The Tyrant Who Kidnapped Me seems to be napping, so I've snuck up to his computer and hijacked his account to send you email, describing my plight.

I don't know what ruse he used to trick you into letting him put me in his car, but you need to know, this was an out-and-out dogpeople kidnapping. I was fooled for a few minutes by the fact that you helped him put me in the same dungeon-crate that you use to take me on quick trips.

But, I figured out pretty quickly that this was not an ordinary trip, because neither of you were with me. I started whining out my demands that he return me, but he was adamant. I whined endlessly, yet he acted as if he did not understand, even laughing at my predicament. Realizing I was faced with a hard case, I escalated the battle and used my most powerful weapon: every time he looked back at me, I unleashed my huge sad brown eyes upon him, telling him in no uncertain terms, "I shall NEVER trust you AGAIN unless you take me BACK NOW". But he has only ice where dogpeople have their hearts, and my efforts to make him listen to reason were in vain.

We traveled on and on. We passed into an area where the aroma of garlic was so profound I just knew there had to be food (editor's note - they were passing through Gilroy, California - Garlic Capital of the World), and lots of it, close at hand. I looked yearningly out the window, but he did not stop. Soon he started weaving the car back and forth -- perhaps the road had become winding, I could not see from where I was trapped -- and when I whined that this weaving back and forth was unacceptable, he again paid no attention.

Eventually we reached the expressway, and he accelerated, desperately rushing down the road to ensure that you could not catch up (I am sure that by this time, you were aware that I had been kidnapped, and were searching frantically for me). However, I was still suffering from the earlier weaving about. Of course I threw up, what else could I have done?

So there I was in the back of the car, with vomit staring me in the face. You know how sensitive my nose is. This stuff was so vile that, hungry though I was, I still did not eat it.

And the Tyrant-Kidnapper acted as if he could not smell it at all! Had he had a lick of decency, he would have slammed on the brakes and stopped dead right there in the middle of the expressway to clean it up. But no. He kept driving, pretending it was only a small problem. Such extraordinary cruelty!

We drove for 2 or three days to get to a gas station with this revolting odor before me. It was all I could do to lay back and sleep. When we reached the gas station, he let me out.

And therein lay opportunity. When he put me down, there was part of a sandwich laying there on the asphalt, hardly a beagle's length away. I knew it was good food, because there were ants and flies and other bugs all over it. I rushed to get the nourishment I needed, but he was on the alert, and pulled my bondage-leash tight before I could get it.

But this is the kind of circumstance in which focus on the goal makes a difference. When the Tyrant-Kidnapper became distracted shoving plastic rectangles in and out of the one-armed gas machine, the bondage-leash became loose in his hand. I, never having lost for one moment a crisp vision of my crucial next steps, launched myself the remaining beagle's length and got the whole half sandwich into my mouth in a single motion. The Tyrant-Kidnapper realized his error, but it was too late. He thrust his hand into my mouth to deny me what was rightfully mine -- put his hand in my mouth! Can you believe it? I considered biting the hand off, but I knew I'd need him to drive once I'd turned the tables on him, so I let it go. Meanwhile, his effort availed him naught, for I, knowing the risks, immediately swallowed the sandwich, not daring to risk chewing. I still don't know what it tasted like, but it felt very nutritious in my tummy. Persistence prevails.

Still, he proved a canny adversary. Thereafter he never again let me out of the car at a gas station where there might be food for the foraging; he only let me out in parks that had been picked clean by other kidnapped dogpeople.

We continued to drive; I feigned sleep while staying constantly alert to my surroundings, picking up clues to help you find me. The distances were vast; I know not how many weeks we spent, though I started to become suspicious that infernal forces were at work because the sun never set. Consequently, every time we stopped to get out, it was hotter and drier. Eventually it became so hot (110 degrees-dog life cannot be sustained at such temperatures!) that the Tyrant-Kidnapper could not even leave me in the car with all the windows rolled down, lest the police stop him and learn of the kidnapping.

As it grew hotter, the signs of Satanic influence increased as well. As you know, I use my Holy Water to prevent Satanic influences from entering into our yard. But these vast spaces have had no dogs with powerful Holy Water to protect them. Every time we got out, as the landscape became more barren and desolate, the increasingly sickly trees needed more and more Holy Water from me. I became frantic in my efforts to combat the forces of evil surrounding us, disbursing Holy Water like there was no tomorrow. The Tyrant-Kidnapper gave me plenty of water even if he continued to keep me starved, and I had to sleep more and more between stops to regenerate my Holy Water.

I finally realized where we were. We had left the Planet California, and were now driving ever deeper into the the Mouth of Hell. Of course! Clearly, the Tyrant-Kidnapper is in league with the forces of the HellMouth!

The journey ended as the baking sun finally faded. The Tyrant-Kidnapper has brought me to a tiny oasis in the HellMouth. There is a patch of grass, dry and faded but yet alive. The sign says Mundito Stiegler. Beyond this small place, desolation goes as far as the eye can see in all directions. I presume he means to keep me here until you have met his ransom demands. I continue to look for clues to help you find me. I will not give up hope.

He's waking up. I'll send you more as soon as I can.


Eddie feigning sleep, alertly watching for an opportunity to get control of the computer to send clues on how to find and free himself.

(back to Eddie and the Cruiser)