Firehouse Dog Page #3

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I did. I-I was.

You...

- ...going to.

- Right. Okay, take him home.

Make up a "found dog" flyer,

and I want it posted

first thing in the morning.

You got that?

Yeah.

[sighs]

[whimpers]

Nice, huh?

Enjoy it while it lasts.

[whimpers]

[whines]

What's the matter with you?

[barking]

Hey! Where are you going?!

Stop!

Are you crazy?! Get back here.

[whining]

[sneezes]

[whimpering]

[barking]

What?

What is your problem?

[whines]

[whines]

What?

[whines]

You are one strange dog.

Come on, mutt, look at me.

Stop moving. Hold still.

Hey.

No.

No... no...

Loser.

What are you doing?

No, no, everything has a place.

This is my house!

This is my room.

- Stop.

- [fabric tearing]

You're ripping it.

[ripping, tearing]

Let go!

[grunts]

[barks]

This is my house.

And this is my bed.

- [thud]

- [barking]

Night, mutt.

[low growling]

[grunting]:

You're probably not even lost.

They probably kicked your

crusty butt to the curb!

Fine.

Sleep well, fur ball, 'cause

tomorrow you're out of here.

[grunts]

[sighs]

[Rexxx snoring]

[snoring continues]

JOE:
Come on, rookie.

My grandmother can lay hose

straighter than that.

Yeah, she can also

bench press 350 pounds.

Hey, Shane!

PEP:
What's up, Shane?

Shanester!

How's it?

Keep it straight!

Keep it straight!

Okay, Captain, try it now.

[clicking]

Nothing.

This thing's a rat's nest.

Flyers are done.

Need the stapler.

Yeah, okay, well, take it easy.

We're running short

on just about everything.

Sit.

Sit.

He's not very friendly

for a dog, is he?

You don't know the half of it.

[on TV]:
This is Felicity Hammer

bringing you tragic news.

After a massive manhunt,

the search for missing superstar

Rexxx... has been called off.

- Tragically, the number one

- [curious whimper]

box office champ of

such films as Jurassic Bark

and its sequels

had just launched

his own pet perfume line.

The perfume, redolent of bacon,

squirrel and butt crack,

had taken the luxury

pet industry by storm.

Rexxx's lifetime companion,

manager Trey Falcon,

was unavailable for comment,

but inside sources

- report he has scheduled

- [barking]

a private memorial service

for later this month.

[barking]

Next up, Cher turns 60?

[chuckles] Stay tuned.

[whimpers]

[in distance]:
How 'bout now?!

Uh... no.

[howls forlornly]

Are all these red pins arson fires?

No, not officially.

According to the city.

But... that's the textile mill.

Yeah.

You think the fire that killed

Uncle Marc was set on purpose?

I don't know, um...

I mean, you see

the same flashover

and burn patterns again and again...

Uh... I don't know.

Maybe I could help.

You know, Shane, Shane...

don't worry about it;

it's just a theory.

Now, if you really

want to help,

you could find Dewey's owner, okay?

Yeah.

Okay.

[barking]

[indistinct chatter]

No, stop!

[barking]

[grunts]

If you don't stay in one place,

I can't get rid of you.

[barking continues]

[grunts]

[stapler clacking]

Fine.

Sit... stay, whatever

it takes to leave me alone.

[stapler clacking]

Look out!

[curious whimper]

[yelps and yaps]

[barks]

[gasps]

What are you, some kind

of freak-show circus dog?

[snarly barking]

So...

what else you got?

[siren wailing in distance]

[suspenseful

theme playing]

[ticking]

Ow!

[watches ticking]

[pop music playing]

[laughing]

[man singing rock]

Mikey, Max,

if you don't leave

your daddy alone, I'm gonna...

[growls]

[boys screaming]

[chuckling]

Works every time.

I heard that, Joe.

MOTHER:

Max, stop biting your little brother.

Thanks.

- [applause]

- All right, everybody, let's give it up

for Falstaff from

Shoreline Company C,

who's leaving his mark

on this course.

And while our volunteers

clean that up,

I want to bring up

the man whose company

has underwritten

this entire day for us.

Please give it up

for Mr. Corbin Sellars.

[cheering]

Thank you, Zach.

Don't applaud me.

I should be applauding you.

SELLARS [in distance]: Honestly...

Went down pretty hard in that

ladder climb competition.

Good thing you landed on your head.

[chuckling]:
Yeah.

[all laughing]

Yeah.

[mocking laughter]

SELLARS:

You know, when I was a pro ball player,

my coach had a quote

that he used before every game.

"It's not what lies before us..."

You know, I bet your brother's

looking down today and smiling.

- "It's what lies within us."

- Yep.

Yeah, nothing made Marc happier

than kicking Greenpoint's butt.

...all of you today...

[cheering]

But you didn't

come here to listen to some

old quarterback yammer.

So, next up... we have

Sparky of Greenpoint,

as he's handled by

Jasmine "J.J." Presley,

daughter of illustrious

Fire Captain Jessie Presley.

[cheering]

- Here we go.

- Come on, J.J.

[onlookers shouting]

Stay.

[horn blares]

[man singing rock]

Somebody should test

that dog for steroids.

[man singing rock fades]

- [cheering]

- [buzzer sounds]

And Sparky completes the course

in a record time of 44 seconds,

eclipsing the record set

last year

by Blue of Dogpatch Station.

Let's give him a hand,

ladies and gentlemen.

Aw, man!

Nice job, J.J.

That was awesome!

[cheering continues]

Let's get out of here, Captain.

Our, uh, our final competitor

is Dogpatch's own Dewey,

handled by Shane Fahey,

son of Captain Connor Fahey.

Shane?

And the "mutt from hell"?

[blues rock intro playing]

[man singing blues rock]

What? Come on.

What is that?

That all you got?

[man singing blues rock ends]

[onlookers laughing]

- Oh, come on!

- Nice mutt!

- Yeah!

- Dogpatch, you gotta be kidding me.

- Whoo!

- His legs are too short.

[laughs]

GIRL:
No chance!

[horn blares]

Go on, Dewey.

[cheering in distance]

Hey, don't trip, Fahey.

- Let's go, Dewey!

- Let's go, Dewey!

- Come on, Dewey!

- WOMAN:
You call that a dog?

MAN:
That dog's a mutt!

All right, all right!

Go, Dewey, yeah!

[man singing rock]

Dewey is beating Sparky's split

time by a full three seconds.

Oh, yeah, now what?!

Huh? Now what?

[whooping]

[clacking]

All right!

[whines]

Hold on, hold on.

Dewey's stopped right before

- the final obstacle.

- Dewey, what's wrong?

Dewey, jump!

Go!

[whining]

[man singing rock fades]

[echoing]:
Dewey? Dewey?

[whooshing]

[tango playing]

[men speaking French

in distance]

[sniffs]

[whines]

[whimpers, grunts]

[whining]

[low growl]

Get over it, dude.

She's not the only

babe on the beach.

[whines]

SHANE:
Dewey!

[buzzer sounds]

Game over, folks.

- Sparky and J.J. Presley win the dog challenge.

- No!

Man!

[cheering, whooping]

WOMAN:
Yes! Yes!

MAN:
How did that happen?

Oh, I'm so proud of you.

Thanks.

BURR:
Hey, yo, Dog Pound.

Hey, Connor.

Got some news about

your firehouse dog.

He's afraid of fire.

Last place- the mutt's

perfect for you guys.

Way to go, losers.

That was so... awesome.

Just the look on their faces

when they

thought they were gonna lose!

LIONEL:

Yeah, watching them sweat,

it's the best thing

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