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So why do they call it a Catwalk?....Here’s Doggy Fashion

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So why do they call it a Catwalk?....Here’s Doggy Fashion Empty So why do they call it a Catwalk?....Here’s Doggy Fashion

Post  Boz1964 Sun Apr 12, 2020 1:17 am

Dodgy Fashion


He strode around the Gellideg Estate as if he owned it.

His fur all sticking up in the air , the after effects of being blown dry by a hairdryer from his latch-key kid owner.

„Flob‟ the Pit Bull Terrier was hard ...well hard.... as he strutted his stuff around his Swansea Road manor hunting for cats, other dogs and small children to fight.

This dog was the only punk dog in existence in Merthyr , and his spiked metal collar was a warning to all creatures and humans to give him a wide berth.

Addicted to crack cocaine, since he was injected as a pup, he was not one to be reasoned with.

He was fed on a diet of rent collectors, postmen and social workers by his overlord gang.

He was one tough „son of a bitch‟ and took no prisoners.

As he lifted his leg on the prized conifer of the owner of 52 Heol Tai Mawr, he snarled menacingly at his wife as she hung out the washing behind a five foot breezeblock wall.

He then squatted down on his hind legs and curled out an orange turd strategically positioned so that the Post Office „giro‟ customers would tread in it in their £100.00 Nike Jordan white trainers.  

Watching for people foolish enough to put out their rubbish in black bags (because their Council wheelie bin had been stolen or used as an impromptu go-kart by the local vandals) he stood menacingly as the collection lorry passed by.

Those bin-men knew not to be on ground level when the Swansea Road equivalent of a komodo dragon was sniffing around.

He had bitten many an ankle and once got his teeth stick in a Council steel-toe cap for the whole of Lansbury Road.

But as a result of that incident it had found him on a „Most Wanted‟ poster and a feature on Sky Television‟s „Britain‟s Hardest Mutts‟  

Today he was destined to be the hunted and not the hunter.

The local council had had enough.

*********************************************************************      

Local Dog Warden Rex Royvon was pleased to be offered the job...for the sake of the Council interview he had answered like a Miss World contestant...in that he loved all animals...all creatures great and small.

In reality,  he despised them all...if only the interview panel  had looked in his RSPCA bag they had had brought to the interview they would have seen that the contents included an  ultrasonic dog whistle, an inverted spiked collar (bought from the dog version of Ann Summers- „Doggy Style‟) muzzles and canine taser.

Rex Royvon too was well hard.

The day of reckoning for the Swansea Road pooch was coming.  

Jumping into his Council van he couldn‟t wait to get started and evict the dog that living in Cyfarthfa House Flats illegally.


******


As he rolled around on his back lazily  in a pool of white liquid  that he had stolen from the Swansea Road convenience store,  Flob the Pit Bull continued to chew on the tin until the contents had run away into the gutter.

He had entered the shop and taken what he wanted without challenge.

The owner knew better than to risk life or limb for a tin of condensed milk.  

Inside the dog was the spirit of former Sex Pistol Sid Vicious... like the milk he was a reincarnation.  

He had died too early and under Hindu rules he was once again making his journey through life in a lower life form as a vessel.

He like Curt Kobain wanted to reach Nirvana once again.

Sniffing through the backstreets of the Gellideg Estate he encountered daily discarded syringes and filthy used condoms.

It was the closest he would ever see to  Johnny Rotten again in this lifetime.

He was called „Flob‟ mainly because his rapid mouth always had a white drool or foam around it like most of the other drug users on the sink estate.

Flob knew them all by scent they were grey zombies like extras in the cast of Shaun of the Dead...walking sideways or marching to a Columbian beat.

He knew better than to bite one of those toxic creatures.

As the Council Dog Warden car pulled up outside Cyfarthfa House „ Flob‟ could smell fresh blood.


****

Rex Royvon was not the most patient of men.

To most people when you knock a door and there is no answer they assume that the person is out.

To Rex he had the nose of the child-catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and could smell dog hair from six feet away.

In Cyfarthfa House...he didn‟t need his super powers.

The dog had moulted more hair than Elton John and Tele Savalas put together and the communal staircase was awash with white old dog faeces, human faeces and empty „Farm Foods‟ dog food tins.

The problem is Rex had to be sure it was the dog that was eating it.

As he climbed around the red brick window frame 30 feet above the grassed area below the tenant was so shocked to see a „Spiderman‟ Dog Warden that he dropped his crack pipe.

The  little dog instinctively ran for the letterbox. acting like a cat flap as he squeezed through hoping to make a bolt for freedom .

Rex had anticipated the move and waited for the dog to venture out into the street before reversing over him in his van at high speed.

“ Problem solved!” he said as the horrified tenant looked down at his former flat mate who was definitely flat.

Flob the Pit Bull didn‟t mind he just hovered up the road kill and swallowed like he did a „Domino‟s Pizza‟.

That was the first time Rex & Flob met eye to eye and it was reminiscent of the Gun Fight at the OK Corral.

The two combatants knowing innately that each was the others Nemesis.  

They were never destined to be Pedigree Chums for one minute.

Flob egged on by the grieving Tenant stood his ground.

Rex reached slowly into the back of his truck for the muzzle pole and taser.

He stood like Clint Eastwood in the Spaghetti Western The Good The  Bad and the Ugly watching for the first move.

As he looked as his adversary Rex said coolly with a bic biro pen in the corner of his mouth...” Go ahead Punk and make my day!”  

Flob made it ....as he sprinted towards the Warden , dog bollocks sending blue sparks along the uneven Council pavement.

The Black Devil dog charged like a Zulu Regiment at Rorkes Drift towards Rex.

Rex  crouched and fixed his dog taser to the end of the muzzle pole like a bayonet.

As the evil mutt dived headlong at him jaws open Rex expertly rolled to one side touching the dog with the pole sending an electric shock of some 200 volts straight into the defenceless animal.

The blast blew the dog 20 feet through the air straight through the living room window of a House in Heol Tai Mawr.

The surprised occupant Sheb Woolley dropped his bag of Jelly Babies.

The purple people eater soon regained his composure  as he assumed it was just raining „cats and dogs‟ outside.

It nearly stopped him betting on „Bet Fair‟.

But Flob was not beaten yet.

Flob by name but Vicious in spirit the spiked collared dog shook him down licked his two bollocks with his big red tongue and set off back through the shattered fensa-less window.

“ I wish I could do that!”  said Sheb to his wife not glancing away from the television screen racing for one minute.

“ Offer him a dog biscuit...he might let you!” came the reply as she too carried on knitting without dropping a stitch.

Rex had for once in his life let his guard down as he strolled over to check on the dog he left his taser pole in the street.

No ordinary dog had ever recovered from a blast like that before.

Like the rabid Cujo, here came Flob flying like discarded spittle at the man...the Newer South Wales Ayers Rock Dingo, snapped and snarled as he took a chunk out of the ear of the Warden like it was an unattended baby .

It was true Swansea Road style, skilled in the art of Mike Tyson ear-biting and head-butting the evil creature chomped down on his opponent‟s cartilage.    

Rex recoiled in pain but lifted his leg hard into the biggest target available on the fleeing dog.

His steel toe-cap caught both sides of the dog‟s nuts, as he crumbled to the floor crying like a puppy.        

In one movement Rex threw a steel capture net over the fallen creature and lifted him into the back of the van.

As he drove to the animal impounding service are the rest of the staff were awe struck with disbelief.

The „Terror of Tai Mawr‟ had been tamed and the streets were safe to walk on once more.

As he was slung into a capture cage „Flob‟ looked very indignant.

In the next cage was a pink poodle that had been found straying.

It‟s millionaire owner Pearly King had offered a £1,000.00 reward for it‟s safe return.

The poodle flirting next to the man-eater backed up to the cage .

Flob had never seen anything that looked or smelt that good.

For the first time in his hard „street‟ life he discovered he had a „lipstick‟ red tip which he stuck through the bars of the cage and into the perfumed poodle.

Just as he did so the fashion designer owner made his way into the  pet storage area he was delighted to see his pet was safe and well...his little dog „Vogue‟ was delighted to be reunited with him but didn‟t stop making the acquaintance of his cage fighter mate.

They both smiled  at each other through perfect  Hollywood veneered- white teeth.

As he cuddled his pride and joy through the bars of the cage  the lover of all things furry couldn‟t help but notice that they were very attached to one another and that  every time he uttered his pet‟s name of Vogue... the Pit Bull Terrier pumping up the flat dog  in the next cage turned his head in true Madonna style to show his best side.

„Vogue ...!” commanded Pearly and the  dog  duly obliged turning it‟s square jaw to pose.

“ That dog has doggy style...and they are inseparable too!”  he announced flamboyantly.

“ I think I will use him to promote my latest creations at Rhydycar fashion show tonight...Geoff Banks eat your heart out!” declared Pearly.

“ How much do you want for him?” asked the showman.

“ He is not for sale !” said the Poundsman...he is a rebel!”

“ Yes, he does have that look in his eye...a bit like a modern day David Bowie!” said the fashionista.

“ He is Vicious!” said the man.

“ Yes...there is something about his eyes...he does... now you say it... remind me of Sid Vicious!” he continued...” Does £2,000.00 make you forgetful and leave the cage door open?”  

********************************************************************

As the gathered crowd of the rich and the famous sat in the State-of the Art Leisure they sweated and swooned as it was the first modern building ever to be constructed without air conditioning.

The Pearly King „French Connection‟ Autumn Fashion show started with two young children dressed as Adam & Eve with just a tree branch covering their modesty.

Under the slogan „Turning over a new „leaf‟ in the book of fashion the show had more stars on display than the Constellation of Orion.

In amongst the celebrity audience „spinning around‟  in her chair was fashion icon and nymphette Kyley Minogue and sat alongside her was her celebrity bodyguard Dwain „The Rock‟ Johnson.

Even though she was from Oz,  Kyley (the woman  voted „rear of the year‟) was boiling in the main hall and the Rock was cooking too!

As the show began in more earnest a parade of beautiful ball gowns on size zero models past by.

Poor Lesley Hornby was Twiggy in comparison  .

The section on hats and fox fur scarves made the poor models even more flustered as the temperatures rose to even greater extreme for the poor „clothes horses‟ on display.      Finally, the section of the show that all the real men had been waiting for,  – women in their beach wear.

Out first came the Danish Supermodel Helena Christenson with pink vogue in tow.

The audience went wild clapping and screaming...but this was just for openers as out onto the „catwalk‟ came the star of the show.

Punk dog , „Flob‟ Viscious dressed as the Queen with a earring through his nose accompanied by Sophie „Pies‟ Dahl , „vogued‟ (like he was on the cover of a magazine (HMV) ) his way up the catwalk.

As she read from one of her father‟s book out came James Cordon naked bar a tangerine pair of underpants.

“ Talk about James and the Giant Peach!” whispered his co-writer Ruth Jones admiring his new post World Cup body.

As he blew his World Cup whistle to  98% of  the  human audience it was harmless and silent.

But to the remaining 2% of the canine ones it was as irritating as a Vuvuzela horn and caused „Vogue‟ the poodle to cover his ears and Flob the Pit Bull to dive headlong into the audience aggressively towards the unfortunate Kylie & Dwain eating their packed lunches.

There was suddenly  „Anarchy in the FCUK‟

As in his first life,  Sid Vicious had reverted to kind ,  he was once again  embroiled in „Sex , Dogs and Rock N Roll‟


Last edited by Boz1964 on Sun Apr 12, 2020 1:41 am; edited 4 times in total (Reason for editing : Dog fleas)
Boz1964
Boz1964

Posts : 2403
Join date : 2012-10-08

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