Doom Dog

This started after a creative writing exercise, in which I was given a prompt and had to write something from it. I have some ideas on how to carry it on, but I probably won't end up finishing it for ages, so please comment and let me know what you think :)


“OMG! That is one heck of a massive poo! That must have been made by one heck of a massive dog!” the man cackled maniacally. “In fact, I would go so far as to say it was made by a WOLF!”

He stared with one eye down into the pit. The other eye glared off into the distance.

“Release the Wolfinator!!!!” he cried. Somewhere in the darkness of the pit, a groan of metal on metal echoed. It was the sound of rusty gates complaining as they were opened.

A low snarl rumbled through the hot, dusty air. Clank. Clank. Clank. The footsteps of something that sounded nothing like the silent predator they allegedly belonged to. From behind the man, a sudden  volley of barks erupted out of the silence. The man turned round, exasperated.


“Aaaaaand CUT!”

The tense atmosphere deflated. Several men clambered out of the pit. A short, camp-looking man spun around and pointed dramatically at the source of the barks.

“If the Wolfinator barks once more,” he flounced, “I will go into a sulk. And then the Wolfinator:  Bark in the Night will never be finished. Guys, I am giving you the chance to earn your Oscars. I mean, god, guys, you’re working with Jerome Horwith here. The most respected and renowned and – GOD!”

He stormed off. A crowd of groupies fluttered after him and plied him with water, chocolate and adoration as he threw himself into a chair marked ‘Director’.

The Wolfinator rolled onto his back and played dead. Unfortunately, he took the  intrepid heroine with him. She, like most heroines, was small and dainty. And now squashed in the mud.

After the heroine had been cleaned off, the Wolfinator rushed over and attempted to lick her hand in an apologetic gesture. Unfortunately, he just happened to lick her specially prepared ‘comfort food’ (a bacon sandwich) out of her hand. At this point, the heroine could take no more. The Wolfinator had been positively dogging her footsteps and she could take no more. She whipped her phone out of bag and furiously instructed her agent to call the director and terminate her contract RIGHT NOW.

Behind her, Jerome Horwith’s phone started to ring.     

The End

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