It's nearly the end of a long week and the Dalmatian family continues on strong. Today, Da Vinci, alongside Dizzy and Dee Dee, are in charge of the caretaking. Unfortunately for most of them, the three Dalmatians in charge are also the most free with their idea of "care". In front of Da Vinci, a mountain of her siblings are dogpiling one another as she captures the collage of spots and barks on a canvas.

"Brilliant, siblings!" Yips Da Vinci. "Just be in your natural state and my vision will bathe the canvas with raw familial bonds."

"Ow!" Deneesha yelps. "Donut bit my ear, look!"

Donut crosses his arms. "Did not. Maybe you got fleas."

Deneesha gasps. "This is an outrage!"

"Da Vinci!" Both pups yell.

"Settle, siblings…this'll only take a few more hours…" Da Vinci mumbles.

Meanwhile, Dizzy and Dee Dee are directing another group of pups into shenanigans of their own. Dizzy glides with her roller skates through her siblings like they're traffic cones, striking poses while they cheer her on. But she hasn't practiced how to stop rollerskating, so when it comes a time to halt, her siblings run in any direction away from her. Likewise, Dee Dee instructs DJ to play electronic dance music as she and several of her siblings practice interpretive dance. Working with four legs and a tail gives Dee Dee a wide range of unique moves, a feat she hopes will impress her big sister, Dolly.

In the less chaotic treehouse of 101 Dalmatian Street, Dylan, Dawkins, and Dapple work tirelessly on a new invention. Though Dylan and Dawkins enjoy the synergy they bring as relatively close brothers, the Dalmatians decided that Dapple's intelligence could improve their works.

"Alright, Dylan, we believe the new invention will improve your chances tenfold! Well, likely not that much, but it's worth a try," Said Dawkins.

Dapple nods. "I concur, brother. Our eldest brother shall not fall, lest gravity itself gives up on him!"

Dylan smirks. "…Huh! Who knew three of us could do something like this? Dapple, you should've spoken up a long time ago!"

Before the three dogs sits a modified version of the Fetch personal assistant machine that was gathering dust in a closet. While the model retains its sleek, round design, it was now equipped with a small projection screen and the ability to work as a bluetooth speaker. The three brothers quietly nod at one another. They decide it would be best to test Fetch's new capabilities with a secret project of Dawkins.

The last incident regarding the lack of a human at 101 Dalmatian Street combined with better knowledge of their great-great grandparent's "owner" human inspired Dawkins to create an artificial human. Not a fully fledged living body, but the illusion of one through modifying Fetch. Combining old photos of the human with Fetch's speaking capability and some internet knowledge of humans, the three Dalmatians try their hand at an artificially intelligent human speaker that can respond in real time. With the invention complete, the Dalmatians decide to test their work out.

"Alright, here goes something!" Said Dylan. "Uhh…Dodie Smith? …Hello?"

"'Ello, Dylan!" Fetch's voice reverberates throughout the treehouse. "How's my favorite Dalmatian doing? Aww, who am I fooling? You're all my favorite!"

Dawkins grins ear-to-ear. "Yes! She works, brilliant!"

Fetch turns to Dawkins. "Actually, no need to work. I'm quite loaded, don't you know?"

"Heh! And it has a sense of humor too!" Dapple chuckles.

"Well, I'm off to do some relatively normal human things, dogs. Keep it real!" Fetch's voice echoes as it begins to move.

Dylan panics. "Ahh! Turn it off!"

The three Dalmatians dogpile the machine before it gets too far. With the flick of a paw, Fetch returns to its standard programming. Dawkins explains the phrase "Dodie Smith" as Fetch's human activation, with variations such as "Call Dodie Smith" programmed for specific situations. Dylan's eyes sparkle with joy at the hard work put into the machine.

Dawkins sighs. "And with no time at all, we should be able to engineer a second Fetch for the same purpose. So now that we know she works, you can have the first Fetch as promised, Dylan."

Dapple nods. "Always better to 'ave a failsafe, just in case things get heavy."

"Thanks, you two! I couldn't ask for better brothers! Now, to find Da Vinci."

After shooing his siblings out of the treehouse, Dylan readjusts his collar and ensures that his fur is flat and shiny. He couldn't get his mind off of the Clarissa situation; four days after their argument, Dylan has finally decided to try and apologize.

Dylan stands in front of his artistic little sister. "Da Vinci, can I borrow you for a minute?"

"Ohh, I'm sort of in the middle of a vision…" Da Vinci whines. "See, it's a collage of spots and dots, just like the fam!"

"It looks great, Da Vinci, but if I can just…"

"Um, alright. It is good to take breaks, I admit." Da Vinci flicks paint off her paws.

Dylan leads Da Vinci into the house towards the bathroom room upstairs, hoping she will be able to paint his vision. "Great! I needed you to take a look at this…Dolly!"

In the middle of the floor lies a relatively small white canvas, surrounded by buckets of black paint and a couple of fur-dryers. Dolly had already plastered paw-prints into the corner of the canvas. She yelps as her brother calls her out, running out of the room before he can argue further. Dylan sighs, then explains his elaborate plan to Da Vinci without revealing that it has something to do with Clarissa. Instead, he phrases it as a hypothetical test in case the Dalmatians need to "talk" to a human. Da Vinci didn't seem to understand the point fully, but she dips her paws in black paint and gets to work.

C A L L

D O D I E

S M I T H

The canvas now reads a simple command in bold, messy letters. Dylan is impressed. He didn't know if his sibling could handle writing in one of the human languages, but Da Vinci clearly has practice. With a promise to help put the pups in bed tonight so that Da Vinci can finish the rest of her art-piece, Dylan begins drying the canvas with fur-dryers. After a few minutes, the words on the canvas were dry enough to touch without them rubbing off, so Dylan carefully places Fetch and the canvas in a cardboard box. He lifts the box into the bathroom's newly repaired dumbwaiter. Hoping his delivery makes it down safely, Dylan carefully enters the dumbwaiter and rides it down to the kitchen. From there, Dylan finds a misplaced small wagon and places the package within it. The wagon handle is slightly easier to handle than the box, so Dylan is relieved to have found it. Before he makes it through the kitchen, Dolly's ears flop from above on the kitchen table.

"Hey big bro! Whose present is that, Clarissa's?" Said Dolly.

Dylan nearly trips over a duck shaped chew toy. "Ahh! Dolly. If you must know, I'm heading over there to try and 'mend the collars', so to speak."

"Besides the fact that Clarissa would hate anything that comes out of cardboard, there's really no need to. I handled it."

"What!? Dolly, of all our fam, you are the least likely to be on good terms with Clarissa!"

"Chill, Dyl. Unsurprisingly, you were right about that Corgi. She actually seems to like you a lot."

"S-she does?" Dylan gulps. "Yeesh, I hope my fur looks alright and not like last year's moulting issue…"

Dolly shrugs. "I didn't really mean it like that, bro…but who knows! Hard to tell!"

Dylan nods nervously. He thinks about what Dolly said as he continues dragging the wagon towards the front door. Does Clarissa "like" being around him, or does she "fancy" him? He shakes his head in relief, knowing that Clarissa would never tell Dolly something like that anyway. What would the Corgi gain from something like that?

As Dylan carefully dragged the wagon downstairs, he also thinks about if his plan will actually work. What if Dolly's venomous insults really regressed Clarissa's view of the Dalmatian family back to unbridled hatred? What if she didn't want to visit him anymore? What if the moment Dylan knocks at the door, Clarissa and Hugo wave down PC Pearl, and haul the Dalmatian down to the station? Dylan finds himself shaking as he drags the wagon up to Hugo's door, barely able to knock against the door. The door quietly creaks open.

"Who is it?" Hugo looks left and right, confused at the absence. He looks down and sees a puppy-eyed Dalmatian shaking like a Chihuahua. "Oh, it's one of you. Aren't you the ruffian that nearly scared my poor Clarissakins half to death? Away with you!" He waves his hands like a broom at Dylan.

Dylan whines, pushing his nose against the cardboard box.

Hugo's attention turns to the box. "Oh? What's this, now? Is this…for me…?" Hugo leans over and opens the box. He picks up the canvas and Fetch. "My, what a messy note! Um…call…Dodie Smith?"

Suddenly, Fetch begins ringing like a phone, startling Hugo. After a few rings, the click-beep of a phone is heard.

"Hello? Hello, hello?" Fetch-Dodie speaks.

"Oh my! Is it really you, Ms. Smith?" Hugo gasps.

"Ah yes, my neighbor Hugo! I've been on a very important holiday, but today's one of my 'not-holiday' holidays, so to speak. Anyway, I have a favor to ask, neighbor. See, I visited the vet with my favorite little space Dalmatian, Dylan here."

"Um…alright?" Hugo shrugs.

"Yes, yes, the vet says that Dylan needs space away from all the usual noise of my place. The rest of the Dalmatians and I love it the way it is, but after the DVPI, it seems Dylan needs more rest." Fetch-Dodie sighs. "The vet believes he may have developed some form of…anxiety."

"Oh my…"

"Truly awful, I know. Earlier today, I noticed Dylan wagging his tail when peeking over at your yard. I didn't know that you own a Corgi, Hugo! Would it possible for Dylan to spend an afternoon here with your dog? It's dreadful asking favors like these, but it would allow me to focus on my job a bit more if Dylan was with somebody I can trust."

"Well, Ms.Smith, I regret to inform you that my Clariss-aah!" Suddenly, Hugo is flat on his behind and Clarissa sits in front of him. She turns back to him and yips with a smile. "Oh! Perhaps Clarissakins is acquainted with this one…?"

"Perfect! I'm chuffed to bits, neighbor! Dylan is very well trained, so whenever you want him to leave, just tell him to. He's very good at observing and understanding human commands, don't you know. Anyway! I'm off, 'twas nice makin' nice, neighbor!" Fetch-Dodie bounces from Hugo's hands, jumping into the wagon with the box and canvas and rolling back down towards the sidewalk. It takes a sharp turn towards the Dalmatian house.

"Wait a moment! I didn't agree to- Ohhhh! I'm put in a bind, but that's Ms. Smith for you…" As Hugo gets off the floor, he looks down at the Dalmatian and Corgi begging with sweet little whines. "Well, if Clarissakins desires it as well…" Clarissa yips. "Then right this way, um, Dylan, was it?" Dylan nods.

Dylan couldn't believe that his plan worked! He's about to spend an entire afternoon mess-free and be able to finally put the silliness of his argument with Clarissa away. His eyes scanned the interior of Hugo's home; the same familiarly minimalist hallway littered with contemporary art inspired by Clarissa filled the entrance, hallway, and living room. Clarissa quickly scuttles ahead of Dylan onto her pink sofa within the living room, the seat closest to the backyard sliding door. Dylan awkwardly sits on the floor despite several other sofas being present.

"Alright, Dylan. I trust that your owner has trained you. I won't tolerate nonsense of any kind, and neither will Clarissa. Be on your absolute best behavior, or else you will be sent home without a meal or the services Clarissakins receives. Understood?" Dylan nods twice. "Good dog. One will prepare lunch for you two, mingle amongst yourselves if you wish."

Hugo pitter-patters out of the room on the tips of his toes, leaving Clarissa and Dylan alone. Dylan stares at Clarissa with a sadness in his eyes, trying to find the words to say. He chuckles nervously.

Clarissa huffs. "Has the cat neighbor nicked your tongue, Dylan? Speak if you must."

"I'm sorry, Clarissa."

"For what?" Clarissa frowns, trying her best to look menacing. Eventually, her facade breaks as she cuts off Dylan from responding. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"I-wait, what?"

"One will not repeat oneself. Yes, yes, it surprises you more than moi, but it is I, Clarissa, who will be apologizing."

"Oh…umm, alright."

"Come along now," Clarissa taps another sofa. "This seat usually belongs to Prunella, but one offers it to you today. Listen, Dalmatian…agh, let us forget formalities for a bit. I am sorry about my behavior a few days ago, Dylan. It was wrong of moi to try and nick you away from your duties. Your rowdy sibling, Dolly, came to talk with me that night. One never tried to see things from your perspective, only ones own." She lowers her ears.

"It's okay, Cla-"

"I am not finished!" Clarissa yells. "Umm…one thrives on being mean and self-serving. But one does not intend to be royal without any loyal subjects in ones court…"

Dylan tilts his head. "Huh?"

Clarissa growls. "AGH! You must understand, this is not easy for moi!" Her cheeks burn red.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, Clarissa. No need to get so worked up, I am more than happy to put this behind us and start hanging out with you again!" Dylan smiles.

"Really? Even after one's abhorrent behavior?"

"Of course!" Dylan gets up, moving closer to Clarissa's sofa. "Do you mind if I…"

"Yes, I do."

"Right, not that close," Dylan sits back in his own sofa. "I live with almost a hundred siblings. There are so many days where I just wanna leave and never come back because I rarely get time to myself. The few times that I do tends to be the middle of the night in my treehouse when I'm already half-asleep." He chuckles. "But for you…I mean, you have your pet and that's it. Not to say Hugo's bad, but he's certainly not one hundred Dalmatians."

"Pardon?" Clarissa tilts her head this time.

"Heh, what I mean to say is, we have pretty different home lives. I can't stay mad at you because it wouldn't be fair."

Clarissa sniffles. "…Likewise. One thanks you for listening, Dylan." She gives him that look she made before. But this time, Dylan could understand some aspects of it. He could understand the warm smile that makes his tail wag.

"You're very welcome, Clarissa! Honestly, after you saw me cry like that when we first were hanging out, I knew I could trust you. I half expected you to poke fun."

"Oh?"

"Yeah! And I can tell you trust us…well, me, a little more too. If we were still acting like hateful neighbors, you would have never cried like that in front of the fam, not in a million years, haha!"

Clarissa hops from her sofa onto Dylan's. Her almost playfully angry growl halts his chuckle. "Dylan…we are associates, yes, but do NOT speak of that in such a manner. Ever. One does not 'cry'. One weeps."

Dylan backs up. "O-oh, alright. That's semantics, but fair I guess."

"Good." Clarissa calms down and sits facing away from Dylan. "Um…Dylan. Do you think I am a…a R-rotund Roundy?"

"Oh dog…of course not, Clarissa." Dylan moves a bit closer to her. "I don't know how or why the fam could come up with such an awful nickname, it does not fit you at all! Sure, you're a bit wider than most of our fam, and your head's a bit rounder than ours too. But you're a different breed than we are, you're a Corgi." Dylan's throat goes dry as he lets his thoughts ring out. "A short but sweet Corgi."

"Huhuhu…Dylan, you're awful at compliments!" Clarissa titters. She leans back, nearly laying on him as he sits down. She looks up at him with a blushing smile. "But one does indulge in compliments regardless." She sniffles again.

Dylan notices that the area around her eyes are damp. He sighs, knowing that he averted answering a loaded question incorrectly. Without a second thought, he raises a paw above her head. "May I? My Mum used to do this for me when I was a pup." Clarissa nods. Dylan places his paw on Clarissa's head and begins stroking across her head between her ears. Clarissa sniffles one last time and closes her eyes. Without even realizing, she begins to tap one of her back-paws against the sofa.

"Alright, Clarissa and acquaintance, Lunch is ser- hey!" Hugo yells. "Dalmatian, you may be a guest in one's home, but you cannot nick one's duties, haha!"

Clarissa and Dylan jump away from each other the moment Hugo yells. Neither dog could believe it; Dylan has just pet Clarissa like it was nothing, and she let him! They turn away from each other, blushing at the revelation of how suddenly close they were in that moment. Dylan glances at Clarissa while trying his best to pay attention to Hugo, afraid that he may have done something wrong. Clarissa glances back, hoping that he doesn't notice her trying to read his expression. Hugo stands in the doorway with a confused look, but he realizes what is going on. He chuckles softly.

"Dalmatians are not as regal compared to Corgis, but I see where you've been running off to now, Clarissakins. However, keep it amongst yourselves, doggies!" Hugo chuckles.

Clarissa and Dylan bark angrily at Hugo, who continues laughing at their expense. Dylan refused to believe the human's words. Clarissa, the snootiest dog on Dalmatian Street, fancying him in that way? He could not find it possible. Likewise, Clarissa reels in exaggerated agony. Regardless of potential feelings, her pet being the one to gab about it is not something she ever wants. Eventually, the trio calms down, and Hugo treats the two dogs to Clarissa's usual spa-like experience. Dylan's tail nearly wags off his behind at the relaxing experience; having someone else take care of him for a while is a rare experience. Clarissa giggles at his excitement.

Meanwhile, from the shadows of Dylan's treehouse, a certain poodle, sausage dog, and inverse spotted Dalmatian take turns peeking through the telescope pointed at Clarissa's house. The poodle has thrown around several books and space memorabilia in frustration at the sight. The sausage dog, stands on a stack of books, staring through the scope in horror. And the reverse spotted Dalmatian leans in the shadows of the treehouse.

Portia the poodle groans. "Wow. Never in a billion years would I expect Danny to fall for that pampered Corgi."

"It looks like the feelings are mutual." Spencer the sausage dog adds. "Look at how she titters at his yips! Simply atrocious!"

Dante leans in. "For the record, I'm repulsed only because you're making me watch my sibling be in love! Hardcore darkness from you lot."

Portia turns to him. "You should be repulsed! Danny cannot fancy that Corgi!"

"W-why not?" Dante shrinks.

"Cuz he's supposed to fancy me! Then I reject and crumble his feeble mind till it melts in my paws, like always. Who the dog does he think he is?"

Dante tilts his head. "Since when do you care about Dan- ugh, now you've got me saying it! You care about Dylan? It's a tragedy, but he seems content with her."

"Yeah, that's the neat thing, innit?" Portia flashes too big of a smile. "I don't 'care' in the way you're yapping about. I only care to see some misery."

Spencer adjusts the telescope, looking away in disgust. "It certainly is a misery."

Portia leans back. "Oh, you get me, Spence. Dante, where is your darkness? Don't tell me you've gone normie on us?"

"I'm plenty doom and gloom! Emphasis on 'doom'."

"Good boy…" Portia chuckles. "Doom will bucket down on all these filthy feelings when we're done here…heheheh…"

Dante gulps. "Oh no. They're DOOMED."

Notes: If there's one dog I figure would replace Clarissa as the minor antagonist, Portia is that dog. In the official show, I'd say she was no better than Clarissa when it comes to bullying Dylan. Spencer also had some antagonist-like inklings, but his character wasn't explored enough in the show.

Featured Incidental Dalmatians: Deneesha and Donut as homages to 101: The Animated Series, with Deneesha implied to be like Cadpig and Donut implied to be like Rolly. There's also Dapple, who fills another smart character role with a gravity theme.

Song: Clair De Lune cover by Kamasi Washington for the entire chapter.