Denzel
Denzel was a dog. He was a nice brown
dog who loved to play. Running after his ball was fun. Everybody loved Denzel
until it happened. The Neo Soviet leader, Putin The Dog, went mad. Cabin fever
was rife in Russia. Vlad had a triple dose.
Someone photo-shopped a photo of a man
in a suit. His head was a dog. A cute brown dog who looked like Denzel. Why did
they do it? To create chaos and war and have a pop at Putin.
Everyone who saw Denzel when he was out
walking pointed, persecuted and pounced. Denzel was nearly killed. His left leg
was broken. All because he was a cute brown dog with small eyes.
Putin had similar eyes but his were
malicious, crafty and selfish. They spoke of insanity, empire building and
unfinished business. Denzel's eyes were warm, loving and alive.
He was a dog who wanted to be left alone.
There was little chance of that. Not a war mongering bastard. The PS'ed photo
went viral. Denzel's owner was ran down and killed, their house was fire
bombed.
Denzel limped off into the forest, his
brown coat scorched. A rabid group hunted him down. Were they mad? He was a dog
for fuck sake. Not Putin The Dog who wanted a new empire at all costs.
But Denzel was smart. He went to ground.
He'd elude the madmen and then go after the biggest madman of all. Putin The
Dog. Denzel was beyond mad. First the photo, then the murder of his owner,
losing his home, being hunted.
Yes, Denzel the brown spaniel would get
even. Especially with Putin The Dog. It was all his fault.
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