Habitual Liar

C3- Showdog

"It's been a long day."
Midas sighs.
"I'm gonna go smoke."

"Cigarettes?"

"No. Marijuana."

"Oh my GOD no way!!!!"

"What?"

"I'm a stoner too!"

"...I got some indica."

"I have a bong-"

"Let's fucking do it."

********

I'm taking a looooong hit, and the only thing you can hear is the sound of bubbly bong water and Midas coughing.

That is, until Charlemagne and Matt decide to scare the living shit out of us.
They must've crept up behind us, because they both yank our tails and growl like they're gonna bite us.

I jump and gasp, letting out a shriek of surprise.

"Midas you took this runt out to smoke?! His lungs are too small for that big bong."
Matt chuckles.

"It's not mine."
Midas states. I can feel my ears shaking again.

"No way. No way it belongs to that-...that showdog."

"Well this 'showdog' was arrested for peddling drugs! S-so, weed is the one I choose to use nowadays. I was forced to be a drug boy. I can't stop smoking now even if I wanted to, and I don't."
I yelp. Even my words sound like they come from a scared puppy.

"A drug peddler? Were you broke?"
Charlemagne asked, sitting beside me. He is majestic.

"Yes. I was forced into a gang after my parents died. I was the drug delivery boy. They watched my every move so I couldn't get help from the cops. When they caught me I was so happy... "

"How were you caught?" Matt asks.

"I kept blacking out. Turns out I was killing members of the gang in my sleep."

"Uh-... wow, really?"
Midas giggles.

"Yes. They treated me so badly though. One tried to prostitute me. I blacked out. While I was unconscious I tore out his throat veins then dumped him in the lake."

"You are so cute!"
Charlemagne chuckles and pinches my cheek.
I hide behind Midas, who wraps an arm around me gratefully. I'm not a man stealer.

Charlemagne purses his lips.

Matt scratches the back of his head.
"So, what strain is it?"
He asks. I notice his eyes sparkle in the moonlight.

"OG."
I reply. My face is probably glistening too. With nervous sweat. I snuck that weed in my asshole.

Matthias grins, shakes his head and clicks his tongue. "Naughty, naughty. You have uncontrolled asthma. No smoking."

I stare up at him, sheepishly tucking my tail behind my legs. "B-but-...How did you know?"

"I'm the doctor that ran all those tests while you were in a coma." Matt explains.

"I-I can't just stop smoking. I'm too stressed."
I whimper.

"Neither can I. But your lungs are very, very weak. Your Ni-Ox scores were abnormally high."

"I'm sorry..." I whine guiltily.

"Hey hey hey, don't make that face at me. I have a prescription for you. You can get it in the morning."
Matt chimes, before handing me a wax pen.
"What flavors do you like? There's menthol wax in there."

I gasp and wag my tail excitedly. "Thank you so much Alpha!!!" I exclaim, before feeling an incredibly strange sensation, as if I was shrinking...

And now I'm a dog.
Uh oh.