GitOrrf! mein hund, stop yapping and get over here
Wotz the plan, then? GitOrrf! bounds over to Gunther.
Fours…lots of fours
Nothing happens. No fours trotting in from anywheres. Both fourlegs eyeball up and down both ends of the High Road. Not one muttwit in sight.
And then, out of nowhere, muttwits are popping up from everywhere – trotting straight towards Gunther. He stands foursquare outside Colonial Saunders. Fourlegs of all shapes and sizes, some dragging along their hindlegs packmates, the streetlegs dragging along their plum bobs, only. All panting and wagging tails and stubs, ready for a rumble. More muttwits than toes on four paws, lyk.
Snif yuz all Gunther barks, standing tall before thems earflaps up and listen, fall in behind me andmake some solid legs between KFC and zat Norscot Caterpillar 320D Hydraulic Excavator
That wotz? a load of fourlegs bark back.
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