"What do you mean 'he's dead'?!" Doug screamed at his balling brother.
"Poochi…jumped off…the map! He didn't…respawn! I don't…want mom…to kill…me!" Paul cried hysterically in fear and despair.
The other two brothers began rambling about what they should tell their mother what happened to Poochie.
"I say we tell her suicide," Doug stated plainly.
Fluffy gave an oblong expression with a gay-like sigh.
"It's technically true." The brothers all conversed together to began an explanation that was far out of the minds of even the happiest of stoners.
"Whatcha guys talkin' about?"
Fluffy looked back at their forth brother who rolled his tongue stupidly. "Shut up, Poochie."
It wasn't another twenty minutes later did they realize that Poochie was standing right behind them the entire time.
"You're alive!" Paul screamed happily. He grabbed his stupid brother and bear hugged him madly. "Wait! I'm gonna kill you!"
Poochie barked happily. "Play!"
"Shut the fuck up, and die!" Paul pounced onto his brother and started beating up his idiot brother until the other two pulled him off.
Poochie's tongue continued to roll onto the ground as he smiled. "Play!"
"He's so stupid he can't feel pain, remember?"
"What?!" Paul said to Doug.
"He took a rocket to his face and kept running with a smile," Fluffy smiled as he reminisced his next thoughts. "Even I can't take something that big."
The brothers looked at Fluffy, and even Poochie stopped rolling his tongue to give a half-sane, half-intelligent expression.
"What?"
Doug shook his head and looked at Poochie. "What happened to you, anyway?"
"Well, when I jumped off the map, I went back home and Mommy made me breaky, and I took a nap. Mommy tucked me in nice and tight like buttered-toast, then a voice in the sky came and said, 'Friendly Dogs incoming!' so I went to work! I think the voice was God."
There was a moment of silence while the brothers contemplated idiocy.
"Play?"
"Sure," Fluffy said eagerly. "Come eat some dick with me."
The two trotted away and Doug and Paul looked at each other.
"Hey, I can see numbers in the sky." Paul said to Doug. There was a twenty-one on one side of the massive scoreboard floating in mid-air and an eleven on the other. As soon as a squeaky scream was heard, the eleven became twelve…then thirteen…fourteen…fifteen. It continued to rise.
"Run! The dogs are com…argh!"
The brothers ignored everything else around them as they sat in the dead middle of the map. As they watched the numbers grow, behind them was a mob of enemy foot soldiers running away. Right behind them was a rabid, blood covered dog uttering the words in a guttural tone, "Play…"
Once the numbers reached their maximum, a voice said in a thick Spaniard, "We are victorious."
"Why does Poochie think that the voice is God?" Paul asked, still recovering from ghostly shock. "I know for a fact that it's just our teams Overlord Commander."
"I don't know," Doug started. "I think he was knocked on his head during milking, or when he went to Nacht Der Untoten instead of Nuketown."
"What happened there?"
"I don't know. Poochie said that he played, but he came back on fire."
"Hmm…"
"Yes. Hmm…"
When the two returned from their brief war, the two stationary dogs looked confused and slightly terrified. Their brothers were covered in blood.
"What happened?" Doug said cautiously.
"We ate dick!" Poochie replied, tongue rolling idiotically.
"Well," Fluffy said with a lewd smile. "I did at least."
Poochie's ears immediately perked up and he smiled. "Play!" He ran off towards the edge of the map, followed by Fluffy to ensure he didn't really die that time.
Doug and Paul looked at each other.
"Something's wrong with this family."
"Dude," Paul stated. "I think Fluffy's gay."