Well, hello there! What’s your name? What is it?

“It’s Billy, jackass.”

Not you. The dog.

“That’s Killer. I didn’t fix him, so watch out: he might fuck ya.”

Like father, like son.

“He pounds dog ass, man. You should see him. I get inspired.”


“Sometimes, I hook up bitches for both of us. Get a tandem-fuck going. Weird, though.”


“I do it doggy-style a lot, but Killer never does it Billy-style.”

Probably just being passive-aggressive.

“The breed is known for that He’s a Shanghai Appetizer.”

That is not a dog breed, but it is racist. I see you got an Apple Watch like everyone else.

“Yeah it’s the tits. It’s a phone you can wear on your wrist.”

Are pockets that inconvenient?

“I’m naked a lot.”


“I got an app on this thing that hooks up to Killer’s shock collar.”

A shock collar? Why?

“I like shocking shit.”

Okay. You’re terrible, but you have your reasons.

“Watch this.”

Dog didn’t move.

“Shock collar’s around my balls.”

You said it was Killer’s.

“It belongs to him, like, legally. But it is wrapped around my scrotum.”


“I like it.”

Jesus, Billy.

“It’s sexy and refreshing. Like a nap combined with a tugger. Not as good as the peanut butter trick, though.”

Do not make your dog lick peanut butter off your genitals.

“That’s disgusting. I make skank lick it off.”

Oh, that’s fine.

“Killer licks the peanut butter off the skank. He’s straight. But, you know, we get our fuck on.”

These conversations never turns out well.