picked up the mug and forced the liquid chocolate, with tears in his eye, past his jowls. And as the tepid temperature theobromin traveled internally towards his tummy, he tweeted to himself, "Dang, this stuff's to die for."
The End