The Dog and the Restaurant: Part 3

Portland burst into tears. She realized now that she would never cease to smell like tacos, and therefore would very likely never hold a job in this world either.

"Don't cry, little doggie," Ben said.
"But now I'll never get a job."
"Come now, that's nonsense. A talking dog can get any kind of job he or she would want!"
"She."
"You're a she?"
"Yes."
"You don't sound like it."
"Do I sound like I eat garbage?"
"What?"
She started crying again.

Once she calmed down, Ben discovered that she came from Narnia. At first Ben was skeptical, thinking that this random computer-traveling, taco-smelling talking dog was some kind of promotion for the new Narnia movie. Portland promptly dismissed that idea by peeing on Ben's shirt.

"So why are you here?" Ben asked.
"I need to get a job," Portland replied. "No one would ever hire me because I smell like tacos."
"Not to mention you're a dog."
"Do people not hire dogs in your world?"
"I think maybe, but the economy's really bad, and nobody really likes tacos--"
"Could you help me find a job??!!"
"Um, well..."
"Oh great! Thank you, Aslan!"

After stops at several neighborhood Taco Bells that were not willing to hire a talking dog, Ben took Portland to the one Tex-Mex place where it would make perfect sense to see a dog working: Don Pablo's. Portland was hired the moment they walked into the restaurant.

"What kind of work can I do?" Portland asked.
"What do you think we'd have a talking dog do?" said the Don Pablo's manager. "Answer the phones!"

THE END.

The Dog and the Restaurant: Part 2

Ben's coworker ignored him, and he abandoned the "butt" idea almost as quickly as he said it. He tried to think of something better to blog about, but nothing came to him. He decided to just post a picture and make some stupid comment about it. He began an image search with the phrase "talking dog."

And back in Narnia...

Portland arrived at home and turned on her old, barely functioning computer. It gradually whirred to life, and Portland rushed as quickly as she could to find the blog Aslan had directed her to. She googled the title and clicked the first link. It delivered her to an orange page with some pictures and some words on it, and that's when Portland remembered--she was illiterate!

"I'm illiterate, Aslan!" she yelled. "I can't read the blog! What should I do?" She lowered her head in resignation and leaned against the screen. "I'll never get out of Narnia," she said. "My dreams of getting a steady job where they don't think I smell like tacos will never come true."

And then she fell forward into the computer screen.

And then back in Earth again...

Ben's image search for a talking dog was proving fruitless. None of the pictures came with audio, so it could not be verified whether any of the pictured dogs could actually talk. Ben, however, would not be slowed by common sense and decided to post about a talking dog anyway. He clicked on to the next page to find a more suitable picture, but as soon as the page loaded, a live dog burst out of the computer screen.

"Hello," the dog said. "My name is Portland."
"Whoa," said Ben, "you smell an awful lot like tacos."

To be further continued...

The Dog and the Restuarant: Part 1

This is a story about a lady dog by the name of Portland. She lived in relative obscurity in the land of Narnia, where she could never hold a job more than a week. She was a good worker, but everybody she worked with thought she reeked like tacos.

After she lost her job as creative consultant to Two and a Half Centaurs, the Narnian equivalent of Two and a Half Men, Portland decided it would be best to leave Narnia forever.

"I'm through with this jerkwater dimension," she declared as she stormed home to her apartment beneath the onion patch. But before she could take another two steps, Asland appeared before her and blocked the path.

"So you wish to leave Narnia, do you, Portland?" he said.
"Yes."
"I must tell you that it is almost impossible for a Narnian creature to leave Narnia."
"Aw nuts."
"There is one way, but it takes great sacrifice."
"Please tell me, O Aslan."
"Do you have access to the Ninternet?"
"Yes."
"Then go home and visit the blog known as Garbage: Left, Recycling: Right. There you shall find your way."

At that Aslan disappeared. "Oh, thank you, Aslan!" Portland yelled, and she scampered home as quickly as she could.


Meanwhile, in Earth...

Ben said to his coworker, "Today on my blog, every other word I use is going to be a variation of the word 'butt.'"

To be continued...