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Just Oozed In
A Thursday Prompt story
© 2022 by Walter Reimer
Inspired by
EOCostello
With
Major Matt Mason, 
tegerio, 
MercMarten, and 
steamfox
Based on the Just Rolled In You Tube channel
Prompt: dripping
Thumbnail art by Major Matt Mason
Howard slowed his car to a relative crawl and hit his emergency flashers as he craned his neck around, looking for some sign that he was close to his destination. He’d been told that the place was on Route 1, just outside of Arkham, east of the University and on the way to Innsmouth . . . there!
The hound breathed a sigh of relief as a big sign reading Bubba's Gas, Lube and Otherworldly Fixits appeared, with a large gray-painted building and a series of gas pumps below the billboard. He switched off the flashers, switched on the blinkers and pulled into the parking lot, headed straight for one of the service bays.
A burly bear in greasy coveralls came out, wiping his paws on an oily rag as Howard got out and moved a few steps away. “Morning,” the bear said laconically. “What can I do for ya?”
“Um, well, good morning,” the hound said. “My car’s . . . “ He glanced nervously at the late-model Proteus all-electric car, and lowered his voice. “It says it wants something.”
“Yeah?”
“But not electricity.”
“Uh huh.” The bear stepped over to the car, sat down behind the steering wheel and poked the car’s data screen with a meaty finger. It lit up and he drew a circle, waiting a few seconds before adding a few symbols inside the circle.
The car’s reaction was immediate; every light and display started flickering, accompanied by an eerie electronic wailing that sounded like it was playing every channel on the radio at once.
The bear nodded, got out of the car, and walked over to Howard. “You got a succubus in your car’s battery stack.”
“I – I do?!”
The bear nodded. “We’ll get it outta there, cost you fifty dollars.”
“That’ll be fine! I just don’t want my wife getting near it.”
“Oh?”
“It’s been threatening her.”
“Yeah, you’d expect that with succubi. Just leave it there, and we’ll take care of it. Jack!” A weedy-looking feline came out, scratching himself. “Got an exorcism for you.”
“What is it?” the feline asked in a raspy, sibilant voice.
“Succubus.”
“God,” the feline grumbled, “not another one . . . “ he went back into the service bay.
“’Another one?’” Howard asked.
The bear nodded. “Yeah. Getting them more and more with these electric cars. Name’s Bubba, by the way; you can go take a seat in the waiting room.”
“Er, right. Thanks,” and Howard headed for the service station’s waiting area.
***
Video:
The camera pans across the front of the late-model sedan, dipping briefly to give the viewer a quick look to see if there are any leaking fluids.
"Customer came in regarding an oil change, and didn't mention what was in the backseat . . . "
A hideous creature with too many eyes and mouths in surprising places is crouched in the foot well of the left passenger seat. It glares at the mechanic filming the clip, and hisses in quadrophonic stereo.
***
Leaving his car to the tender mercies of the feline mechanic, Howard trudged disconsolately to the waiting area. As he walked, he took a look at what was going on in the service bays.
One canine wearing a Roman collar over his grimy coveralls was laying his paws on a Fnord truck whose steering wheel was spinning madly by itself while the vehicle rocked from side to side. The mechanic dipped a finger in motor oil, sketched a cross on the hood and declared, "By the power of Henry Ford, I command thee to LEAVE this truck!"
The truck lurched from one side to the other on its shocks as a wail was heard coming from the engine compartment. To Howard’s amazement, the truck quieted down and the canine mechanic crossed himself.
There were signs on the walls, with one reading We Also Do Exorcisms, along with various auto care manuals bound in stained leather and secured to the walls with stout metal chains. A shadow board bore what might charitably be described as tools, but Howard doubted that metal was supposed to bend that way.
One of the three inspection bays bore the sign Abandon Warranty Coverage, All Ye Who Enter Here.
Shaking his head, Howard went past a sign that read
and entered the waiting room.
***
Video:
The camera pans across the underside of a sharp-looking two-door sports car, focusing on a drizzle of something liquid, green and corrosive-looking coming from the engine and pooling on the concrete, where it fizzes.
"Customer came in stating that there are unworldly screams coming from the engine, along with ichor dripping from the head gasket."
The person holding the camera taps on the engine block with a wrench; whatever is inside the engine taps back.
“Fortunately, Fnord has a recall notice out for this sort of thing. It seems that they built the factory for this model over a rift.”
***
An exhausted looking worker reached into a battered soda cooler and pulled out a bottle as Howard entered the only slightly dingy waiting area. The bear the hound had met earlier came in, walked over, and confronted the younger ursine. “You okay, Tom?”
Tom shuddered and shook his head.
"You went and looked into Bay 3, did ya?”
A shaky nod from the young bear.
Bubba put a meaty finger up to Tom’s face. “You’re a fool, Tom. The obscuring darkness has spared your sanity this time, but don’t count on it happening twice! Now, get over to Bay Two and help Jimmy with drawing that warding circle.” The younger man, clinging to his bottle of soda as if it was his only link to the real world, left the waiting area and Bubba muttered, “Last time I do a favor for my sister – oh, hello sir,” he said to Howard. “I’m afraid we’ve found another issue with your Proteus.”
The hound gulped. “Wh-What’s that?”
“Well,” the bear said, “Jack’s already chased the succubus out of the battery pack and put a Purity Seal around the power inlet. Shouldn’t have any more trouble with that, but then we put it on the computer to check the car’s systems.”
“And?”
“We had to look through your car’s service manual, and consulted Tobin's Spirit Guide to interpret the readout.” He cocked an eye at the nervous hound. “Been having trouble accelerating and slowing down?”
Howard raised his ears in surprise. “How did you know?”
“You’ve got gremlins in the regenerative braking,” Bubba replied.
“Are they hard to get rid of?”
“Not usually, but my balalaika player quit last year, moved to Louisiana. We’ll try to get them out using a recording. If that doesn’t work, we’ll give the dealership a call. Either way, it’ll cost more than the fifty I quoted for the succubus.”
Howard thought it over before nodding. “Okay.”
“Good. Help yourself to some coffee, and I’ll come talk to you.” The bear went back into the service area, the door closing to shut off an inhuman squeal accompanied by a hoarse male voice chanting words that made Howard’s ears itch.
Howard stepped over to the woman behind the counter. “Excuse me,” he asked, “but do I need to pay for a coffee?”
The middle-aged wolfess smiled. “No, sir, it’s complimentary. It’s Kopi Khthuluwak Coffee Blend.”
“Oh. Is it a dark roast?"
"So dark, it's ELDRITCH!" the lupine said with a slightly manic grin and a thousand-yard stare that seemed to be fixed on a point just past Howard’s left shoulder.
The hound glanced behind him, saw nothing, and walked over to the coffee maker.
A small sign bearing a circular logo that had what looked like a stylized octopus in the center sat beside the carafe, with the ad slogan: So good, it'll drive you MAD!"
The coffee in the carafe bubbled slightly, and Howard shrugged.
Maybe a cup would help steady his nerves.
***
Video:
“Customer came in and said that he was having engine trouble.”
The camera pans up to show the mechanic removing the crankcase oil plug. Nothing comes out. The video cuts to show a Circle chalked on the concrete, with a variety of Elder Signs arranged around the perimeter. The camera pans back up to show the mechanic loosening the last bolt holding the crankcase cover to the engine.
“The mechanic suspected that there was a shoggoth hiding in the crankcase, and took precautions.”
The cover falls free, hitting the concrete with a clang and revealing what looks like a dense block of gray gelatin. An eye opens on the block, which closes again as the mechanic pokes it with a cold-iron wrench. With a sound like a whoopee cushion blattering in a mud pit, the shoggoth falls out of the engine, lands in the Circle and begins deliquescing immediately.
“The problem was then banished back to its home dimension without further problems.”
***
The coffee was pretty good, although a little bite-y for his taste.
Howard sat down to wait, cradling the Styrofoam cup of coffee in his paws. Various advertising signs decorated the waiting area, including one for a familiar tire brand that bore a small pentagram near the logo in much the same way that a kosher food item would have a small circled ‘K’ on the package.
Another sign assured customers that Bubba’s specialized in British Leyland and FIAT vehicles from the 1970s. It could have been a joke, but it looked like it had been on the wall for years. Behind the receptionist was a wall calendar; Howard hadn’t been able to quite make out what the pinup girl looked like until he’d had half a cup of coffee.
He thought the model looked very pretty, in a multi-armed sort of way.
A stack of old auto magazines and some dated auto repair manuals were stacked on a side table and after finishing his coffee the hound plucked a book from the pile and started to read it. The book was published by a well-known company’s Dark Arts Division.
He couldn’t understand most of it, and the illustrations were more than a little off-putting.
***
Video:
“Customer came in, gibbering and kept repeating, ‘IA! HE RISES!’ An emissions check was run for carbon dioxide, hydrogen sulfide, effluvia and ectoplasm, and the technician discovered that someone had written Gateway Runes on the dirty trunk lid. They only showed up under ultraviolet light.”
Camera shows a heavily pixelated, glowing smear across the trunk of the car.
“Customer refused service, and was devoured.”
Camera pans across the fuel pumps; there is regular, premium, diesel, as well as something written in an obscure and half-forgotten language.
***
“Come on down to Bubba’s, on Route 1 in Arkham, just off the Miskatonic Freeway. Tell ‘em Dagon sent ya!” The radio ad ended with a sprightly piece of music as the radio segued into Strange Fog by the Slurping Horrors. The band was cutting a broad swath through the Boston music scene. Howard’s tail swayed in time to the music as he sipped at the remainder of his coffee, noticing that the radio was playing despite not being plugged in.
Two other customers, both elderly deer, had been sitting off to one side talking. One suddenly declared, "These out-of-state drivers don't know nothin’!"
"Is not knowing anything good or bad?" his companion asked
The first deer snorted. "Knowin' nothin' is just as bad as knowin' too much! Both'll land ya in a heap o’ trouble."
“Now, Bill,” the receptionist said, “You know perfectly well that not knowing anything can protect you. Especially around here.”
The two bucks looked at her and acknowledged the truth of her statement. The younger of the two deer coughed and said, “I hear tell that Bubba's is goin’ to be open 24/7.”
“Why the heck is Bubba cuttin’ back the hours?” the first buck asked querulously.
***
Video:
The camera shows a split screen, a technician turning the steering wheel while the wheels move in the opposite direction.
"Customer states they have an uncanny feeling while sitting behind the wheel."
Cut to the car up on the lift in one of the service bays; the camera pans over the underside of the front end, showing heavily rusted and corroded marks eating deeply into the steel, as if claws had been at work.
The technician is shown drawing a design in motor oil on the floor around the car. “The technician was muttering ‘The angles, the angles were wrong,’ and determined that Yog-spawn were infesting the front suspension. If left alone, they would end up eating through the steel."
Bubba's mechanic makes motions with his paws, having the car parked over a design drawn in the oil on the floor. He starts chanting, and with a series of shrieks the misshapen young disappear.
"The technician was able to banish them, but it will still take a lot of work to replace the front suspension."
***
“So, it’s all done?” Howard asked an hour later.
“Yes, sir,” Bubba replied, pointing to the piece of paper on the counter. “Right there’s the cost for banishing the succubus, and there’s getting rid of the gremlins,” and the bear pointed at another line item. “With labor and everything, that’ll come to three-fifty.”
The hound looked relieved as he fished his wallet from a back pocket. “Will I have to bring the car back for anything?”
“If you have anything out of the ordinary, sure,” Bubba said as Howard gave his credit card to the receptionist.
The company’s tow truck, with strange gear and weirdly-shaped, blackened steel tools strapped to its sides, rattled past as Howard left the reception area and walked to his car. He held his breath as he passed the key fob over the start button and sighed in relief as all of the systems powered up without any of the odd voices or weird chanting that he had heard earlier.
Money well spent.
He switched on the radio and a car dealership ad came on. “ - ven on Fridays by a little old lady from Innsmouth. Well, at least I think it was a lady. It was little and old, at any rate."
Howard shook his head, the hound heading for the street, only to slam on the brakes as a group of nearly twenty furs, a mixture of bovines, goats and sheep, ran right past the nose of his car.
The hound stuck his head out the window. “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted, noticing that they were all wearing shirts saying that they were members of the Greater Innsmouth Long Distance Runners Society. “I’ll call the cops!”
One bull shouted back, “You can't prosecute us for stampeding! We have Herd Immunity!”
***
Video:
Camera follows a car moving of its own volition, chasing a screaming teenaged canine around the vacant lot beside Bubba’s.
“Customer brought this vintage car in, stating that it was possessed by Satan. The mechanic said that the exorcism would take almost a week . . . “
end
A Thursday Prompt story
© 2022 by Walter Reimer
Inspired by
EOCostelloWith
Major Matt Mason, 
tegerio, 
MercMarten, and 
steamfoxBased on the Just Rolled In You Tube channel
Prompt: dripping
Thumbnail art by
Major Matt MasonHoward slowed his car to a relative crawl and hit his emergency flashers as he craned his neck around, looking for some sign that he was close to his destination. He’d been told that the place was on Route 1, just outside of Arkham, east of the University and on the way to Innsmouth . . . there!
The hound breathed a sigh of relief as a big sign reading Bubba's Gas, Lube and Otherworldly Fixits appeared, with a large gray-painted building and a series of gas pumps below the billboard. He switched off the flashers, switched on the blinkers and pulled into the parking lot, headed straight for one of the service bays.
A burly bear in greasy coveralls came out, wiping his paws on an oily rag as Howard got out and moved a few steps away. “Morning,” the bear said laconically. “What can I do for ya?”
“Um, well, good morning,” the hound said. “My car’s . . . “ He glanced nervously at the late-model Proteus all-electric car, and lowered his voice. “It says it wants something.”
“Yeah?”
“But not electricity.”
“Uh huh.” The bear stepped over to the car, sat down behind the steering wheel and poked the car’s data screen with a meaty finger. It lit up and he drew a circle, waiting a few seconds before adding a few symbols inside the circle.
The car’s reaction was immediate; every light and display started flickering, accompanied by an eerie electronic wailing that sounded like it was playing every channel on the radio at once.
The bear nodded, got out of the car, and walked over to Howard. “You got a succubus in your car’s battery stack.”
“I – I do?!”
The bear nodded. “We’ll get it outta there, cost you fifty dollars.”
“That’ll be fine! I just don’t want my wife getting near it.”
“Oh?”
“It’s been threatening her.”
“Yeah, you’d expect that with succubi. Just leave it there, and we’ll take care of it. Jack!” A weedy-looking feline came out, scratching himself. “Got an exorcism for you.”
“What is it?” the feline asked in a raspy, sibilant voice.
“Succubus.”
“God,” the feline grumbled, “not another one . . . “ he went back into the service bay.
“’Another one?’” Howard asked.
The bear nodded. “Yeah. Getting them more and more with these electric cars. Name’s Bubba, by the way; you can go take a seat in the waiting room.”
“Er, right. Thanks,” and Howard headed for the service station’s waiting area.
***
Video:
The camera pans across the front of the late-model sedan, dipping briefly to give the viewer a quick look to see if there are any leaking fluids.
"Customer came in regarding an oil change, and didn't mention what was in the backseat . . . "
A hideous creature with too many eyes and mouths in surprising places is crouched in the foot well of the left passenger seat. It glares at the mechanic filming the clip, and hisses in quadrophonic stereo.
***
Leaving his car to the tender mercies of the feline mechanic, Howard trudged disconsolately to the waiting area. As he walked, he took a look at what was going on in the service bays.
One canine wearing a Roman collar over his grimy coveralls was laying his paws on a Fnord truck whose steering wheel was spinning madly by itself while the vehicle rocked from side to side. The mechanic dipped a finger in motor oil, sketched a cross on the hood and declared, "By the power of Henry Ford, I command thee to LEAVE this truck!"
The truck lurched from one side to the other on its shocks as a wail was heard coming from the engine compartment. To Howard’s amazement, the truck quieted down and the canine mechanic crossed himself.
There were signs on the walls, with one reading We Also Do Exorcisms, along with various auto care manuals bound in stained leather and secured to the walls with stout metal chains. A shadow board bore what might charitably be described as tools, but Howard doubted that metal was supposed to bend that way.
One of the three inspection bays bore the sign Abandon Warranty Coverage, All Ye Who Enter Here.
Shaking his head, Howard went past a sign that read
Bubba’s takes cash, bitcoin, Paypal
All major credit cards accepted
Unblemished lambs, blood, jewels? We can talk!and entered the waiting room.
***
Video:
The camera pans across the underside of a sharp-looking two-door sports car, focusing on a drizzle of something liquid, green and corrosive-looking coming from the engine and pooling on the concrete, where it fizzes.
"Customer came in stating that there are unworldly screams coming from the engine, along with ichor dripping from the head gasket."
The person holding the camera taps on the engine block with a wrench; whatever is inside the engine taps back.
“Fortunately, Fnord has a recall notice out for this sort of thing. It seems that they built the factory for this model over a rift.”
***
An exhausted looking worker reached into a battered soda cooler and pulled out a bottle as Howard entered the only slightly dingy waiting area. The bear the hound had met earlier came in, walked over, and confronted the younger ursine. “You okay, Tom?”
Tom shuddered and shook his head.
"You went and looked into Bay 3, did ya?”
A shaky nod from the young bear.
Bubba put a meaty finger up to Tom’s face. “You’re a fool, Tom. The obscuring darkness has spared your sanity this time, but don’t count on it happening twice! Now, get over to Bay Two and help Jimmy with drawing that warding circle.” The younger man, clinging to his bottle of soda as if it was his only link to the real world, left the waiting area and Bubba muttered, “Last time I do a favor for my sister – oh, hello sir,” he said to Howard. “I’m afraid we’ve found another issue with your Proteus.”
The hound gulped. “Wh-What’s that?”
“Well,” the bear said, “Jack’s already chased the succubus out of the battery pack and put a Purity Seal around the power inlet. Shouldn’t have any more trouble with that, but then we put it on the computer to check the car’s systems.”
“And?”
“We had to look through your car’s service manual, and consulted Tobin's Spirit Guide to interpret the readout.” He cocked an eye at the nervous hound. “Been having trouble accelerating and slowing down?”
Howard raised his ears in surprise. “How did you know?”
“You’ve got gremlins in the regenerative braking,” Bubba replied.
“Are they hard to get rid of?”
“Not usually, but my balalaika player quit last year, moved to Louisiana. We’ll try to get them out using a recording. If that doesn’t work, we’ll give the dealership a call. Either way, it’ll cost more than the fifty I quoted for the succubus.”
Howard thought it over before nodding. “Okay.”
“Good. Help yourself to some coffee, and I’ll come talk to you.” The bear went back into the service area, the door closing to shut off an inhuman squeal accompanied by a hoarse male voice chanting words that made Howard’s ears itch.
Howard stepped over to the woman behind the counter. “Excuse me,” he asked, “but do I need to pay for a coffee?”
The middle-aged wolfess smiled. “No, sir, it’s complimentary. It’s Kopi Khthuluwak Coffee Blend.”
“Oh. Is it a dark roast?"
"So dark, it's ELDRITCH!" the lupine said with a slightly manic grin and a thousand-yard stare that seemed to be fixed on a point just past Howard’s left shoulder.
The hound glanced behind him, saw nothing, and walked over to the coffee maker.
A small sign bearing a circular logo that had what looked like a stylized octopus in the center sat beside the carafe, with the ad slogan: So good, it'll drive you MAD!"
The coffee in the carafe bubbled slightly, and Howard shrugged.
Maybe a cup would help steady his nerves.
***
Video:
“Customer came in and said that he was having engine trouble.”
The camera pans up to show the mechanic removing the crankcase oil plug. Nothing comes out. The video cuts to show a Circle chalked on the concrete, with a variety of Elder Signs arranged around the perimeter. The camera pans back up to show the mechanic loosening the last bolt holding the crankcase cover to the engine.
“The mechanic suspected that there was a shoggoth hiding in the crankcase, and took precautions.”
The cover falls free, hitting the concrete with a clang and revealing what looks like a dense block of gray gelatin. An eye opens on the block, which closes again as the mechanic pokes it with a cold-iron wrench. With a sound like a whoopee cushion blattering in a mud pit, the shoggoth falls out of the engine, lands in the Circle and begins deliquescing immediately.
“The problem was then banished back to its home dimension without further problems.”
***
The coffee was pretty good, although a little bite-y for his taste.
Howard sat down to wait, cradling the Styrofoam cup of coffee in his paws. Various advertising signs decorated the waiting area, including one for a familiar tire brand that bore a small pentagram near the logo in much the same way that a kosher food item would have a small circled ‘K’ on the package.
Another sign assured customers that Bubba’s specialized in British Leyland and FIAT vehicles from the 1970s. It could have been a joke, but it looked like it had been on the wall for years. Behind the receptionist was a wall calendar; Howard hadn’t been able to quite make out what the pinup girl looked like until he’d had half a cup of coffee.
He thought the model looked very pretty, in a multi-armed sort of way.
A stack of old auto magazines and some dated auto repair manuals were stacked on a side table and after finishing his coffee the hound plucked a book from the pile and started to read it. The book was published by a well-known company’s Dark Arts Division.
He couldn’t understand most of it, and the illustrations were more than a little off-putting.
***
Video:
“Customer came in, gibbering and kept repeating, ‘IA! HE RISES!’ An emissions check was run for carbon dioxide, hydrogen sulfide, effluvia and ectoplasm, and the technician discovered that someone had written Gateway Runes on the dirty trunk lid. They only showed up under ultraviolet light.”
Camera shows a heavily pixelated, glowing smear across the trunk of the car.
“Customer refused service, and was devoured.”
Camera pans across the fuel pumps; there is regular, premium, diesel, as well as something written in an obscure and half-forgotten language.
***
“Come on down to Bubba’s, on Route 1 in Arkham, just off the Miskatonic Freeway. Tell ‘em Dagon sent ya!” The radio ad ended with a sprightly piece of music as the radio segued into Strange Fog by the Slurping Horrors. The band was cutting a broad swath through the Boston music scene. Howard’s tail swayed in time to the music as he sipped at the remainder of his coffee, noticing that the radio was playing despite not being plugged in.
Two other customers, both elderly deer, had been sitting off to one side talking. One suddenly declared, "These out-of-state drivers don't know nothin’!"
"Is not knowing anything good or bad?" his companion asked
The first deer snorted. "Knowin' nothin' is just as bad as knowin' too much! Both'll land ya in a heap o’ trouble."
“Now, Bill,” the receptionist said, “You know perfectly well that not knowing anything can protect you. Especially around here.”
The two bucks looked at her and acknowledged the truth of her statement. The younger of the two deer coughed and said, “I hear tell that Bubba's is goin’ to be open 24/7.”
“Why the heck is Bubba cuttin’ back the hours?” the first buck asked querulously.
***
Video:
The camera shows a split screen, a technician turning the steering wheel while the wheels move in the opposite direction.
"Customer states they have an uncanny feeling while sitting behind the wheel."
Cut to the car up on the lift in one of the service bays; the camera pans over the underside of the front end, showing heavily rusted and corroded marks eating deeply into the steel, as if claws had been at work.
The technician is shown drawing a design in motor oil on the floor around the car. “The technician was muttering ‘The angles, the angles were wrong,’ and determined that Yog-spawn were infesting the front suspension. If left alone, they would end up eating through the steel."
Bubba's mechanic makes motions with his paws, having the car parked over a design drawn in the oil on the floor. He starts chanting, and with a series of shrieks the misshapen young disappear.
"The technician was able to banish them, but it will still take a lot of work to replace the front suspension."
***
“So, it’s all done?” Howard asked an hour later.
“Yes, sir,” Bubba replied, pointing to the piece of paper on the counter. “Right there’s the cost for banishing the succubus, and there’s getting rid of the gremlins,” and the bear pointed at another line item. “With labor and everything, that’ll come to three-fifty.”
The hound looked relieved as he fished his wallet from a back pocket. “Will I have to bring the car back for anything?”
“If you have anything out of the ordinary, sure,” Bubba said as Howard gave his credit card to the receptionist.
The company’s tow truck, with strange gear and weirdly-shaped, blackened steel tools strapped to its sides, rattled past as Howard left the reception area and walked to his car. He held his breath as he passed the key fob over the start button and sighed in relief as all of the systems powered up without any of the odd voices or weird chanting that he had heard earlier.
Money well spent.
He switched on the radio and a car dealership ad came on. “ - ven on Fridays by a little old lady from Innsmouth. Well, at least I think it was a lady. It was little and old, at any rate."
Howard shook his head, the hound heading for the street, only to slam on the brakes as a group of nearly twenty furs, a mixture of bovines, goats and sheep, ran right past the nose of his car.
The hound stuck his head out the window. “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted, noticing that they were all wearing shirts saying that they were members of the Greater Innsmouth Long Distance Runners Society. “I’ll call the cops!”
One bull shouted back, “You can't prosecute us for stampeding! We have Herd Immunity!”
***
Video:
Camera follows a car moving of its own volition, chasing a screaming teenaged canine around the vacant lot beside Bubba’s.
“Customer brought this vintage car in, stating that it was possessed by Satan. The mechanic said that the exorcism would take almost a week . . . “
end
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Canine (Other)
Size 1280 x 1187px
File Size 145.7 kB
Listed in Folders
Did a breeze blow your calendar back to Oct 31st?
Fitting tale though, as I went out to feed the cats and found that the local raccoons had figured out how to open the old refrigerator I keep the cat food in. And being raccoons they had to tear up everything they could get their paws on!
Fitting tale though, as I went out to feed the cats and found that the local raccoons had figured out how to open the old refrigerator I keep the cat food in. And being raccoons they had to tear up everything they could get their paws on!
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