Waterdog

(originally written 2022 because YouTube won't stop recommending me Family Guy clips. I have no idea if this is canon accurate. I've barely seen Family Guy sans the tons of clips YouTube won't stop sending me. Made lots of references to other episodes and gags. Can you find them all?)

Quahog, Rhode Island.

It was a small town off the east coast of the US. It was one you proud to call it your home. Of course, despite being a small town it sure wasn't quiet. Talking animals, constant celebrity visits and regularly occurring cataclysmic events were all among the norm here. A few years back some genius built a comically large boomerang and shot himself in it towards the hospital only to destroy part of the children's wing then fly back. That same hospital wing was also bombed for unknown reasons years later too.

You also recall someone obtaining a life-size replica of the Hindenburg and crashing it into their neighbour’s house. How they even got hold of such a ship was beyond you.

However, despite all that went on in Quahog it was a nice place. Well, that and the cheap housing prices. There was a meth epidemic and crime wave here some time ago that crashed the entire market. Suffice to say you were able to get a decently sized house for cheap.

The past few days had been spent preparing for the upcoming hurricane Michael Caine, not to be confused with hurricane Dean Caine. Record rains, power outages and furious winds were on their way. At least it wasn't as bad as Hurricane Flozelle from a few years ago. You recall that one completely destroying the town and relocating it to Washington, DC.

You had evacuated yesterday just as the pitch black clouds and howling winds started rolling in.

It had now been a day since the city had started its battle with Michael Caine. You were completely safe out in Farmton with some relatives. It was far enough out that the water couldn't reach it.

Much as you 'enjoyed' staying out in the middle of Farmton you were more concerned about what had happened to your house. Also finding out if there was anyone stranded but mostly your house. Judging from the radio there weren't any rescue crews going back in.

You figured most of the city had been washed away anyways but it was worth a look.

So you borrowed a small fishing boat and dropped it in the edge of the floodwaters. You were now sailing the 'Quahog Sea', trying to make your way to your house. You kept a shortwave radio on the news just to hear if any updates were given out.

The rain had overtaken properties and streets, drowning them in water. Street signs were still visible so you at least knew where you were.

You spot a sign; you had just entered a street a few blocks from your house.

Spooner Street.

Now Playing...

Artist: Squid on the Grid

Song: Thank You Longyou

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUoQXwHeEWQ

The road was on higher land so the tide wasn't as high but you doubted any of the houses here would survive without water damage. The city had been issued evacuation orders this morning so predictably there wasn't a soul in sight. The power had been knocked out at some point too. The only light present was from the sun, buried behind dark clouds.

It gave everything a grey haze to it.

You sat on the boat seat, full raincoat on as the rain lightly fell. No point in turning on the engine, the tide was taking you in the direction you wanted.

Though windy out here, it wasn't strong enough to make you uncomfortable. It was very cold though. Even with a full yellow raincoat and windbreaker it wasn't enough. It was quite chilly out.

You look around, surveying the hurricane's damage to the street. Your eyes settle on a yellow house, blue roof. From the side of the house something was almost getting swept away. It was caught on a nearby tree.

It looked to be a....helicopter? Where did that even come from? There were no airports nearby. You turn on the engine and steer the boat towards the house to get a better look.

It was a two-passenger blue helicopter stuck half in the water. It appeared to be based off a person, what with the two huge eyes on the top, pink-ish hat and glasses on it. Must have been custom built. The tail was caught on a tree, holding it from being swept off. You figure it belongs to whoever owns this house.

You half consider trying to fly it or at least tying it to you boat to haul off. The fact they even had a helicopter was intriguing. What other oddities did the owners of the house possess? You look at the tree. Seemed sturdy enough. You drive up to it and take the rope out. You hastily tie it to the boat and tree ensuring the knot was tight. You drop the anchor only to find the water was about a metre deep. With the boat secure you grab the legs of the helicopter and help yourself out onto the ground.

The water was about a metre high. Enough that you could walk in no problem.

You do a quick once-over to check for anyone around. Not a soul in sight. You check around the side of the house and its neighbours for any security cameras. You think you see one from the front door of the house across the street. With all the street lights out you doubt it was even functional.

Somehow there was a large bath tub floating in front of the house. You wonder if someone had been using it as a boat. You wait a few minutes for any movement. Seeing there was nobody there you turn your attention back to the yellow house. A sign on front indicates it is house 31. Curiosity got the better of you. Your house can wait, your more curious about why these guys had a helicopter.

Aside from the helicopter there weren't any vehicles left behind. Their yard, though submerged was still pretty barren. The only thing of note you notice is a sign with a flag on it. It had a crude drawing of some man and read Petoria below, with "formally" scribbled just above it.

Despite harsh winds and rising waters there didn't seem to be much damage done to this house. The lights were all off, as to be expected. In case they had a camera in front you decide to go around the back.

The backyard, though on higher ground was still submerged in water.

Through the waddling you nearly trip on something in the backyard.

"Shit." You mutter as you almost fall over. Kicking with your foot you determine it must be a sandbox or something. Either way it was stuck to the ground.

"H-Hey! Anyone there?" You hear someone call out from behind some bushes. You duck slightly, trying not to be seen. You hope it wasn't the owners.

"Lois? Stewie? Anyone? I need some help guys. C'mon! Please? It's not funny anymore." The voice behind the bushes spoke. He sounded worried.

You decide, what the hell. Might as well see what's happening over there.

You waddle over to the bushes. "Hello?" You call back.

"Oh thank god, I’m over here! Please. I can't get out of here." The person called back. You step beside the tops of bushes to see...a dog?

You weren't sure but it was some kind of animal. Its nose was just barely above the water. A chain was visible near it attached to a pole almost fully submerged too. That must be a dog. You think. Judging by the height of the water he must have been standing on his hind legs.

"Are you alright?" You ask, confused if it was dog speaking.

The dog raised his head just enough to get his mouth out of the water."Does it look like I’m alright? Unshackle me! I'm gonna drown here!" The dog shouted back. He was struggling to keep his mouth above water.

"Alright, alright. I'll get ya. Just hold tight."

You take a step only to fall deeper into the water where the ground dropped off. "Whoa!" You try to get your balance back. It must have been a ditch. You are submerged up to your stomach by flood waters.

Your jacket managed to prevent water from soaking your clothes but you couldn't remain here for long.

"Oh, uh, I'm in a gully. There's a drop off."

You sigh. "Would've been nice to know a few seconds ago." You say, slightly annoyed. At least you were still dry. "A chain, huh?" You look at how exactly he was tied up.

"It's, ugh, attached to my collar. I can't move much." He said, desperately. You wondered how long he'd been here. The official evacuation notice was earlier today, he must've been here for a few hours at least.

You manoeuvre around the dog, careful not to step on him. The chain was dug right through the wooden pole. You didn't have the tools to cut through.

You reach down and try to find the collar touching where you guess it would be. While doing so some of water slips into your sleeve starting to wet your clothes. "Shit." You say.

"What happened?" The dog sounded worried that he wouldn't be able to get out.

"Nothing. Just a bit of water." You try again only to know feel some of the water soaking into the jacket. "Screw this. I'm just gonna rip the pole out." You say, frustrated. You grab a hold of the pole. The constant rainfall had made the ground soft and mushy. You wiggle it around and with a bit of strength rip it out. It floats on top of the water.

"It's out. Can you move?" You ask.

"I think so." The dog starts tries to get up then falls over into the water. "Uh, can you help me? I don't know where I am."

"Okay. Let me grab you."

You bend down and pick the dog up. With both hands around his belly you lift him up. He's not that heavy so you hoist him to the top of the backyard, yourself climbing up shortly after.

With your shirt starting to get wet you stop caring about trying to stay dry. It was fruitless.

Now above water for the first time in who knows how long he looks around. The water was about up to his shoulders but he seemed relieved to. He was panting heavily now being able to breathe through his mouth instead of his nose. "Oh, thank you." He let out a sigh of relief. He was drenched and his fur soaked. The stake was now floating in the water.

"Here, let me." You say to him and take off the chain from the collar. The chain and pole float away in the rainwater.

Now looking at him he looked a bit...familiar. He was a white-furred Labrador retriever with a large nose and red collar. You swear you've seen him before somewhere.

You check his collar.

"Brian, eh?" There was also a phone number listed to but Brian seemed intelligent enough that you didn't think you'd need it. The name didn't ring a bell but something familiar about him.

"That's me. Thanks for helping me out. You live around here?"

"Yeah, a few streets over. Names (Y/N)."

"Oh my god. Look at this place!" Brian said, now really seeing the damage. "Oh no, Stewie! I gotta see if he's okay!" Brian shouted and started wading through the water to the house.

"Guys! Guys! There's water everywhere! We gotta get out of here!" He shouted, scratching at the door. It didn't occur to him that they likely left.

You go up to the window and peer in. All the lights were off and the only light source was from the sun hidden somewhere behind the clouds. It looked damp inside, some moisture likely having got in. There was no activity. Brian was barking at the door now, trying to get the owner's attention. You decide to fill him in.

"Uhh, Brian?" You rub the back of your neck. "There was an evacuation order this morning. I don't think your family is here."

"No. That's impossible! They wouldn't just leave me behind! Move over, let me see." Brian left the door and climbed up to the window, peering in. Just as you saw, there was no movement. If they were somewhere in there they weren't on this floor. The lack of cars in the drive indicated they were probably long gone.

As Brian looked in you notice his ears and tail droop in sadness.

"They forgot me! They actually forgot me! I can't believe this!" Brian said, frustrated.

There was something about Brian you still couldn't put your finger on. He reminded you a bit of your dog back home. Talkative and very expressive. He also reminded you of another talking dog you'd met once. He was also a white-furred Labrador retriever. That dog was a lost more flamboyant thought. You swore you recognized him from somewhere.

The fact that Brian was the third talking dog you'd ever met and had that strange familiarity, you decide to help him out.

"Well, I'm staying out in Farmton for the hurricane. You can stay with me if you want. We can find your family after all this."

Before you even finished your sentence his tail started wagging in happiness, he turned to you, eyes full of joy. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Nah, course not. I have a dog too, long as you get along with him it should be fine."

"Thank you so much! I owe you one. Wait. Farmton?"

"Yeah. You know it?"

"Y-yeah. I lived there once. Then the, uh, house blew up."

"Huh." You don't recall any explosions in Farmton, though you were relatively new to the area. It probably happened before.

"Let's get going. I got a boat parked out front."

"Not yet. I need to grab my stuff."

"Alright. But we need to be quick." You look on the horizon, darker clouds were slowly moving in. You also notice the temperature drop as well, though that could have been cause of your damp clothes.

"Stand back. I'm gonna break in." Brian said. He looked under the water for something. You step away.

"You sure that's alright?" You ask, worried of the possible implications.

Brian re-surfaced with a rock. "Nobody's gonna know. And I live here." He took a few steps back then aimed it at the window.

"Rrah!" Brian threw the rock at the window smashing it. With an opening present Brian leapt up to the window sill and reached in, unlatching it. With a careful push he opened the entire window up.

"No security cameras right?" You wanted to be sure.

"Only at the front of the neighbour’s house. But so what? They abandoned me. I deserve to do this."

"Hrm. Alright."

"Coming in?" Brian asked.

Figuring that he owned the place anyways you comply. Maybe you could find some dry clothes too. You climb in, careful to avoid all the broken glass.

"I'll be right back. I just need to get my laptop and stuff." Brian runs off upstairs leaving you alone.

Just feeling the air in it here it was damp and musty. The floor was slightly wet. You figure the basement, if they had one, was flooded. You look around. It was a typical suburban kitchen. It had a carpeted floor, table in the centre, oven, various appliances and more. The power was clearly out as none of the appliances displayed anything.

There was a jukebox on the counter that seemed really out of place but for the most part it was a regular kitchen.

You figure you should see if Brian would let you get some clothes but decide to wait for him for now. You check the fridge. You were feeling a bit peckish.

There wasn't anything too appetizing inside. Just a bunch of random stuff. There were a few large bottles of what you think was milk. Three jars lined the top shelf with MILK written sloppily on one. You guess the others weren't milk. Maybe cream?

There were a few beer bottles in the door. They were all from the Pawtucket Brewery. There was a note on it that read 'From: Preston Lloyd".

There was a poorly plastic wrapped old thanksgiving meal with the plastic wrap barely covering the whole thing.

On the bottom shelf was a really sad looking salad in a lasagne tray. There were also some leftover pancakes cut in the shape of the Superman S. You decide you aren't that hungry and can wait.

The freezer was pretty barren with only a half-eaten fudgesicle in it and what you hope wasn't blood splattered all over the place.

On top of the fridge was a dog whistle you decide to pocket. You could always do with one. There was also a jar labelled "rainy day fund" but it was empty.

You assume Brian must be packing up whatever he needs. You decide to step into the living room. Like the kitchen it was a typical suburban room.

Just next to you was a stereo system and some photos. Two boys and a girl. You guess them to be Brian's owner's kids. You didn't recognize any of them. One of the kids looked to have a birth defect. Why was his head shaped like a football?

On the stereo system was also family photo. Just as you thought you didn't recognize anyone except Brian. Wait a minute! That's where you've seen him. Brian was Sergeant Bark! At least, you think that's where you recognize him.

You guess the door next to you a closet. You open the door to find it empty sans a really old vacuum cleaner.

In the centre of the room were a large purple couch and an ugly rug. In front of the rug was a TV, one of those CRT TVs. Beside it was a recliner in the corner of the room. Same colour as the couch, purple. Judging by the disarray of the couch you figure the family must have left in a hurry.

There were a bunch of objects strewn about the couch. You see what appears to be a snuggie with arms sewn on, a really ugly pink onesie and...a handgun taped to a toy helicopter? Weird. Maybe they were inventors? You pick up the helicopter handgun and rip off the tape. With the intense moisture in here the tapes adhesive peels easily. Checking the safety and clip you decide to keep it. Not like anyone's gonna know anyways. Probably all sorts of looters about too. It's better this way. The gun was still loaded too.

You keep looking around the room. On the recliner sat a book called "Wish it. Want it. Do it." by Brian Griffin. Seeing Brian on the cover made you remember who he really was.

He was the prick that nearly got Christmas cancelled that one year! You weren't sure why he did it but you consider just leaving him then and there.

Your dog was very religious too; if he recognized him it might not bode well.

You hear thunder in the distance. You needed to leave asap. Ehn, it wouldn't be Christmas-like to just abandon him. You decide to grill him on it later. And deal with your own dog later too.

"Brian? You almost ready?"

"Yeah, just give me a sec!" Brian shouts from the second floor.

You notice a rope beside the recliner. It was attached to some woodwork and pulleys that vanish into the ceiling. Still waiting on Brian you decide to pull it. It takes a bit of effort but you yank it down. Suddenly the whole ceiling rises up exposing the house to the elements. Seconds later you hear lots of furniture crashing against walls. Something flies out of an upstairs window as evident by the shattering sound.

WOAAAAAAAAAAH!" Brian shouts from up stairs. You drop the rope instantly causing the house roof to snap back down.

"Don't pull that!" Brian screamed from upstairs. "You coulda killed me!"

"Sorry!" You shout back. That explains the moisture in here at least. Moisture was coming in through the crack. You figure this family must be inventors of some sort. What sort of house would have that contraption? You realize that if there were any cameras watching they definitely would have seen that!

"Brian? We should really get going!" You say worried.

"I'm coming! Just a sec!"

While waiting you spot something out of the corner of your eye. When you go to face it, it vanishes. You could have sworn you saw a ghost of a woman go into a wall. She was watching you. Oh great. This place is haunted too.

You disliked this place more and more each second. You hear scampering from upstairs. Brian runs down the stairs, now dressed in yellow sailor outfit. You recognized it as the kind used for lobster-fishing. He was carrying a briefcase about the size of him. He dried himself off, fur no longer dripping.

Wait, a briefcase? This wasn't to be a permanent thing. Though, now that you think on it, maybe there was a malicious reason he was left behind. You decide you'll have to grill him for details later.

"I'm all ready to go!" Brian declared, showing off his new attire.

"Let's. This place creeps me out."

Brian hops off the stairs and begins going towards the kitchen. Before you could go further Brian stops, dropping his bag. He starts growling. Your eyes follow his. He was growling at that vacuum cleaner.

"So that's where you've been hiding Mr. Hoover."

On all fours he started walking slowly towards it.

"Not so tough are ya when there's no power huh?" Brian said threateningly.

"We should, uh-"

"Not now. Not when he has nowhere to run."

You sigh and just let it happen. Brian leaps at the vacuum cleaner biting into it. His jaws rip through the old fabric sending dust everywhere. Brian fights the vacuum cleaner, pulling it out of the closet and tearing it apart by his claws. He rips the motor head off the handle and throws it against a wall.

"Take that Mr. Hoover! Oh you like cleaning so much? WHY DON'T YOU GO CLEAN OUTSIDE!" Brian lifts the remains of Mr. Hoover and throws it out the front window, smashing it into pieces. It lands somewhere outside, presumably then swept away by the flood waters.

Hands on your hips, you ask. "Are you done now? Can we go?"

Brian was getting his breath back, panting. "Yeah. Let's go. I'm done here." He picks up his briefcase and heads out. You wonder if the house roof even closed properly. Ah whatever, I don't live here anyways.

"What do you got in there anyways?"

"I got my laptop, pencils, favourite wine glass, notebook and my favourite tennis balls." He responded.

"You drink?" You ask surprised.

"Yeah. Why? Don't you?"

"You're a dog though." Could dogs even have alcohol?

"So?"

"I just-"

You almost respond when the house' foundation shakes nearly tripping you both. A club-size bottle of red cool aid powder flies out of one of the cabinets exploding onto the group.

"You okay?" You ask Brian. He nods.

"I was just saying I just thought it my dog was the only one that could drink."

"Nope. All of us can. What does he drink?"

"Red wine."

"Oh nice, I think he and I will get along then."

You exit the kitchen first and help Brian out, taking the briefcase first.

"What kind of dog is he?"

"He’s a pussy hound."

"Really?" Brian asked, impressed.

"Yeah, he's 1/16th cat."

"Oh, I thought you meant something else. I'm part cat too, 1%."

You hear from the boat your radio going off. It was playing a tornado warning. No chance on seeing your house now. It was time to leave Quahog.

"Shit. We gotta go now." You don't take any time to survey what flew out of the house. You hardly notice the wind picking up in the rush. You just almost trip over some see-and-say. You just barely make out that it has weather images on it and some electrical modifications. Did they cause this? No. There's no way.

"Oh no!" Brian stops in the water. "Stewie's mind swap machine!" Brian runs to it, trying to drag it along.

Mindswap machine? You look at the machine Brian was struggling to move. Then you check back at the see-and-say. Maybe they did cause this. You grab it with your free hand and take it.

"We don't have time! Don't you hear the tornado warning?" You shout at Brian to let the 'mindswap machine' go. It was far too big to fit in the boat anyways. The rain had started pouring furiously.

"Aw, sorry Stewie. Let's go!" Brian agrees and the two run off towards the boat. You find it odd that despite being a dog, Brian ran on two legs. He ran like your dog. You hop in dropping off the see-and-say under the seat. The boat stayed relatively dry thanks to the tree it was parked by.

"Should we take the megcopter?" Brian asks.

"Megcopter? What? That?" You point towards the helicopter. Brian says something. Between the impending tornado and the blaring warning you can't make it out. "I don't how to fly. This will be faster!" You shout to Brian over the roaring winds. You start the boat engine and drive off.

Both Brian and you hold on to the boats edges as the engine propels the boat forward.

You'd originally gotten the boat for free as part of a timeshare. Even though it was free, it was strong enough to power through. The boat revs through the raging waters and gets you out of the tornado's range. You and Brian were safe for now, sailing somewhere in uptown Quahog.

"Should be smooth sailing from here."

Now Playing...

Artist: Sabi

Song: Uki Reflection

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SLqAQ6E1bAA

"Ugh, I hope so. I'm exhausted." Brian complained. He was half out of the boat, having thrown up a few times already. The rough waters were not kind to him. Between nearly drowning and nearly getting swept away he was through with the day.

As the two of you sailed throughout Quahog's streets Brian begged you to stop a bar. You allowed Brian to go in. The wind had destroyed the sign. You only see a dark neon sign of a clam. You guess it must be some seafood bar. Brian claimed he knew the owner and that he would be fine.

He came out drunk a few minutes later, collapsing in the boat on his briefcase. By the way he smelled, he likely raided the bar’s liquor cabinet.

"You're a good person you know that?" Brian said, tipsy.

"Y'know you remind me a bit of my dog. He's got more of an Italian accent though."

"Oh really? He apart of the mob too?" Brian slurred.

Most people would've just found it an off-colour remark not worth repeating but you knew a great deal of what your dog could do.

"Yeah...you really shouldn't say that around him. He once gave me a Christmas gift, ended up being someone's foot. It was meant to go to someone else, some mob shit."

"Ah, screw chrishmas..Oh god, you're not mobbed up are you?" Brian stood up, aghast. "Peter-er-my owner, was part of the mob once. Ended up accidentally whacking the guy he was supposed to be with."

You freeze. He wasn't referring to... "His name wasn't Paulie was it?"

"Ugh, I think so." Brian slumped over the boats edge, ready to vomit.

"It was."

"Yeah, you probably shouldn't say anything about that too my dog." You were vaguely aware of who he was talking about. Big Fat Paulie.

"What so he's just part of the mob and you're okay with it?"

You shrug your shoulders. "As long as he keeps me out of it, I don't mind."

"Great. I got picked up by a criminal." Brian had no filter on, the liquor had disintegrated it. He was slurring his words.

"You're one to talk. You practically ruined Christmas that one year!"

"Hey! That washn't my fault....That was..." Brian paused. "And I said I was sorrhhy..." Brian fell flat in the boat and passed out. How much did he drink?

Note to self, don't give Brian alcohol. He's a terrible drunk.

You sigh. You hoped he would get along with Vinny.

With that the boat sailed out of Quahog. You figure you'd let Brian stay just till the storm was over, then find his family. He seemed like a nice enough guy, just a little apprehensive when drunk.

Judging by the clouds, wind and water this hurricane was not letting up any time soon. With that you set sail to Farmton, hoping you wouldn't encounter any more tornadoes.

"Ha-ha! That's all folks!" A talking ostrich proclaimed from a distance.

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I counted 40 references (though I may have missed some or made references I didn't even realize I did).