Okay. How this works is I provide a very small story, say no more than eight hundred words, and you can either write your own variation of the story, or you can add to mine, create an alternate ending. This is different, I know, but why not give it a try and see what comes of it? Post your variation on your blogs and let me know when your ready for me to stop by and take a gander. Here we go:
Chomper and Donkey
The dog emerged from the shadows, its muzzle wet and dripping with a dark liquid Donkey cared not to look at. Chomper had killed again, the mangy mutt. But Donkey knew if he said anything Chomper would definitely be angry. And what then? Would Chomper eat Donkey too? Donkey shuddered at the thought. Chomper could be a real prick when he wanted to be, Donkey had the bite marks to prove it. Not to mention his missing tail too. Chomper trotted over, grinning, blood spattering the sidewalk.
"Got'em, Donk. Good eats all aroun'." Said Chomper as he came to a stop before Donkey.
"Good fa you Chompa." Donkey said, hoping his smile was at least partially convincing.
It must have been because Chomper nodded and turned to look back at the small house he had just finished dinning in.
"Damn good eats, Donk. The man tried to trick me but I gotts him b'for he could so much as wiggle that steak at me. Dumb human."
"We betta get a move along, Chompa. Don' wanna be 'round when more humans show up." Donk said, his voice soft.
"Yeah." Chomper said and began padding down the sidewalk.
Donk followed behind Chomper, his heart trip-hammering in his furry chest. He should've never gotten hooked up with Chomper to begin with. Chomper was mean, evil almost. The mutt loved to kill people, something whick Donk didn't much like at all. Donk was a simple, usually kind hearted animal, if not a little odd looking. He knew he was ugly, but that didn't mean he was a bad a guy, did it? No. Of course it didn't. Donk just had no other friends anymore. Chomper was the only friend left, and Chomper had made damn sure of it too. Donk was a prisoner here. Chomper was the warden, and executioner. If Donk tried to leave, Chomper would kill him sure as shit out of a cows' bum.
So Donk kept his mouth shut, and followed his insane dog friend. He followed, knowing he was a prisoner, and nothing he could do, besides die, would release him from it. Chomper held him at bay with horror and terror. Tomorrow night they will come back to town. Tomorrow night Chomper will eat his meal of human flesh and so continued Donk's miserable life. How many were there in store, he wondered? Just how many could he take? The answer was simple: Not many at all.