Charles the Strangler- A Courage the Cowardly dog story
It was a dull day in the middle of nowhere. Courage was on his own in the, gazing out of the window at the seemingly endless stretch of barren land that surrounded his home. In the distance he saw a small speck gradually growing bigger and bigger until he could see it clearly. It was Eustace's truck. Courage ran outside, wagging his tail excitedly. The truck pulled to a stop outside the farmhouse, wheezing its last stinking breaths. Eustace hopped out of the truck, ignoring Courage completely. Courage ran over to see Muriel as she climbed out of the passenger seat, and saw that she was carrying a large oil painting. "Isn't it nice, Courage?" she asked. Courage didn't think it was nice though. It was a portrait of a tall, cunning-looking man with a handlebar moustache in an old-fashioned suit of armour. "It's one of Eustace's ancestors" she explained. Courage definitely did not think it was nice. "His name was "Charles the strangler, can't think why they would call him that, can you Courage?" Courage had a pretty good idea why though. That night, by the time Courage had curled up ready to go to sleep the painting had been hung on the wall in the living room, opposite where Courage was lying. Out of the corner of his eye, Courage spotted a slight movement. He shook his head and closed his eyes. But he heard a shuffling sound across the room, and upon opening his eyes, saw that Charles the strangler had disappeared from the painting!
Courage ran upstairs, following a trail of wet paint that led straight into the bedroom! He saw Charles hovering menacingly above Eustace and Muriel, his hands about to enclose around Muriel's neck and let out a cry of fear. Charles spun round and saw Courage. The ghostly murderer dived at Courage, as Courage ran for cover. Charles slid back into his painting as if nothing had happened, but Eustace had been woken. "Stupid dawg, why d'ya wake me up at this time in the night?!" Courage attempted to inform his owner of Charles' murderous intentions with a series of incomprehensible charades, before giving up and returning to the living room. Courage didn't get a second's sleep that night, as he stayed and watched the painting with an eagle eye until morning. When the sun rose from the east and loudmouthed roosters across the world began waking farmers from their heavy slumber, Courage was still there, watching the painting. He knew he had to do something before Charles sprung from the painting once more, but he didn't know what. But inspiration soon came in the form of Muriel's cooking. "Eustace, I've burnt the bacon" she called, and as Eustace came downstairs grumbling under his breath, Courage began to think up a plan. He snuck into the kitchen quietly then leapt up, grabbing the handle of the simmering pan of greasy, burnt bacon in his mouth. He ran into the living room, closely followed by Eustace. Bounding over to the painting, he flung the bacon from the pan onto Charles' face, burning a hole in the surface of the painting. Courage thought he heard a scream of pain as this happened, but convinced himself he had imagined it. "Look, what you've gone and done now, stupid dog" cried Eustace. "See Muriel he's ruined the painting!"
"Oh, I'm sure he didn't mean to do it, Eustace, and I though it was a bit sinister anyway…"