October 19th 2004 11:49 am
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It is I, PIT Tasselhoff Burfoot C.G.C (grand name, isn't it?) reporting in on my slave training duties. Last night I had an episode with my slave that required
immediate training. In order to understand what happened you must first know how I have my slave trained to feed me. At all times there is a bowl of dog food available for me and my little brother Fizban to dine on at our pleasure. Then, when the mom-slave comes home at night she cooks bacon ends and puts the bacon and the grease on a smaller bowl of dog food for each of us.
Well, last night the mom-slave got LAZY and tried to put beef gravy on the dog food instead of cooking bacon. I don't know what she was thinking, obviously she wasn't thinking at all!! She knows I DO NOT LIKE GRAVY, I have NEVER LIKED GRAVY, I will NOT, EAT GRAVY, it smells like the green peppers she puts in the roast when she cooks it, YUCK, YUCK, YUCK. The mom-slave thought she could fool me by putting a little bit of roast beef on top of the gravy, thinking if she just got me started I would eat the food with the gravy on it. Hmphh, what a stupid mom-slave I have, I would never fall for that. Of course I just picked the meat off the top and left the rest.
Then the mom-slave went downstairs and stared at the box, mumbling
something that sounded suspicously like "you'll eat it if you get hungry enough." Of all the nerve! So after hours and hours and hours and hours and hours (you get the idea) of not eating and giving mom The Look, she finally relented. She went back upstairs and threw out the dog food covered in gravy (Fiz, didn't eat his either, I told him he better not or we would never get the slave properly trained). Yippee!!, time for bacon right? NO! The LAZY, LAZY slave opened up two cans of CANNED DOG FOOD and gave each of us one. CANNED DOG FOOD?? Not only was it canned dog food, but ONE MEASLY LITTLE CAN?? How is a hound to survive!! Well I ate the canned dog food, I was, at this point, close to wasting away from starvation. But, I knew that my slave needed some serious training, this kind of thing simply could not be allowed.
So I waited until 2:30 am. It was easy to do, my little brother, Fiz, snores and keeps me awake all night anyway, but the mom-slave was sound asleep. First I went to the kitchen and got a mouth full of the dry dog food and took it to the hallway and spit it out all over the carpet. After all plain, dry, dog food is ok for nibbling on in the middle of the day but is not a true food source. Besides, I wanted to make sure the mom-slave was totally aware of the error of her ways. Then I went back to the kitchen sat down next to the food dishes and started to cry at the top of my lungs until the mom-slave woke up. After she stepped on the dog food in the hallway and yelped (serves her right, GRAVY??) she came in to see what the problem was (at least she remembered that part of her training). As soon as she turned on the light I started slamming the small, EMPTY, dog dish against the base of the counter with my nose. The mom-slave finally realized she was not going to get away with this and did what she should have done to begin with, she cooked bacon. If she had just done it when she came home she wouldn't have had to do it at 2:30 in the morning. I bet it will be a while before she tries to pass off gravy on me again!! Sigh,,, slave training is such hard work!!
PIT Tasselhoff Burrfoot C.G.C
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