Friday, October 5, 2012


Andrew Hilbert lives in Austin, TX, runs the Cheesepaper, and eats fucking Doritos.

Fido was a good dog. He rarely barked or shat inside or bit anyone but one day, while I ate breakfast and read the paper and, while my wife slept in, Fido sat beside me.
“Who was that strange woman over yesterday, Bob?” he asked me. His tongue was out and he was panting like normal and looking up at me with dumb eyes that seemed perpetually incapable of proper grammar or complex thought.

“What?” I asked. I put the paper on the table and spit out my bagel.
“That strange woman who came home with you on your lunch break, who was she? She quickly undressed, you unzipped your pants and you took turns eating each other’s lower parts for lunch.”

“Shut up before Angela hears you!” I whacked him in the head with my paper. He whimpered and cowered away from me.
“Can I have some of your bacon?”

“Only if you promise never to speak of my lunch again.”
“What if Angela offers me more bacon?”

“Then don’t ask for any bacon and don’t say a goddamn thing.”
I could hear shuffling from our bedroom. Angela was waking up. Her footsteps down the stairs were slow and measured. She was probably still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and walked slowly to avoid falling down.

She wrapped her arms around me from behind when she finally got down.
“Good morning, love,” she said to me, her eyes still adjusting to the reality of the work day.

“Good morning,” I answered with one eye straight ahead to my newspaper and another eye threatening euthanasia to Fido if he decided to show off his new found speaking abilities.
“Did you toast a bagel for me?” Angela asked with a kiss on my ear.

“Shit, I didn’t expect you to be up so early,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“I heard you talking to someone and that’s what woke me up. It’s okay.”

Fido let out a little bark and I kicked him as hard as my cotton slipper could manage. He yelped and hobbled to his dog food bowl.
“Why does Fido look so sad?” Angela asked. On her way to the kitchen to toast her own bagel, she pet Fido and gave him kisses. His tail wagged wildly.

“I love you poochy-poo,” she said to him as he slobbered all over her. She walked into the kitchen.
“I like her better than you, asshole,” Fido whispered to me. “Give me more bacon or I’m talking.”

I grabbed a few strips of bacon and threw them on the floor.

His tail wagged in delight and Angela took a seat next to me.
“You’re feeding him bacon?”

“Why not? The dog deserves bacon every now and then.”
“If he gets fat I’m blaming you!”

Fido was sitting between us, staring at the bacon.

I looked to Angela. Her eyes were daring me to give him more bacon.

“You’re going to spoil him,” she said.
Fido started growling.

“What’s gotten into him?” Angela asked.
I grabbed a few more strips of bacon and threw them at the far corner of the living room. Fido ran to the corner and chowed down.

“I can’t believe you’re giving him more. That much bacon isn’t even healthy for a human.”
“Well, whatever. I’m in a good mood.”

“He’s going to get sick!”
“The he’ll learn the hard way, won’t you Fido?”

Fido’s ears perked up and he walked slowly to me. I could hear him growling. Angela got up to put her dish in the sink.
“Hard way, huh?” Fido taunted. “I know my limits. Give me more, you fuck.”

I grabbed for more but mid-clench Angela walked back in. She was angry.
“Bob!” she yelled, “That’s enough!”

Fido’s growling got louder and he started barking.
“You’re turning him into a monster! Listen to him!”

“Listen, lady! You’ll shut up if you knew what was good for you!” Fido barked back at her.
Angela’s face went flush. She didn’t know whether to be angry, confused, excited, or all three.

“What’d you say, Fido?” she asked.

I grabbed the bacon and threw it to the far corner of the room again.
“Did Fido just talk?” Angela asked me.

“Your imagination. It’s acting up again. Are you off your depression meds?” I asked.
“Don’t blame this on me!” Angela got up and started crying. She was definitely off her meds.

“There was nothing to blame on anyone! I wasn’t blaming anything on you! I just asked a simple question.”
She threw her slippers at me.

“I know what you’re getting at! Everything’s in my head! All my questions about where you’ve been – the answer is always, ‘You’re just crazy, baby!’ Fuck you! Fido spoke. Are you off your deaf meds?!” she was wailing, red-faced, and violent.
“There are no deaf meds, honey. That makes no sense.”

“Ohhh – I’m the one not making sense as always! Of course I’m off my meds! I never needed them in the first place!”
Meanwhile, Fido’s tail was wagging like crazy and bruising my leg. His penis was hard and revealed like he was getting off on our fight. He lifted his paw to the table, pointing at the bacon.

“Give me the bacon,” he whispered.
“You fucking pervert!” I yelled as I threw the plate of bacon against the wall. He ran to the pile of broken porcelain and delicious pig and lapped it up.

“What’d you call me?!” Angela roared from the stove. “I have to cook more bacon because you didn’t have the heart to think about me! Some other bitch at work is always on your mind!”
“I didn’t say anything to you.”

“I heard you call me pervert!”
“Maybe you heard the dog!”

“Fuck you, Bob. Fuck you!” she walked out of the kitchen and threw the burning bacon grease at my face. Fido, having finished the last pile of bacon I made, jumped on me and began licking.
“Fuck you, Fido! I’m burning here!”

He put his two paws around my head and pushed my ear toward his mouth.
“Think about what you say,” he said.

Angela walked in the living room. Calmer than before she threw bacon grease at me. She was chewing on her own bacon strip. The bacon must have calmed her down. I threw Fido off of me and ran toward the kitchen, knowing that my only tool for Fido’s silence was in there; Angela’s fresh pile of bacon.
As soon as I grabbed for it, Angela jumped on my back.

“You’re no taking any of my bacon!” she yelled and kicked and screamed.
I gave up.
“Fine,” I said and watched Fido as his interest shifted to Angela and her bacon.

“You’re the only thing that loves me,” she said as she pet him.
Fido went closer to her ear and I heard him say, “I’ll tell you a few of Bob’s secrets for some bacon.”

Angela fed him a strip.



  1. Andrew can open your eyes to his own world & that's what real writers accomplish. He used to run Beggars & Cheeseburgers, with a name like that, well it's outstanding.