Turds and Tentacles

"By Balu's beard mother, how many times do I have to tell you"? Gurok paused, holding the edge of the door looking back into the room. "When it starts you press down the record AND play button AT THE SAME TIME"! Irritated he stomped off into the snow leaving the door open wide.

"Sheesh, he should have some decency!" Bralok slammed the door shut and returned to the battered-up radio they found in the middle of this dimension. "So...record and play at the same time?" He squeezed his fat tentacles onto the buttons. The door flew back open and Gurok zoomed

in, carried by the zero gravity and his jetpack. “Wow, what a rush!” Gurok enthused. Bralok rolled his eyes and stretched his tentacles. “Can it,” he barked. “I’m here to interrogate you.” He nodded at the tape recorded. “This is being preserved, so choose your words carefully.”

Gurok furrowed his brow, focusing. “Okay,” he said. “Ask me whatever you want.” Bralok nodded, his eyes moving back to the tape recorder as he wet his lips and began. “Have you been letting your dog take a dump in my yard?” Gurok gulped, trying to look calm.

If Bralok was asking, did that mean he didn't have security cameras? Gurok hoped so. Sure, it could totally be the dog's fault. Bralok could never know that Gurok himself was the one shitting in his yard. He took a deep breath and replied with more assurance than he felt.

“My dog, uh, has a gluten intolerance, and he got into my breadbox,” Gurok said unconvincingly. Bralok gracefully accepted this answer, while recognizing it as a big smelly lie. No matter he thought. I’ll simply return the favor. The shared experience would bring the men closer.