The Real Killer - Vegas Andrews (ft others)
@mrs-jughead-jones this short fic goes out to the theory makers on Rose’s tumblr right now, I’m having the time of my life and decided to make a small fic, inspired by this debate.
Warnings: Doge / Violent Doge / Swearing Doge
Archie and Drughead were caught up in their own problems, I don’t know what they were because I am a dog, but I didn’t really care because it meant I got petted therapeutically. That seemed to be my job. When someone was contemplating or having an existential crisis, they would pet me. Drughead preferred to flap my ear around which is…. nice?
They were so fixated on their own issues that they didn’t even realise the killer was right in front of them. To a smelly hooman, it would look like I was simply sitting at Drughead’s side, staring into space and just generally being a dog. But IT’S ALL LIEEEESSS!!!
Inside my mind, I was conspiring and plotting my next move. I had gone off the rails and there was no going back….
It all started back when….
“Woof woof” I barked as I watched Drughead’s mother load her car, daughter’s hand in her own. She had finally had enough with FP and they were moving far away. I wasn’t particularly fussed, because i am a dog, until I noticed the metal cage at the back of the van.
I bounded towards it, barking aggressively. I heard a restrained response from behind the prison bars of the cage. It was my dog bae, my man crush monday, Hot Dog! They couldn’t take Hot Dog.
I felt my fur coat burn with teenage dog angst, and I ran over to Drughead, clawing at his suspenders, a plead for him to do something. He was too invested in saying goodbye to his sister.
PFFFT, INCOMPETENT HOOMANS WITH NO AWARENESS OF PRIORITIES.
I had to sit and watch as my dog bae was taken away from me. The only other intellectual in this town. I felt sad and angry and emotions that were indescribable. I mean how could I describe them? I’m a fucking dog.
I swore vengeance on my friend/bae/one-time hookup that day. I would get Hot Dog back, whatever it took.
After stalking the Jones household for a few months, i found out that Drughead had left the house to live in the drive-in. This is a dumb idea because the drive-in has no fridge that i am aware of, and that means it’s harder to access food. Food accessibility is another priority in my books. This just adds to the novel i’m writing about the fact that hoomans have no intuition.
Speaking of DRUGhead, turns out that the Dad was high like 98% of the time. This I guess, is why half of his family left. I’ve always wanted to 420 blaze it, but i never have, because i’m a dog.
I followed him on daily basis, trailer park to drive-in, trailer park to drive-in. He had a black jacket with a green worm on the back, along with the rest of his “friends”. I assumed these were his druggy buddies. Drughead was pretty clueless, considering he lived there.
I watched overtime, as the connections with the drugs grew. Reaching out to buyers like Hiram Lodge, a wealthy businessman. FP was getting a lot of money/benefits from these deals, but being a dumbass human, wasted his rewards on alcohol. You see, I may never have been high, but boy have I been drunk.
Perhaps, I could use my intelligence to manipulate stoopid hoomans. I could work my way to the top and maybe offer the Jones’s a huge cash sum to get my friend back! It was a genius plan!
I trained my nose to sniff out Green Worm drug stashes. I became known as “The Hound”, a mysterious thief who kept stealing the stock of the Green Worms. This was quite funny, because I am actually a dog. Hahahhhahahahhah.
The drugs I managed to anonymously deal were stamped with the Green Worm mark, so I couldn’t be blamed for my crimes. At the end of the day, if anything went wrong, FP would be blamed for my misdeeds, not me.
It all went downhill when I got involved with a certain ginger.
He was looking for some serious last-minute money, so he could escape the town with his preggo my leggo girlfriend. The Blossom’s were the most influential family and town, and they were very very rich, which meant I could exploit Jason for a long amount of time before finally letting him go.
I offered him a job to do for me, entrusting him with the drugs through anonymous mail. Don’t ask me about the mailing process, it’s too complex for hoomans to understand. I put my faith in him. I was desperate at this point, Hot Dog was so close yet so far and I had to push myself and my doggy drug business to the extreme.
He was supposed to take the drugs, sell them to the students at Riverdale High, and give me back his earnings. I had sent him letters, written with my own paws, about how when his job was truly done he would be paid what he deserved. I meant it, but he just couldn’t trust in me for that long. He was getting desperate too. WELL IT’S A DOG EAT HOOMAN WORLD SONNY JIM.
He thought I wouldn’t notice when he started to take half of the days profits for himself. I was enraged. I also had fleas at this time which is practically the equivalent of a doggy period so I was incredibly pissed off.
Jason knew I was on to him, when i sent him hate mail and insulted his Sailor Moon ships. He was going to pack a getaway car and be out of there by morning. Oh helllllllll no, not today.
Jason had messed with the wrong canine. I thought about Fred and Archie, the affection they showed me. Then my mind went deeper, to the thoughts of the Blossom’s and how they tried to control Fred’s life and work. I got angrier by the second and I knew that was when I had to take action.
I waited, on the 4th of July, by the riverbank for Jason to arrive. He arrived with his sister looking like twins that deserved a place in The Shining. They rowed over to where I was, and Cheryl left him to die. Fake die. OR SO SHE THOUGHT! Jason was filled with paranoia though, his guard was up and I couldn’t strike without getting hurt in the process. So, I used my doggy hulk strength, and pushed a tree down on him. He somehow got out alive, so I patiently awaited a week for him to wake up. This seemed to work though, because I could get his preggo my leggo girlfriend to pay ransom, or the same from the Blossom’s. Nobody showed up though. I slowly started getting bored, and when dogs get bored they get mad.
Playing fetch by myself was becoming tiresome.
Jason for some stupid reason wasn’t awake, but when he did wake up, he might get away. I couldn’t risk that, he would tell everyone about my scheming and I would be stuck in the pound for the rest of my life with big man Dave. Not Dave. Anyone but Dave.
So I do what most dogs do when their mad.
Charge into the intended victim with a P99 before popping a cap in their head. Followed by nudging into the rivers currents so he would float away like he was in the river of lost souls from my favourite disney movie, Hercules.
I used my handy paws to big a deep hole to China, where I hid the murder weapon. To avoid suspicion, I would have to put my drug hauling on hold and return to my normal life at the Andrew’s house.
I’m still yet to get my bae back, BUT I WILL.
VEGAS MARTINEZ RONALDO CHRISTIAN JESSICA DYLAN O’BRIEN ANDREWS
woof woof motherfuckers.