by Asphalt Bastard
Vic Lefroy was also walking through the ravine with his dog. He loved his dog, and walked him often. The dog loved Vic also and had constipation because of it. During the walk, Vic Lefroy and his beast climbed up from the ravine floor and facing them opposite was Klenin, humming softly to Christ. The dog, sensing the bliss radiating from Klenin, ran towards him and began to lick him profusely anywhere that seemed convenient. Klenin picked up the dog and gave it a large kiss on a lower molar.
Vic Lefroy, his complexion overcome with jealous rage, picked up a rock and hurled it towards the dog he most loved and the man he most hated. It was not a large rock, but it struck the dog squarely in the ankle and proved fatal due to an immediate, though highly improbable, series of complications. Both men stood in thick shock as the dog, his eyes bulging and his tail retreating into his rectum danced his last dog dance, his final resting position triangular.
"Are you on crack?" asked Klenin, who always thought people were on crack.
"I'LL TELL YOU WHAT I AM!" bellowed Vic, right angles of drool jutting out from his chin, "I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" continued Vic, who meant to say `going to' but covered the mistake nicely with unused pure rage. "I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" repeated Vic, this time slightly more lyrically, since he had never before said these particular words in a row and a small part of him felt a tingle of excitement at doing something altogether new for a change.
"You must be on crack!" said Klenin, as he began to take small and highly noticable steps backwards. "I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" said Vic, breaking into quick orgasm.
As Vic lunged towards his prey, Klenin recalled that the very best thing to do when being run at is to lie down, since horses won't run over people. It was only in retrospect that Klenin realized that Vic was not a horse.
"YOU KILLED MY DOG!" screamed Vic as he kicked Klenin in a very liquid, slow motion way, which surprised both of them. Then he paused. "My car..." said Vic, his mind finding some soft edification in the back corner and clawing it for fuel.
"Your car? What about your car?" asked Klenin, hoping to avoid being beaten to a bubbling mass by cleverly changing the subject.
"Yes... I'm in a red zone. I can't afford another parking ticket. But--" said Vic then paused, chewing on his lower lip in a stance of recollection. He spotted the dog and his eyebrows raised in unison "YOU KILLED MY DOG!" he finished, shaking his right leg and loosening it up for what would most likely be the kick of a lifetime.
"But... but I'm a parking inspector," said Klenin, his face contorting to form the question mark that needed to be put at the end of this sentence but was left out in a fit of terror and a burning itch in his lower back.
"Hmmm..." went Vic.
"Look, if you let me up, I'll make sure you don't get a ticket. And any tickets you've gotten in the past that you haven't paid, I'll take care of..." said Klenin, some degree of professionalism crawling meekly back into his voice. "I'll even give you a calendar, a parking inspection calendar. You aren't supposed to have one if you aren't a parking inspector, but things being what they are, I think I could get you one," finished Klenin, rising to his feet slowly.
"That would be very, very nice. I haven't had a calendar in a long time, what do I need to count days for? I'm so lonely.... I hate life," said Vic as he belched loudly and then grimaced knowingly. "The irony," he said and Klenin laughed because he was not going to be killed.
"Why don't we go to the pet store and try and find you another pet? And then on the way back we can stop for a beer, and then I have some recipes that I was thinking of trying out," said Klenin, his radiant beam returning and casting him in an angelic mold.
"I think that would be a fine thing to do," said Vic, as he began to walk slowly towards the paved path that led to the car parking lot.
"What about your dog?" asked Klenin, not really sure of how to phrase that question. He thought it a bit more feeling than "what about this dog" or "what about this dead dog".
"Ah, he'll be alright. He's a smart dog," said Vic, smiling for the first time in a good ten minutes. "Yeah, we'll all be alright," added Klenin, as he bit into a nearby apple, choked and died.
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