Part I

“Yipe! Yipe!”
“We’re all thinking the same thing, Barney,” Bush said solemnly as he looked at the unconscious Chomps lying on the hospital bed.
Condoleezza Rice then walked into the room and shook her head when she saw the dog in his anger filled coma. “Chomps, the world’s angriest dog – a dog barely alive…” She turned to face the others. “Gentlemen, we can rebuild him… We have the technology. We have the capability to make the world’s first bionic dog. Chomps will be that dog. Better than he was before… stronger… faster… angrier…”
The veterinarian tapped a sign on the wall that said, “No cybernetically enhancing the animals.”
“We’ll have none of those shenanigans while I’m around,” he said, “When you’re in my hospital, you go by my rules!”
Condi rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
Rumsfeld patted Chomps on his side. “Come on, boy; pull through.”

“You think he’ll be any good guarding a junkyard?” Zeke’s cousin Louie asked.
“Sure he will,” Zeke answered, “He loves harming people; that’s why they won’t let him on the Berkeley campus anymore.”
Chomps started barking angrily at the junkyard.
“He does look fierce,” Louie stated, “and I really need someone to keep thieves out of my junkyard. No one steals from Louie… no one!”
Chomps started attacking the fence to the junkyard.
“I’m sure he’ll stop any thieves,” Zeke said, “He’s good at finding people who are no good and taking care of them.”
“Well, Chomps, I guess you got yourself a job as a junkyard dog,” Louie declared, “What do you think?”
Chomps growled with rage.
“That’s the spirit.”
Zeke bent down to face Chomps. “I guess it’s goodbye. Time for you to move on to more important things.”
Chomps stopped growling to look at Zeke. He then bit him lightly on the arm.
“I’ll miss you too,” Zeke said as he backed away while rubbing his wound.
Louie opened the junkyard gate. “Time to get to work. You find anyone in there, you make sure they don’t come back no more!”
Chomps ran into the junkyard and started barking at a junked car at the top of the pile. He then gradually climbed the pile so he could start attacking it. Louie put a sign up on the fence and painted the words, “CAUTION: You will be mauled by angry dog if you trespass.”

Bush turned on the TV in the veterinarian’s office.
“What’s so important?” Rumsfeld demanded.
“Cheney is clarifying his remarks where he said people would die if we weren’t reelected,” Bush answered.
On screen was Cheney. “I would just like to say that I did not mean that terrorists would kill people if we aren’t reelected,” he announced, “I meant I would kill people if we aren’t reelected. That’s right! If you don’t reelect Bush and me, I’m going on a murdering spree! You hear me? You’re dead men walking! With the evil of Halliburton behind me, no one can stop me! Muh ha ha ha! By the way, go fu-”
Laura Bush turned off the TV. “I think he probably should have handled that differently.”
Bush patted her on the head. “And that’s why you’re not a political consultant, honey.”
“The anger in the dog dwindles,” Zatoichi announced as he motioned to the burning candle by Chomps’s bedside.
“Are you still here?” Rumsfeld snapped angrily.
Ichi laughed. “I dunno; I can’t see.”
The wild, random biting of the unconscious Chomps began to slow.

Louie took his paintbrush to his sign so now it read, “CAUTION: You will be mauled by angry dog if you trespass– or come near my junkyard or look at my junkyard or think about my junkyard or just plain deserve a mauling.”
A man in a suit approached Louie. “Hello, I’m Mr. Boggins from the Guinness Book of World Records Committee. We’ve heard of your dog Chomps who has been terrorizing the neighborhood.”
“Only those who need a terrorizing!” Louie responded.
“We’ve seen the psychological reports about his extreme anti-social personality disorder,” Mr. Boggins responded.
“Those psychologist don’t know nut’n!” Louie yelled, “They tried to get a court order to have Chomps put down. But he’s a good dog; ain’t no one steal from Louie since he’s been around. Yeah, maybe it seems a little odd how he savagely attacks the junk, but he only rips up the worthless stuff. I sort through the shreds after he’s done and find all the good parts untouched. Oh, and you should have seen it the other day when I brought in some sixties hippy van. He got so angry at it he tore that thing into shreds so small you couldn’t recognize it!”
“That’s why we’re considering naming Chomps ‘The World’s Angriest Dog,'” Mr. Boggins said.
“Wow; I’ll go get him,” Louie answered. He looked around the junkyard. “Where is he?”

“Hey, Greg, I’m thinking we should just break into that Louie’s junkyard and get the parts we need; what do you think?”
“Grrroowerr,” Greg responded to Mickey.
Mickey looked to Greg. “Don’t take this wrong, but you kinda look like an angry dog today.” Mickey stared at Greg longer. “A very angry dog.”

“There he is!” Louie called out as he saw Chomps walk up the street.
Chomps coughed up a baseball cap.
“That’s my Chomps,” Louie said proudly, “Only junkyard dog I know who does preemptive strikes.”
“Is it safe to be out around him?” Mr. Boggins asked.
“Nope.”
Chomps started snarling at Mr. Boggins.
“Chomps!” Louie called as he opened the gate, “Look in the junkyard! I think I saw a fuel-efficient European car in there.”
Chomps ran into the junkyard while barking and growling. He then started attacking a car with full rage.
“My god!” Mr. Boggins exclaimed, “Such violent anger.” He took out an electronic device. “That anger meter is off the charts. I believe it’s time to declare Chomps ‘The World’s Angriest Dog.’ That will make Tiggers the pit-bull angry… but not angry enough to be angrier than Chomps.”
“You’re the world’s angriest dog,” Louie called out to Chomps, “How does that make you feel?”
Chomps ran up to the fence and barked and snarled at them.
“It makes him angry,” Mr. Boggins declared, “Excellent.” He turned to Louie. “Here is a certificate declaring Chomps ‘The World’s Angriest Dog’ and a complimentary case of Guinness Stout.”
“Great!” Louie exclaimed as he accepted the items.
“Also, we are interested in having Chomps for our Guinness Book or World Records museum,” Mr. Boggins said, “Will you give him to me for this big bag of money?”
Mr. Boggins handed Louie a canvas sack with a dollar sign on it. “This is a big bag of money,” Louie admitted, “but Chomps has been such a great guard dog.” Louie thought about it for a while and then turned to Chomps. “I guess it’s your time to move on again,” he told the dog, “You’re going to be famous now!”
Chomps growled and then attacked the fence.
“Do you have a kennel to take him in?” Mr. Boggins asked.
“I have a converted shark cage,” Louie answered, “but don’t keep him in there too long– it makes him angry.”

Scott McClellan entered the hospital room. “President Bush, there’s some issues we need to address.”
“But we’re well-wishing Chomps,” Bush answered.
“Poor dog,” Scott said as he approached the unconscious rottweiler. “He may have bit me a lot, but I don’t want him to die. He always…”
Eyes still closed, Chomps head darted towards Scott and he bit him.
“Holy snikeys!” Scott screamed as he fell back.
“Heh heh,” Ichi laughed, “Comatose dog bit tubby man!”
“That may have been his last bite,” Laura said with worry. Chomps was barely stirring now, and the candle beside him burnt out.
“Stay with us, boy!” Rumsfeld said, shaking Chomps, “There are so many people out there who need to be mauled, and I can’t do it all myself!”
Chomps stopped moving at all, and the heart meter connected to him stopped beeping and turned into a constant tone.
The veterinarian ran forward. “He’s flat lined!”
TO BE CONCLUDED…
Will Chomps die?
Yes, he will!
…Unless you buy his t-shirt.

Otherwise, Chomps will die and you will be sad and not have a cool t-shirt. Don’t let that happen!