Biffer investigates: Infiltration & a pissing competition
“Be careful Biffer!”
The words echoed ominously around Canine College’s alleyway campus. With the fierce determination of a dog on a mission, Biffer the Labradoodle aimed his coal black nose forwards and set off on his biggest ever adventure. This was to be his final assignment before graduating. All Biffer needed was one good article and his future as a fully-fledged investigative journalist would be secure.
Biffer took a deep breath, sniffing the evening air as he went. Behind him, sipping brandy from the tiny barrel he wore around his neck stood his faithful tutor Bernard.
“I’m proud of you, boy.” The old professor whispered, watching until his star pupil rounded the corner at the end of the alley and disappeared from sight.
A few minutes later Biffer was on Kennel Lane. Before him, huddled around a urine-soaked lamp post was a small group of scary looking dogs, cats and assorted caricatures of nobody in particular. It was on. The young Labradoodle’s rendezvous with the fascist ‘Kennels First’ group was only seconds away. Biffer knew he’d have to keep his cover secure or risk certain death at the hands of the evil Jayda cat. That’s assuming Slattery cat didn’t get to him first. He’d done his research and was well aware that the metaphorical pussy cats, Puppy Paul and Bulldog Lewis were nothing compared to the group’s real pussy cats, Jayda and Slattery.
“OK gentlemen, I want a good clean fight.”
Biffer recognised the speaker instantly. It was Big Walt Lomax, tactical genius, armed forces specialist and giant of the Kennel First movement. Rumour has it that Big Walt was a proper veteran whose great, great, great auntie Siobhan fished from the edge of a garden pond near the battlefield at Ypres. It’s true that the battle was long since over but according to legend she discovered some very interesting smells for all that and even demanded a medal for her pains. Kennels First was happy to oblige. Kennels First gives everyone medals. It’s what they do!
“No surprise there.” Muttered Biffer, approaching the lamp post, his anxiety giving way to the natural curiosity of the undercover reporter. What was going on?
“I’m OK! I’m OK!”
The voice was deep, gruff and angry.
“Just help me up, will yer?”
The young labradoodle watched as Bulldog writhed around helplessly, waving his stubby little legs in a way that reminded Biffer of a struggling, upended tortoise.
“You’ll never be Top Dog acting like that. Bulldog!”
Biffer felt himself gasp and hold his breath as he turned to stare at the newcomer. It was Puppy Paul himself! The leader of The Kennellers was standing just feet away and he looked mean. At least he looked as mean as a cute puppy ever can. Actually he just looked pathetic – as usual.
“You think you can piss higher than me. Eh?”
Puppy Paul’s lip twisted into a sneer. His voice was both taunting and, Biffer detected, ever so slightly tremulous. It was as though even he wasn’t sure who would win this pissing contest. The stakes were high. Whoever managed to project their urine furthest up the lamp post would win – and the winner controls the whole gang. Lewis had always been jealous of Puppy Paul and his favoured position with ‘the boss’, Spidery Jim. Kennels First could be under Bulldog and Slattery cat’s control with Puppy Paul and Jayda cat out on their cute, floppy ears once and for all. Everything rested on the achievable altitude of Puppy Paul’s next piss.
Jayda cat was nothing if not encouraging.
“And you can stop yer purring, an’ all! Why don’t you and Bulldog boy there just go and play with the traffic?”
She hissed at Slattery cat, flicking her newly extended tail in the direction of the busy road.
Without waiting for Bulldog to be helped to his feet, Puppy Paul approached the Kennels First lamp post, carefully positioning himself on three legs, the fourth limb cocked towards the offending lamp post. With all the supreme effort of a freshly potty trained puppy, Paul squeezed his abdominal muscles as tightly as he could, closed his eyes and pushed hard.
“Dogs in Kennels!” Exclaimed Clever Besser, the Kennellers’ ‘intelligence officer’. “He’s shit himself!”
Biffer smiled inwardly, dreaming of his first Pulitzer prize. Puppy Paul slinked shamefacedly away to hide behind the line of Police dogs (German shepherds, of course) that ringed the lamp post. He could see them sniggering under their studded collars as they closed ranks to protect the frightened Puppy from the gathering crowd of mongrels who jeered at his humiliation.
“Not again!” Exclaimed Jayda cat. “You really are embarrassing, Paul.”
Bulldog Lewis, certain that the leadership was his at last wobbled his way up to the lamp post. All he needed to do was hit the post with piss and Kennels First would belong to him.
“Go baby, go.”
Slattery cat could hardly contain her excitement.
Bulldog lifted his left hind leg as high as he could, straining to point his steroid-shrunken article as high into the air as caninely possible and squeezed. Big Walt held his breath, waiting to announce the Kennellers’ new leader. Surely it must be all over now. Surely nothing could stop this coup. Jayda cat and Puppy Paul would soon be handing over their crowns to Slattery and Bulldog. Unless… unless.
“Oh feck!” Cried Slattery cat.
“I’m sorry love.” Bulldog looked like he would cry as he picked himself up from the urine-soaked street and checked the lamp post. Not a single drop of his precious amber liquid had hit the spot.
“Will you ever stop falling over?”
Biffer licked his lips, the prize-winning article already taking shape in his Labradoodle brain.
Spidery Jim, the shadowy figure behind Puppy Paul’s success just rolled his eyes and crawled off into the shadows.
To be continued…