A splatter of mud hits Treacle on the snout, followed by another, sailing above overhead.
Splat!
Onto the pressed white shirt of Sixlegs.
“Treacle!”
Wot in butt-lickin’ hell?
As two small muddy fourlegs scramble up from the pooping pipe hole and trot towards him, crossing the High Street and dangerously dodging roundlegs.
Hi ho Treacle, snifz yuz Treacle! yaps Smudge, who lives with hindlegs in a right proper house den.
Yo, blind doggy, snifz yuz adds Mouse, a daft streetlegs who tags along with any fourlegs wotz out walkies.
I’m not blind yer butt-lickin’ muttwit, that’s him Treacle starts for the thousandth time wotz behind, lyk
Thwack
The roundlegs catches Mouse and sucks him underneath, brakes squealing, Jemmapackmate screaming, fourlegs barking. Mouse tumbling over and over beneath the roundlegs and spitting out behind.
I’m okay, I’m okay Mouse squeals, staggering in the road, snapped legs attempting to carry him towards Treacle.
“nowlookhereTreacle,what’sthehoohaa?”
Mouse sinks onto his snout.
I’m okay, real-
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