View Full Version : Cabaret Dogs : The Return of Mutant Big-Toe, Chapter 11

06-21-2010, 05:11 PM

as of 9:08am EST there is no chapter 11!!!!!!!! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kp5HCDGJsvM)


06-21-2010, 05:17 PM
http://i495.photobucket.com/albums/rr317/cray_photos/thDancing_Banana.gif http://i495.photobucket.com/albums/rr317/cray_photos/thDancing_Banana.gif http://i495.photobucket.com/albums/rr317/cray_photos/thDancing_Banana.gif

06-21-2010, 07:20 PM
But where's the recipe?

06-21-2010, 07:25 PM
Oh, never mind. I found it. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vw6BzT1PnbA)

06-21-2010, 08:02 PM

did you ever just have one of those days where you think it's going to be a good one?
your expectations high?
only to be dashed to bits on the jagged rocks of ....

oh, nevermind. here's chapter 11;

Chapter 11 - In Which George, um, changes

Meanwhile, in a hidden bunker, deep below the Cabaret, a pale figure, bathed in sweat, lay writhing on the couch. Sister OFG tended to him, softly singing profane sea shanties, while occasionally wiping his forehead with a cool, damp cloth. The man didn't seem to be responding. Barack sat in an armchair next to the couch, watching the proceedings closely, while Haggis paced nearby.

"Are you sure George is going to be okay, Haggis?" asked Barack.

"Sure, sure. It'll just take some time is all."

"So what happened to him anyhow?

"Well, see, Sasha and Malia were petting me and rubbing my tummy, and I was really digging it, you know? I could see that George was getting jealous, but I never expected him to shove me out of the way so he could take my place."

"George did that? What did you do then?"

"What did I do? I bit him. What did you think I'd do? I mean, of course it's not like I meant to. It's just that my fang kind of accidentally nicked his jugular a couple of times."

"How many times?"


"I see. A simple mistake. I suppose you're worried about him catching distemper, then. Or kennel cough, or maybe worms or something?"

Haggis pondered whether he should tell Barack the whole truth, but then he realized a politician wouldn't recognize the truth if it bit him on the ass, so he went ahead with it.

"You really don't have a clue, do you? I'm undead. Undead. What part of undead don't you understand? Barack, George here is gonna be a were when he wakes up."

"A were?"

"That's right. The next time the moon is full, he'll change into an evil and frightening creature."

"You don't mean...."

"I'm afraid so. He’ll be morphing into Dick Cheney."

Behind them, from his spot on the couch, George moaned, "Braaaaaiiiiiinnnnnsssss, braaaaaiiiiiinnnnnsssss."

"You wish," said Haggis. "But you're a were, not a zombie, George. Weres howl."

"My bad, dawg," George mumbled. "Um, hoooooowwwWWWwwwwlllllllll."

"Good, good. Just, you know, save it until the next full moon, okay?"

Their conversation was interrupted by the MIDIfied tune of Who Let the Dogs Out on Haggis’s’s’ cell phone. He excused himself and stepped into the adjoining room.

"Yello," Haggis growled into the receiver.

Bak bak bak bak bak.

"Jaycinth! 'Sup my favorite fairy? I was just...what? Huh? What do you mean 'continuity error?' What the hell is a continuity error?”

Bak bak bak bak bak.

"What's that? Yes, I know you had all the characters in different places doing different things, and then when it came to this chapter I changed everything. So what? Who cares? It's not as if anyone's reading these things. And even if they did, they— “

Bak bak bak bak bak.

"No, see, I don't care. Look. I found a way to move the plot ahead. Yeah, really. Go with me on this, okay?

Bak bak bak BAAAAAAAAAK bak.

"Oh, yeah? Well, your wings are infested with moths."

Haggis slammed the phone shut and stormed back into the other room. George sat up on the couch, panting like a puppy and looking happy to see him.

“Freakin' fairy," said Haggis.

"The continuity errors?" said George. "I figured she'd get you on that eventually." He returned to chewing on his pillow.


It was just past the break of dawn on a windy Colorado morning when four strangers rode into town. CDaniel poked his head out the door of the Rusty Nail Saloon and wondered if he might be getting some new customers. Business had dropped off precipitously since the dancing girls took the stagecoach for San Francisco. Regdog was late to work yet again. He supposed he’d have to rustle up some grub for the travelers himself. It shouldn’t be this way, but at least it was something to do.

The strangers stopped outside the tavern, dismounted and tied their horses to the rail. Dan scurried into the kitchen and fired up the coffee pot.

“Now, remember, Dick…er…George. Tell him how much you love to hunt. From what I hear, this CDaniel fellow loves to hunt too, so you’ll have something in common. Then, when you go out hunting together, you can morph into Dick Cheney and shoot CDaniel in the face,” said Haggis.

“That’s right, George,” said Sister Stew. “I’ve equipped you with the time-period appropriate weapons too. You’ve got an 1875 Frontier 45 Colt, 5.5", and an authentic Winchester Model 1873 rifle, guaranteed to do the job.”

“Tell me again why I want to shoot this guy?”

“It’s not so much want to as need to, George. See, Dan’s tavern is cutting into Jaycinth’s profits. He’s got to go. Don’t you see?” said Sister OFG. “Besides, it’s not as if you’ll be doing it. Dick will take care of it for you once the full moon comes out. And, after all, you are used to having Dick take care of problems for you, right?”

The four pushed their way into the saloon, with Haggis in the lead. As he limped up to the bar, Haggis said, “I’m looking for the man what shot my Paw.”

“Didn’t you tell that lame joke the last time you came in here?” said Dan.

“Yeah, but it never gets old,” said Haggis.

The four of them filled up on bacon, eggs and something that passed for coffee. It was time for the plan to commence. Haggis, Sister Stew and Sister OFG took their leave after wishing George good luck. The left through the saloon’s double doors, then mounted up and headed out of town. But not before Sister OFG left a silver bullet on the bar.

One down. Way too many left to go. But it was a start.

06-21-2010, 10:30 PM

06-21-2010, 11:27 PM

that seemed a little forced.

06-21-2010, 11:29 PM
that seemed a little forced.

Am I that transparent?

06-22-2010, 03:56 AM
NOw, this I can understand...and undead western with zombies.

Cray, you have finally hit on the winning equation.