Doggin Around

Cold Feet

Mr. Peanutbutter was circling the living room, holding his face in his hands as he paced. He really did love Bojack, that was for sure, and yet here he was. He had been planning on going out today and finding a handsome new suit for the wedding, but instead, he was here in his house, as his second thoughts kicked in. At what might be the absolute worst time for them to so, he might add.

C'mon Mr. Peanutbutter, it's been 3 hours, Just go out and buy a damn suit! But his legs couldn't move, so there he stood for two more hours, wallowing in depressed silence. 

....

Bojack was on fire! His day was amazing, I mean c'mon, he was getting married to his favourite golden retriever in Hollywoo! In fact, he should go pay Mr. Peanutbutter a surprise visit and share the excitement with him. He assumed that Mr. Peanutbutter would be even more enthusiastic than Bojack himself, he always seemed to have this sense of brightness and optimism within him. Something loving and beautiful.

...

Nine glasses of wine. Mr. Peanutbutter had drunk nine glasses of wine. He was supposed to be the sober one in the relationship, what was he doing? 

Thinking about being drunk only reminded him of when Bojack would get drunk, which made him wonder how he was going to put up with drunk Bojack after they were married. And what about the rest of their future? Would they have kids!? Did Bojack want kids? Did Bojack even love him? Were they both going to have a terrible divorce and become sad, pathetic homeless people that would sell themselves for money? Everything was terribly wrong.

Mr. Peanutbutter couldn't bear sitting in his living room alone with his alcohol for one more minute, so he decided to walk the streets, searching for something that would inspire and uplift him from his misery.

As he strolled the LA streets he passed all sorts of people (and animals), all going about their daily life, somehow oblivious to his upcoming wedding and potentially failed marriage. He wanted to stand on a bench and announce to everyone that he was getting married and they were all invited as long as they also promised to attend his divorce party, but he simply didn't have it in him. 

The usual pep in his step was completely gone as Mr. Peanutbutter shuffled down the sidewalk, passing him and Todd's failed "Halloween in January" store, a metaphor for his whole life, really, the footlocker he used to work at years ago, and, most depressingly of all, the suit shop, where he was supposed to be getting fitted today. 

He thought about going inside, but decided that wedding prep would only make him dwell on his doubts more. What he needed was a distraction, something to make him forget about his problems rather than forcing him to actually face them. Mr. Peanutbutter needed a wacky adventure, and luckily for him, that was one thing Hollywoo never failed to provide.

He walked around waiting for a brilliant idea to strike him, until he suddenly noticed the bank at the end of the street. A lightbulb went off in Mr. Peanutbutter's brain. 

I'll take out some money, not a lot, just a few million, and then I'll use it to invest in a fun new business! I can call Todd and ask him to be my creative manager. It'll be just like old times. 

Mr. Peanutbutter smiled at that. He quickly headed down the street and into the bank.

 ...

As he was standing at the counter, forming a new account for his still undecided business venture, Mr. Peanutbutter suddenly heard a loud bang.

He turned around to see several tall bears standing just inside the entrance. They were dressed in all black, all holding assault rifles with the exception of the shortest one, who was wielding a rocket launcher, and also wearing sunglasses for some reason. He stepped forward and shouted in a strong Russian accent- "THIS IS ROBBERY! Everyone get on the floor NOW or we BLOW YOUR TINY HEADS OFF!"

People ran past Mr. Peanutbutter screaming, everyone lowering themselves to the ground while wailing in terror. Mr. Peanutbutter stood casually at the counter, only mildly confused. This must be some sort of misunderstanding, He thought. They must not know I'm a celebrity! I'm famous, nobody would want me to be dead, that's just ridiculous. Besides, If they just asked nicely I'm sure I would just give them all my money. I'll just make more, after all. 

The sunglasses-wearing bear strode across the room towards Mr. Peanutbutter, the only person in the bank still standing.  "What are you doing. GET DOWN."

Mr. Peanutbutter laughed in confusion and asked in his usual light tone- "Several armed criminals and Mr. Peanutbutter in the same room? What is this, a hostage situation?"

"YES!" The bear screamed, "THIS IS HOSTAGE SITUATION!"

"You must be fun at parties." Mr. Peanutbutter laughed.

"What is this dog babbling about? Seize him already!" The bear leader yelled.

The two largest bears strode forward, grabbing Mr.Peanutbutters forearms roughly. 

"Ow, Hey! Why don't you take a guy out to dinner first!" Mr.Peanutbutter said with a nervous chuckle.

"Oh yeah man, sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." The bears said, letting him go.

"Fools! I will finish this mutt myself." The leader bellowed, unsheathing his rocket launcher.

"Well, this just got intense." 

"Ha, indeed it did." The leader said blasting a rocket through the air.

Mr. Peanutbutter glanced down at the tile floor. "Hey look, a fifty dollar bill! Looks like its my lucky day!" he remarked, bending down to grab the suspicious bill. The rocket sped over his head, flying into the wall behind him with a massive boom. 

Glass shattered and furniture flew across the room in pieces as most of the bank counters were demolished in the explosion. Mr. Peanutbutter stood up, completely unharmed.

His attacker screamed in frustration. "ENOUGH."  He pulled out a small handheld pistol. "Outrun this, filthy dog."

Mr. Peanutbutter felt concerned. This very unstable individual was quite determined to kill him, even though he had done nothing wrong. The nerve of some people. If he died today he would never even get to have his wedding with Bojack. 

It was in that moment that Mr. Peanutbutter realized, if he survived today, no battle in his marriage could be worse than an attack by the Russian bear mob. Besides, some people were worth fighting for. He wasn't going to give up on Bojack yet.

Suddenly a revving noise resounded outside. Mr. Peanutbutter watched in shock as Bojack  busted through the exploded wall on a...motorcycle!? 

"Sorry for droppin' in." Bojack grinned, taking off the pair of shades he had on.

"Bojack and Mr. Peanutbutter in the same bank robbery!? What is this a crossover epis-"

"NO!" The bear with the rocket launcher bellowed.

"You mess with my husband, you mess with me!" Bojack yelled, pulling out a pistol and shooting the bear.

The bear fell to the floor in agony, gun spinning away. Bojack rode over to Mr. Peanutbutter and reached out his hand lovingly. 

"Come on babe, lets get out of here." Bojack chuckled, pulling Mr. Peanutbutter onto the motorcycle and driving away. 

Lets just say this whole "rocky mountain steed" persona was working for Mr. Peanutbutter. In fact, his pants started feeling uncomfortably tight as they drove home. As he clung to Bojack's waist, every doubt from earlier that morning was gone. He knew for a fact...that he loved him.