Gonzo Woof (which he sometimes asked us to call him, according to Mr Box) had a serious problem with the pollutants in your average bag of Cheetos. And I don’t mean they made Woof sick the way they made everyone sick because they were made of mercury, saline and fish heads; I mean Woof could not get enough of this shit. I swear we could get him paid in Cheetos and he wouldn’t mind twice. They made him scamper; I don’t know a basilisk’s physiology but it was like hot damn, 15 bags of those things and we was up a wall. We had concern for what it was doing to him the way you feel about a dog eating garbage; you try to stop him but then he snaps and it’s not like he’s gettin sick, anyway.
When he wasn’t eating Cheetos he was eating pigeons, which was harmless and I guess we could have hired him out as an exterminator if we’d wanted, but we didn’t stay in one place long enough to get a toll-free number. Woof was like a really fast sloth; he was probably much happier upside down, looking down at you with his mouth dripping feathers and cheetos dust. Woof and Mr Box was like living a game of chicken; they was with us until they tried to kill us or eat us, like; you might argue we felt bad for them as animutants had no place left to go after the gene-wars ended.
We’d woken up in the car out back of a seven-eleven about a hundred miles above the earth one afternoon and Woof was sprawled out in the back of our hydraulic sleeping, his hand full of lipsticks and Guru Fuck covered in Lime Crime (Guru Fuck does not wear lipstick except on mescaline) and Mr Box sort of sitting crouched on our back hood; the little guy was holding a wooden staff and an amulet glowing green and he looked at us and blinked one eye than the other, like this; and when a goat rabbit blinks his eyes slow like that and has no pupils you just kind of push the basilisk to one side and get driving and hope no one gets eaten.
We tried asking once where they come from and Box looks us over and says “Dont you know dont you know dont you dont you” and ran in circles very quickly. When Woof’s asleep he quotes us chapter and verse about the night we met them but it sounds like we weren’t ourselves, and all we know is we stay away from whatever the hell they put in Lime Crime.