Milk Dog

This dialogue is a sequel. For the full effect, you should read "Got Milk?"  first.

"Bowser! Bad dog!"

"Grrr!"

"Don't you growl at me! I can't believe you bit that little boy!"

"Put that newspaper down. You swat me and I'll bite you. Hand that feeds or not, I'm in no mood."

"Oh my god! You can talk!"

"Yes. Now get over it. Start the car. We're going to the vet."

"This is incredible!"

"Focus on the injured animal. Car. Vet. Now. Let's go."

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"Why? Why couldn't that nice lady have adopted me? Taken me home to her age-restricted condo. Sweet heaven! Nice, single, childless lady. I'm not that big of a dog. I could have stayed small for her."

"You never used to whine, not before you started talking."

"Hush. I'm in pain here. Leave me alone. More ice."

"Does drama run in your breed?"

"Can a dog get a little sympathy?"

"Honestly, you have to admit, it was a little funny."

"No. Funny would be that little milking monster as a chew toy."

"Bowser! Don't talk like that!"

"And it wouldn't be me that got hauled into court. That might be funny."

"Hilarious, and you'd get the business end of a .38 for your trouble."

"Maybe. Maybe it would be worth it. Maybe you should sell this place and move somewhere safer. Somewhere a dog can roam unmolested."

"I just bought this house."

"Look, you got a deal on this place and I think we both know why now."

"What are you saying?"

"Did you talk to the Hendersons? Ask them why they sold?"

"They moved to California. Closer to the kids. People do that."

"But the timing Miller, think about the timing."

"What about it?"

"A year ago. Think! Just about the time a certain someone was old enough to toddle across the street."

"You're crazy."

"Crazy? Maybe. But I wonder."

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"Let me in! For the love of God, let me in!"

"What!? What's the matter, Bowser?"

"Quick, man! Now lock the door. Hurry!"

"What has gotten into you?"

"Nothing, nothing. Look, Miller, I'm an indoor dog now, ok? I'll just have to bury my bones in the laundry hamper I guess."

"What happened?"

"I saw that kid, Bully, again..."

"Billy. His name is Billy."

"Whatever. He had this little plastic shovel in one hand and in the other..."

"What? Not a gun! It was probably just a toy..."

"No, no. He had a pail, Miller! A pail!"

"A pail?"

"Yes! I know, I know. Probably just going to play in the sand, right? But what if it was for milking? It could've been a milk pail!"

"Bowser! Get a grip! The kid is only four!"

"Only four? I'm not even two! Kid? He's a monster!"

"Calm down."

"Fill up my water dish—and I don't mean with water—then I'll calm down."

"Fine, we'll split a bottle. If you're still talking when I wake up in the morning, remind me and I'll check the real estate listings."

"Now you're talking sense. Get away before Bully does any lasting damage."

"Billy."

"Whatever."