Cuck0o88 said to close the lid on little Pippa. It felt a bit odd, but everyone clapped and I went for it. When Pippa first sniffed her new suitcase-turned-cushioned-bed, her tail wagged left-right-left-right, like a pendulum on meth. My lifeline, she deserved this treat. Literally, she’s the only one who hadn’t left my side through my skint days. See, bald prick Tom had no respect for my being on the socials. Too old to get what it takes. He and his pathetic Not on the job, lad! and Don’t bother coming in. Keep your fake client-facing smiles and minimum wage, Tom, look who’s trending now. Monetizing too. Yeah, I hesitated, but the wisdom of the masses, that’s magic. Mum always went to church. Me, I livestream #PackPippa on Sundays, when the clock hits midnight. But you’ve subscribed, so you know that already.
Pippa’s been a real sport about it – must be that bit of Corgi blood in her. What with the suitcases getting smaller. And smaller. My mates online came up with that idea. I worried at first, obviously I wouldn’t wanna hurt her. But when I looked at the numbers: h o l y f u c k.
And I try to make it snuggly for her in there. Like when Samsonite reached out, I made them line the insides of the trolley with pink velvet. And that bakery box, complete with luxury dog biscuits. Still, we’ve had a few bumps. Like the time she weed all over that AllSaints vintage leather bag when the zipper zipped. Or that Ikea plastic container, shoebox-sized – bit cramped, I didn’t love that, but this is about something bigger than just me and her. She’s a brave soul, Pippa, loyal. She knows how important this is. And when she gets bitey, I tell her: Luv ya, but we can’t have a little mutt running a big show, can we?
My people voted for a lock box. You put the thing in, set the time limit, and it shuts. We did 30 seconds for starters and people went wild watching the countdown: tick, tock, tick, tock. Slow and steady wins the bloody race. I turned the radio up – louder than the barking – and just watched the £££s pour in. Hear that, Tom? You backwards twat.
M@ster755 had a custom lock box delivered: see through, pet-casket-shaped, 20 minutes in minimum. Sent a taser too, just in case. Pippa pointed her ears when I unboxed it. Then started clawing at the corner of the room. Left-right-left-right-left-right-left-right.
She’s pure gold. Practically a GIF. I made all that into a teaser, uploaded it, and smashed the platform.
Yes, your name will be up there on the wall too next time we air. The final drop!
But me and you, we’re just getting started. Thanks for your support.
***
Here, Pippa, Pippa, Pippa. Have a little go?
Feeling feisty are we? Come now, it’ll be so much better if you go in conscious. Yes it will. Yes it will.
Just a little taste then?
Right.
In.
You.
Go.
That’s a pup.
Otto is the pen name of a London-based social scientist. His writing appeared on Strix, MiniMag and The Viridian Door.
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