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Under another freeway a discarded table, chairs and couches sit arranged as if in a residence with no walls between the rooms. Bugs sleeps on a sofa and Fido kicks back in a recliner snoring lightly. Bugs wakes, sees the dog, takes a stick of gum out and pops it in his mouth. After chewing it he grabs a dollar from his pocket, gets the gum out of his mouth and sneaks over to Fido. Then he sticks the dollar on his tail. Bugs

 

proceeds to lay back down and sleep some more.

Later when Fido wakes Bugs looks up at the bottom of the highway.

"Morning Bugs." Fido stands up and stretches.

"Morning."

"Sleep well?" the dog asks.

"Ok. You?"

"Like a baby. Damn I'm hungry. Got any money."

"Why don't you just go, look cute and beg, like other dogs do."

"That's what I'm doing."

"Oh yeah. Right." Bugs gets up and reaches into his pocket. Then he notices the buck on Fido's tail. "That looks like a dollar stuck to your tail. That's enough for a candy bar."

Fido reaches for it, can't get it, turns and the dollar remains out of reach. He does this faster till he's chasing his own tail. "God damn it!"

As the dog goes in circles faster and faster, Bugs, with the tools of his trade, sneaks off down the broken asphalt trail to the boulevard. He passes a big pile of scrapped fence.

 

Bugs trods the pavement against the bright band of dawn over and behind the urban horizon.

 

Fido finally stops and lets his tail drop. He stands still with his legs wide and curls his tail up between them. He grabs the dollar from the end of his tail like this. Fido finds the gum stuck to his wagger. He realizes that he's been duped and looks around to find Bugs gone. He growls.

Finally he looks into the camera. "Of course you know, this means war," he tells us.

 

 

Fido comes out of the convenience store with a candy bar. He sits on the concrete, unwraps his breakfast and takes a bite. He props his other elbow against his raised knee and leans his forehead against his palm. Fido taps his forehead trying to dislodge an idea as he eats.

Across the parking lot and gas pumps the owner of a clunker finishes draining the oil before adding fresh lubricant. Fido watches as he finishes the chocolate. After a short while a bulb lights above his head. He snaps his finger, stands suddenly and hurries on.

 

Fido walks out of the hardware store right by a store employee. After he's passed he pulls a box wrench out of his fur.

 

At the Park and Ride lot the dog crawls on his back under a minivan. He holds a 2 liter plastic pop bottle at an angle under the oil drain plug as he bleeds it. At 1st Fido spills some oil. But at last the fount flows into the bottle mouth and fills the jug.

 

Fido stashes the bottle of oil in some tall weeds along the broken asphalt road that goes from the main drag to underneath the freeway. Then he goes back for more.

 

A sharp female office worker sits on a bench looking at a web page on her iphone. Bugs walks by, does a double take, goes back and sits next to her, inches away. At first she ignores him. He leans almost in front of her to look at the screen.

"Hello," Bugs says.

She scooches away and acknowledges his existence by nodding brusquely. He scrunches toward her and drapes his leg over hers. The woman smacks Bugs in the head. He bounces off the sidewalk and stands grinning. She gets up and puts her iphone in her pocket as she walks quickly away. He matches her pace. She runs. He sprints after her.

She stops, faces him and yells, "KEEYI!!"

Then the woman grabs Bugs and judo flips him onto the pavement. Bugs doesn't get up until she's gone. He stumbles dizzily along.

 

Like before, the dog pinches more petroleum from under an SUV.

 

On the way back to the stash Fido finds an old rusted broken handled shovel by the side of the road. He grabs it and brings it along.

 

Fido works on digging up dry earth and making a pile of dry loose dirt.

Jump Cut> The dog pours some oil into the dirt from the 2 liter bottle and makes a batch of sludgey gunk from the mix in an old stolen trash can.

Jump Cut> Fido continues the process. The batch grows and almost fills the can. He stops and grabs a sandbag sized armful of the sludge from the can. The dog rolls it into a ball on the broken asphalt.

Jump Cut> Fido works on fashioning the now bigger load into some kind of sculpture.

Jump Cut> Almost finished, he keeps making a woman sized sludge dummy. That accomplished, the big fake mutt searches the ground. He finds some big washers and broken glass. With this detritus he makes a face for the big black doll.

Fido looks at his creation and grins. "Im'a name you Grease Squirt. Yeah."

As it starts to get dark Fido grabs and drags Grease Squirt to Bugs' couch. He tries to toss the dummy off of him but it's stuck. He tries to shake it off harder but it won't come loose. Then he stops, makes himself be still and slowly pushes Grease Squirt off of himself. Tendons of black ooze pull and get thinner the farther Fido pushes the doll away. At last, as he eases it off, the ooze strings snap and break. With a sudden violent shake of his hands he flings Grease Squirt finally to the sofa.

 

Bugs carries the instrument and lunchbox down sidewalk of the main drag at the end of the night's performing.

 

Fido waits in the recliner by the sofa with the dark doll. Black tar sticks to most of his fur. He hears a footstep, sits erect and cocks his head up.

 

Bugs approaches the underpass from down the old road.

 

The canine reaches in his pocket, grabs some glitter from his pocket and blows it into the face of Grease Squirt. The dummy acquires an expression of dull consciousness. Fido jumps behind the couch quick.

A moment later Bugs arrive. As he starts to put his things down he notices Grease Squirt, who watches him with an enigmatic expression from the sofa.

"Excuse me Miss, or Sir, but you're in my bunk," Bugs tells it.

Grease Squirt makes no reply.

"You're in my bunk," he asserts affably.

Behind the couch Fido whispers something into the back of it.

"I didn't see anyone's name on it, fool," Grease Squirt argues.

After a minute Bugs just shrugs and bends down to pick his things up. "Ok. Finders keepers. I'll just go and find someplace else to crash."

"Good night, bitch." the black sludge puppet insults.

Bugs looks at Grease Squirt. "Sheesh. Some people's kids. Sweet dreams." He turns away.

"Assclown!" the thing continues the verbal assault.

Bugs turns back again. He looks at it and takes a step forward with a concerned face. "What's wrong? You seem bummed out or something."

"You're psycho!"

Bugs' eyes pop out. Smoke pours from his ears. He gnashes his teeth and drops his things. "What did you call me?!?!"

"You're crazier than a bughouse chigger."

"Shut your pie hole!" Bugs grabs Grease Squirt lifts it by the neck, and trounces it about.

The shiny black dummy clings severely to the man as he thrashes wildly about. The harder he tries to shake himself free of Grease Squirt, the more stuck Bugs gets. He stomps and shakes more extremely but gets even more stuck.

In the course of this dance Bugs throws himself and Grease Squirt to the asphalt. The dummy morphs to a pool of black oily tar that sucks the hapless urchin head down into it. It gets quiet.

Behind the sofa Fido listens. After awhile, confused at the calm, he becomes curious. Soon enough he peeks over the couch and sees neither dummy or dupe. He comes out from behind the couch.

Fido sees the pool of inky sludge. He goes to inspect it. "What the hell?"

 

In the pool Bugs hangs suspended upside down struggling and pumping his limbs in the gunk.

A voice, his own, tells him, "Be still."

But he doesn't heed the advice. Bugs fights harder.

"It's like quicksand. You gotta just be still."

He stops and quits moving. After a bit his body rotates from upside down to up.

 

Bugs hands emerge from the pool. He grabs the edge of the hard asphalt and pulls himself out, painstakingly slow. He gulps up big lungfuls of air.

Fido, all smeared and streaked with black goop, and Bugs, completely covered attached to the pool by big wet strands and tendons of goop, stare at each other.

The oil pit morphs back into Grease Squirt, still stuck to Bugs. The man stands there looking defeated.

"You done trying to give me the slip?" the dog asks.

"Yeah, dickhead. Just please..."

"Please what?"

"Nothing."

"Say it," Fido demands.

"Don't throw in the old barbed wire fence."

"Well, you shouldn't have called me 'dickhead'."

Fido steps fast around the back of Bugs and picks him up by the scruff of the neck and belt, between his and Grease Squirt's. He marches the short distance and throws them into the old fence.

Bugs squirms and twists in the tangled rusted chain link and razorwire. By the time he wriggles out of it he's detached himself from Grease Squirt, who remains stuck in the metal tangle.

Bugs springs away from the opposite side of the dog. Fido follows but going around the big wire mess trips over a fence.

The mock canine stands and watches Bugs laugh and run away.

"Help me out of this mess," Grease Squirt asks.

Fido reaches in his pocket, gets some more glitter and blows it at Grease Squirt. The dummy yanks and rips himself out of the twisted snarl of rusted fence.

The dog and big doll stand and look at each other.

"I need to get some gas so I can wash this stuff off." Fido says.

The Grease Squirt just shrugs. When the dog goes it follows.

 

From behind a bus stop shelter Bugs watches his 2 antagonists emerge from the asphalt trail. When they're gone he sneaks back toward the underpass.

Jumpcut> The street singer comes back down the road with his synth/sampler and Scooby Doo lunchbox.

 

 

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