Oh but in the eyes of God, we said our vows before the pews~

[french_braid]

DATE: Day 57
CHARACTER(S): Bob hailhydra, Pip Bernadotte french_braid
STATUS: Incomplete/Closed
SUMMARY: Directly after this thread, Pip decides that it's time to stop talking to the bottom of the bed and start talking to. A puppy. Well, okay, Pip.
LOCATION: Cabin 402

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[hailhydra]

The howl that escaped the decidedly puppy-esque henchman was something somewhere between unholy and infinitely pathetic as he was abruptly yanked out from under the safety of the bed, claws scrabbling on the floor as he failed to find purchase. He turned wide, terrified eyes on the man that currently had an iron grip on the scruff of his neck. There wasn't much he could do in this form--not that he could have done anything as a human either--save dangle there and whimper for mercy.

Well, at least the scenario was rather familiar, even if Pip looked like a very frighteningly calm giant right now.

"I could see just fine under the bed, thank you anyway!" he yelped; he realized then that, oh, he was very doomed.

[french_braid]

Pip ignored Bob's desperate attempt at getting off the hook and spun around, holding Bob out so that he could stare directly at the floor. Sitting there was a happy pile of fluff and stuff that had once been the innards of a pillow. He jerked Bob in the other direction, indicating another pile of fluffy white pillow guts. Then he brought the scared little puppy to face level, staring at him with a very serious mad-owner expression.

And then he said the words that was ingrained in every puppy to fear.

"Who did that."

It wasn't a question. At this point, everyone (even God) knew who had done it. It was a pointless question that a master said to a naughty doggy so that they were aware they had done something terribly, terribly wrong.

[hailhydra]

Swinging around was an unpleasant sort of thing for someone as small as Bob was currently, and his eyes crossed briefly as he was forced to see the pillows he'd eviscerated. Perhaps, in hindsight, he should have dragged them under the bed first. Or, even more reasonably, not succumbed to the absolutely irrational urge to destroy their wonderful plush goodness.

"You don't understand!" he whined when they were face-to-face. He knew that voice, that was the voice that was used when Deadpool was being particularly frightening, and didn't even recognize it as a human-to-puppy thing. Paws pulled up close to him, tail tucked between his legs, he shook in terror. "They were so fluffy."

This was only going to get worse, wasn't it?

[french_braid]

It was so cute and Pip was almost tempted to just let Bob off the hook after all. He was just so pathetic that Pip wasn't sure he had the heart to even stay mad. And then he looked at the pillows again and growled, giving Bob a good shake.

"Zis is not ze point. You are bad dog, Bob, you do not do zese zings, NON." He gave Bob another shake. He couldn't feel bad for Bob. He was a puppy right now and he needed to learn not to chew on things. If Bob remained a puppy for any longer, he'd need this sort of training.

By now, Pip had worked up his anger again and was now glaring at Bob so hard that he could have probably killed him with just his eyes (eye) if it had been possible.

"Do you 'ear me? NON. Do not do zis again!"

[hailhydra]

Was there something like Shaken Puppy Syndrome?

The puppy that was Bob whimpered as he was jarred and scolded, and it seemed that puppy eyes did not work on his absolutely terrifying roommate. If nothing else, he was never going to chew on anything ever again. Even if he was stuck like that forever, never again.

But, apparently, a combination of being so frightened, so tiny, and a puppy led to one other complication. Though he was rather proud to say that it had never happened before, bladder control abruptly became something that failed him.

With spectacular aim.

He was going to die.