dog day the 2nd at 2:45 am
Agent Pug awoke a little bit past midnight from some rain drops dripping on his head. Where the hell … is he?! He realized that the self destructing recorder actually contained anaesthetic gas. And while he was asleep they transported him away from his nice little home to this cold, rainy place. Didn't they promise him California? Oh no, it can't be the States. They said something about "a land of great history". Then it must be Spain or France… but he doesn't need to cross the Ocean to get there. At least not from G. where Pug started his journey. Oh, maybe they brought him to Mallorca, the 17th state of G., but then it wouldn't explain this %&#?? weather. Still a little bit dazed from the Anaesthetic he decided to make a small investigation of the place and try to find a shelter from the rain. A small wooden box on the other side of the street drew his attention. At least for the moment it would serve its purpose. Pug decided not to be too picky. He thought about James 007 dog who was probably enjoying a night with this famous good-looking poodle lady at the moment. What was her name again? Hally Berrie? Well, but he was not James 007 dog, Pug thought. He had to settle with what life was offering him. While lost in thoughts Pug put a paw on the street and was suddenly dazzled by a car light moving at high speed towards him from the right. Pug moved slowly forward the traffic island in the middle of the street intending to wait there until the car passes him. The car light was coming closer and closer. Pug sensed that there was something terribly wrong with that car. It was driving on the wrong side of the roooaaaaaaad…...
Lying on his back on the sidewalk, out of breath from his near confrontation with death and his double-backflip, Pug thought about contract a life insurance the very next day.*
To be continued.