DISCLAIMER: I have nothing to do with the show, characters, or episodes. This is a work of fiction. Sometimes I dream of this sort of thing, after my kid watches these shows over and over and over and over…
"Violet!" the grating sound of Mr. Bleakman's voice roused Clifford from a deep sleep the following morning. Mr. Bleakman could be heard from a shed in the neighboring backyard and over a 6 feet high privacy fence. "Where is my shovel?"
Clifford had had a restless night and his head began to ache before the birds started singing. "You'd know where your shovel was if I crammed it up your back side, you old coot," grumbled Clifford as he rolled over to block out the morning sunlight.
"Oh, I don't feel right," he thought as he involuntarily trembled. It wasn't cold outside and there wasn't any dampness coming from atmospheric humidity.
A dull ache in Clifford's jaw made him want to bite down hard on something, just to relieve the pressure. "Maybe a toothache," he thought.
"Cliiiforrrd!" came the tell tale song voice of Emily Elizabeth Howard, his owner.
Clifford didn't feel like listening to her immature paddle today. He pushed his back up against the door so she couldn't enter his doghouse.
"Hey boy! Ready to walk me to school? Why are you still sleeping?" asked Emily, full of concern.
Clifford snorted and closed his eyes ever tighter. "Emily," thought Clifford to himself, "You really are about as brain dead as a snail crawling through a pile of salt." He raised his upper lip and let out a warning growl.
Emily stepped back in alarm. She had a scared expression as she hastily backed away. "Uh, okay. You go back to sleep, Clifford." She then ran into the house to tell her mother about Clifford's frightening behavior.
Clifford knew that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so he decided to prowl around town and see if his dog friends were playing on some nice well manicured lawn. Those were the best places to mess around. It was especially fun to dig holes in a freshly planted flowerbed.
Curiously he wondered why his bottom jaw ached severely and why he couldn't control the seizures plaguing his face. His teeth gnashed together rapidly and saliva had quickly turned to fluffy foam.
"Aaahhhh! I can't stand all the noise and all those a assaulting smells." He was getting angrier and angrier.
He had stopped in the middle of an intersection and cars were honking and the drivers were yelling at him through open car windows.
Clifford bared his teeth and growled at the drivers. Rearing up on his hind legs, he brought his front paws down on the hood of the nearest car. The force caused the hood to crush inward and the radiator exploded with a loud hiss and popping sound.
The surrounding motorists screamed and abandoned their vehicles in a mad rush to escape the giant red monster.
Clifford fixed his gaze on the pair of dogs across the Square. He watched the yellow bulldog and purple poodle playing tag on the library lawn. A twinge of resentment pierced in Clifford's heart. He remembered a time when T-Bone tried to blame Clifford for breaking Cleo's birdbath in her backyard. It angered Clifford immensely that his supposed friend would betray him like that. "Who did he think he was? How dare T-Bone say such lies?" Clifford's thoughts turned to Cleo's treacherous ways. "I remember that time Cleo made Emily Elizabeth lose confidence in me. Emily asked me to take Laura's birthday package to the mailman. Cleo grabbed the present from me and tore it open. Then T-Bone inflated the 'Magic Ball' and it wouldn't' fit back into the box. It was all her fault! If she had only minded her own business, I'd still be number one in Emily's eyes!"
He could only focus on how many times that puffy bitch got him in trouble. "That piggy bitch got the idea for the three of us to eat up all four barrels of my 'Bowser Bites'. They were tricks for treats and I was the only one doing tricks!"
Rage coursed through Clifford's veins. He was going to give them a piece of his mind. Bounding through the street, he stopped short on the lawn's edge outside of the library.
The other two dogs stopped playing and ran up to Clifford. "Hey Big Guy," Cleo began, "wanna play a game with us?"
Before Clifford could reply, a sleek greyhound pranced up to the three. "Well, what are you guys up to?"
T-Bone cleared his throat and said, "We're going to play tag, Mac. Would you like to play with us?"
Macabelli pointed his nose into the air and scoffed, "No, I'm going to do something worth while. I don't like to waist my time like you so, T-Bone." With that, Mac sauntered off in the direction of the lighthouse.
Cleo shook her head, "Well, what's wrong with him?"
Clifford stared at Mac as he was leaving. He couldn't believe how insulting Mac was. How dare he?
Clifford growled and lunged after Mac. Mac heard Clifford coming, so he turned to see what Clifford was up to.
"Mac, you have waved your pompous nose at us for the last time! You are no longer welcome on this island."
Without hesitation, Clifford opened his jaws and in a flash, Mac's tail end was between Clifford's teeth.
Cleo and T-Bone came running as fast as they could. "Clifford, no!" they both screamed at the same time.
Clifford chomped down and vigorously flung the front half of Mac's body on the library lawn. Crimson life spread across the freshly mowed grass. Mac's lifeless face showed shock. His jaws were parted and his pale pink tongue spread out in the grass.
