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“Does he bite?” Tony Plumber asked nervously, when the big black Alsatian came trotting up to them.
“Oh, no — he’s very friendly,” Karen Blackburn assured him as she reached out to pet the dog. Tony and Karen had just entered her apartment, and the Alsatian had come down the hall to meet them. He was wagging his tail, but he still made Tony a bit wary. The hall was dimly lit, and the big brute looked like a black shadow — a black shadow with gleaming white fangs and a long, red, wet tongue.
“Good boy,” Karen said, stroking the dog behind the ears.
He cocked his head and whined happily.
“Er — what’s his name?” Tony inquired.
At the sound of the man’s voice, the dog turned a baleful amber eye upon him and curled his black lip up, revealing his ominous fangs.
He didn’t seem the sort of dog that a girl would keep strictly for company as a pet, thought Tony. He looked more like some great brute used to guard prisoners in a Nazi concentration camp or to run down and savage escaping slaves.
In fact, Karen did not keep the dog strictly as a pet — although she petted him a lot.
“Rover,” she said, laughing. “Isn’t that such a classic name for a doggy?”
“Yeah,” Tony replied, thinking it was really an absurd name for such a savage-looking beast, but not wanting to antagonize Karen in any way — at least not before he got into her pants.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.