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Puppyhood's End
Puppyhood's End
Puppyhood's End
Ebook39 pages38 minutes

Puppyhood's End

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Another Wally Pazooza detective case. Near Killington, Vermont a devil is seen hiding out in the Colonel's backyard. Men in black capture a devil thirty miles away, and they are keeping him in a holding cell. Puppy's begin disappearing all over the United States. Wally and his crew move into a mansion near the Colonel's. Do the disappearing puppies have anything to do with the devils? Are the devils real? Or are they humans dressed up as devils? Will the devils invade the Earth and kill us all? Or will Wally solve the case, save the puppies, and stop the invasion?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJohn Northern
Release dateDec 2, 2017
ISBN9781370427123
Puppyhood's End
Author

John Northern

Doctor of Chiropractic

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    Book preview

    Puppyhood's End - John Northern

    PUPPYHOOD'S END

    Published by John Northern at Smashwords

    © Copyright 2017 by John Northern

    We were compelled to direct our living on Earth for awhile, or maybe longer than awhile. I have so much money we could have lived anywhere, but we love the movies produced in the U. S.—much better than the ones produced on Schmolden. We love the food—most delicious. And we love the strange characters who make up most of Earth's humanity. They run around acting like a bunch of clown fish—very strange, but interesting.

    We introduced the idea to our friends and some of the people we know, and they decided to tag along. There was the Chief, who was seven feet tall and huge, and I don’t mean fat. There wasn't an ounce of lard on him, and his shoulders were so broad they looked like a semi full of seafood getting ready to head on down the highway. And then there was his second in command, Lieutenant Leon Dumble, who often got himself into trouble when making rash decisions. Even Pickle-nose Pete came along. He had had his nose shortened, but now it looked like a shorter pickle and it still wiggled a little, like a minnow out of water, when he talked. And finally my good friends Dick and Doreen rounded out the sinister seven. Well, maybe not so sinister since we're the good guys. I just said it because it sounded cool, and also because we are sinister to the bad guys.

    We bought a small house off of Thundering Brook Road near Killington, Vermont—just kidding—it wasn’t small. The house actually has fourteen bedrooms, fifteen bathrooms, and all the other rooms comprising a mansion. We hired a butler, a gardener, a cook, a driver—oh, wait, on Earth they label them chauffeurs, and two maids. Before we hired the maids, Wally made for certain they were as homely as a monkey making faces in a mirror—especially the wide smile with the fingers spreading the lips and the tongue sticking out at you, or uglier than a squid grunting to open a clam shell—is that ugly? I don’t know. Anyway, since she's the most beautiful woman in the Universe, I don’t know why she feels she has to keep me from gandering good-looking women, or using the ol' shark's eye. Even if she weren’t beautiful I still wouldn’t cheat on her—she's my wife, and my love is stuck on her like roasted marshmallows on the lips and teeth and fingers. I've told her this on several unimportant occasions—she didn't like the marshmallow comment. Anyway, in the short time we've been married I'm finding she's the cautious type. Don’t ever try to one-up her. Before you know it she'll two-up you.

    Anyway, we moved in lock, stock, and barrel. I don’t know why I said that. Actually, it's not quite accurate. We didn’t feel a need for locks—since we have high-tech security systems not found on Earth. And we don't have any stock—no cows or pigs or chickens or horses or any animals other than a couple of dogs, three cats, four hamsters, five canaries, and a huge, salt-water

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