Pepsico Dialectical Journal

The bell let out a piercing cry and his competitors roared out of the gates. Mr. Quiggly knew his place though and, with little effort, he sprinted to the front. He felt as if he was running with bulls, except the bulls were dogs, and he was the fastest of the aforementioned dogs. With little effort, he passed Silver Prince and moon walked across the finish line. He had earned the Sketchers promotion deal, which he would soon be known for. Panting with acceptance, he stared into the cameras as he had done many times before. Mr. Quiggly won the approval and affection of many Americans that night, but that was all gone now.
The wars that raged on for the little shreds of time for which were known as the Super Bowl Commercials left even the quickest of French bulldogs in the dust for better breeds. Harder drinks soon replaced the water, which usually filled his bowl, to numb his pain. Mountain Dew Kickstart would never torment the clean polished inside of his bowl, and he made sure of it. His work on the track was flawless. PepsiCo’s work in the lab was more so. A cross between his own genes and those of a primate and a human soon replaced him in the super bowl. His airtime was removed from under him. Even his sketchers were to no avail. There was nothing he could do about it. “What do you mean you want a new contract,” his manager uttered. He spoke more. His next actions had the tiny racer all but panting. Quiggly shuddered. The wet newspaper in the corner was replaced. He walked over. It had his name and paw print on top. His knees were weak. His palms were sweaty, except they weren’t; Dogs are not capable of sweating. A note was scrawled on top of the stack; Gerald Fitzpatrick had gone to work for PepsiCo. He remembered an argument where Gerald casually mentioned how PepsiCo was much more interesting and prosperous. Mr. Quiggly assumed it was because they had more puppies, monkeys, and babies. Soon liquor filled his bowl again. The bowl would never be as clean as it was then again. It soon began to show its age with cracks. He began to remember his days before his set paw on the track. He began to pant. He remembered how he traveled to the edges of the world for races. …show more content…
He visited Pamplona and raced the bulls. It was there he met a greyhound named Silver Prince. Mr. Quiggly recalled his exact moves. He turned to his sides. On one side he saw a man being gored by two bulls in hilarious fashion. On the other, he saw his rival for the first time. Mr. Quiggly had raced the bulls many times, but he had never seen this particular greyhound before. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never seen each other before. “She runs well, this skinny bitch,” he thought. It was then he realized he was not capable of speaking. He was discouraged, but with his little red sketchers, he led race. He couldn’t speak, but his paws made up for that. Mr. Quiggly outpaced the greyhound effortlessly. It was the end of his first race against Silver Prince. Mr. Quiggly’s stopped panting. Another memory replaced the cheerful one.