The rest of the mansion was huge.
Cool Dog wandered around, checking the place out. He could hear music being pumped through hidden speakers. It was that classical stuff, totally boring and not cool at all. Not only was it some lame piano music, it was being played so softly no one had to yell or even talk loudly. Like, the perfect volume for hushed conversations.
Boring!
He positioned himself at the entrance of a ballroom. Two grand staircases flanked the room. Everything was marble flooring, polished banisters, elegant tapestries. It was really cramping his style.
Time to liven up the party with his entrance!
"Hey there, dudes and dudettes! Cool Dog's in the house! Ready to shred some gnarly times at this rad masquerade!" Cool Dog flashed a grin, and his oversized glasses slipped down his nose a bit. He pushed them back up with a laugh and continued, "So, what's the deal with masks at a masquerade, huh? Are we all playing hide and seek?"
Everyone gave him a side-eye, but resumed talking amongst themselves. Some people even rolled their eyes, the movement distinct even with a mask covering their faces. It almost made Cool Dog feel self-conscious. Almost.
“Psshaw, alright. Be like that.” Cool Dog rolled his eyes and set his skateboard down on the marble floor.
He started slowly skateboarding around the room, checking out the party.
This place was packed, yo! There were masked figures everywhere Cool Dog looked. Some people went all out with head to toe Halloween costumes, but most of the partiers just had small masks obscuring part of their face. Some were as ornate as Chesh or Mister E, but a lot of people clearly just had a store-bought Halloween mask.
He noticed someone with a particularly intricate domino mask nearby and quipped, "Whoa, check out that mask! It's like Picasso and a kaleidoscope had a baby."
Groans filled the room.
“Nice face paint, pal.” The guy replied.
“What?” He pointed at the painted tongue on his cheek, "Don't be jealous of the tongue action over here. It's my secret weapon for breaking the ice!"
“Loser.” The guy retorted.
Cool Dog dropped his shades down and skated off. He didn’t have to deal with that smoke. Guy was acting as high and mighty ash Chesh had been. Being ‘in-character’ didn’t mean having to act like a huge dick to the coolest dog in the universe!
Speaking of Chesh, where had Clark gotten off to…? Cool Dog scanned the room for his purple-suited friend. He had to be around here somewhere.
The living room had a few chatting groups of masked partygoers, but none of them were Chesh. Judging from the view of some of the rear windows, a good amount of party had spilled out onto the back lawn. Maybe he was out there?
That stairway had a nice rail, he could do a sick Ollie off it. Wait, hold up.
Cool Dog raised his sunglasses and peered in the far corner of the living room.
There was someone by the window with a devil mask talking to a guy who had apparently gone for a bull ring. Which… wasn’t much of a costume, to be honest. And to think, Mister E had been raggin’ on poor ol’ Cool Dog for not having a proper mask! All this guy was wearing was a piercing! For shame, Mister E, for shame!
But that wasn’t what had caught his attention.
On the far side of the room, Chesh was talking up someone wearing a lion mane. Beside him, someone was wearing a crisp black suit, a snow leopard mask, and… an ear piece? Security, if Cool Dog had to guess. Yawnzers.
What was his friend doing, hanging out with a bunch of lame dudes?
“So what are you supposed to be?” A gruff, masculine voice spoke from Cool Dog’s side.
Cool Dog did not jump and his glasses did not fall on his face, completely askew.
He turned, expecting to see a person. Instead he saw a broad chest. Cool Dog looked up.
The guy in front of him had to be at least six three. He was wearing the top half of a full wolf muzzle pushing out of his face. It had bits of suede and fur built into it, and the nose looked like it was made out of genuine leather. The half-mask left his winning smile completely uncovered.
“Wassup, I’m Cool Dog, yo!” Cool Dog struck his pose.
Wolf Mask laughed. “Yeah, I see that. What’s a Cool Dog?”
“Um… me?” Cool Dog cocked his head, confused.
“Very informative. So, like, skateboard dog stuck perpetually ‘90’s ?”
“Yo.”
“Got it. Anything else you can do?”
“I can rap. Lay down the sickest beats, yo!”
“Oh yeah? You can rap?” Wolf Mask Guy asked, smirking.
“Hell yeah I can rap!” Cool Dog replied enthusiastically. “I’m from the streets, yo!”
“Which streets?” Someone behind Cool Dog called.
“The Backstreets, boy!” Cool Dog shot back.
“More like for the streets… yo” Someone behind Cool Dog snickered.
“Yo Mama!” Cool Dog replied.
“The fuck did he just say about-”
“Uh, Cool Dog…” Wolf Mask Guy pulled Cool Dog away from a man being led away by security. “Why don’t you rap for me?”
“...Like, right now?”
“Yes. Yo.” Wolf Mask smiled again.
Cool Dog grinned and flipped his glasses back down onto his nose. “Okay, listen up:
“Yo, I'm Cool Dog, straight from the scene,
Rockin' my shades, I'm the flyest canine machine.
I bark to the rhythm, I howl to the beat,
I'm the coolest pup you'll ever meet!
I'm rappin' 'bout fetch and chasin' tails all day,
Chompin' on bones, that's just the Cool Dog way
I got a bone-shaped boombox, playin' my jam,
Spittin' rhymes so cheesy, it's like doggy camembert, fam.
So, if you see me on the block, don't be shy,
Come chill with Cool Dog, and reach for the sky.
We'll break it down, groove to the beat,
Cause Cool Dog's bringin' the heat!”
“Your rhymes suck!” Someone shouted.
“You don’t even have a boombox!” Someone else asserted.
Technically true.
“I am my boombox, watch. I start beat boxing, like this.” Cool Dog brought his hands up to his mouth. "*Buh-ka-chh, tss, pah-pah, boom-boom-tss, krrsshh!*"
“Boo!”
“And then,” Cool Dog, moved his hands like he was playing with records. “*Wiki-wiki whiir, wiki whir whir!*”
“God, shut up!” An angry masked person screamed.
Cool Dog ducked a plate of bagel chips with cheese on them. It whizzed past his head and hit the wall. Immediately, the Snow Leopard mask guy moved, and a patron was quietly and firmly escorted away.
He set his skateboard down, ready to flee the scene, when a hand stopped him.
“Sir, I’m afraid there’s no actual skateboarding allowed. Clearly it’s not just a prop.” A voice spoke at Cool Dog’s side.
He turned and saw another masked guy, this one wearing a doberman mask, standing directly behind him.
Cool Dog flinched as his skateboard was wrenched from his hands.
“Hey, what gives!” Cool Dog growled.
“No skateboarding indoors.” The Doberman Mask guy said firmly.
“You are *not* a Cool Dog!” Cool Dog said.
“Clearly.” The Not-At-All-Cool Doberman Mask guy’s mouth twitched as he carted off Cool Dog’s wheels.
Cool Dog huffed, brushing off his threads and looked around for Wolf Mask guy. It took him a moment to realize he’d been ghosted. Psshaw, he’d even rapped for him! How ungrateful were these lame-o’s?
“Alright Wolf Mask Guy! Fine! Cool Dog is clearly too cool for you!” Cool Dog said, feeling a little angry. "If anyone's looking for me, I'll be over by the snack table, trying to figure out how to make Jell-O shots cool again."
Cool Dog was forced to walk-Walk!-all the way to the table. To his horror, there were no jell-o shots. Just a bunch of frou-frou snacks. Who the hell ate this stuff?
“Where’s the Cool Ranch Doritos?” Cool Dog exclaimed. “Or the Cheetos?”
There wasn’t even a punch bowl!
“Drink, sir?” A waiter wearing a buck mask asked, holding out a tray of fluted glasses.
"I'll take a Capri Sun, extra pouchy, please." Cool Dog replied.
“... I have champagne.” The masked waiter gestured to the plate full of champagne glasses awkwardly. “You just… take a glass. Drink it. Set it back.”
“Cool Dog only drinks in moderation.” Cool Dog replied.
“What?”
“He drinks responsibly.”
“... So that’s a no to the champagne?”
Cool Dog was no longer listening, he was wandering around, trying to find his friend Chesh again. Somehow, they guy had left without even saying hi to his best friend. Maybe he was outside?
He wandered out into the garden. His nose twitched as a skunky smell entered his nostrils. They flared a little too realistically, not that he noticed.
Cool Dog followed the smell to find a young jock outside wearing a brown bear half-mask, smoking a joint.
His body was the peak of perfection. Muscular and well toned, his brawny chest straining to escape from the confines of his white shirt. A mop of dishwater blonde hair was tucked haphazardly beneath a backwards-facing baseball cap. The varsity jock he wore strained at its seams. His mouth was sporting a joint and a smirk, his expression landing somewhere between playful and mischievous.
The bear masked guy glanced up at Cool Dog and squinted blearily at him. “What’s up?”
“Drugs are bad for you.”
“Yeah?” The jock rolled his eyes. “Tell me another.”
“Another what?” Cool Dog cocked his head in a distinctly canine expression of confusion.
“Another joke, bro.”
Cool Dog stared at the jock. Sure, he was being bad, smoking pot. But that backwards cap… he clearly had a sense of coolness to him.
“You want to hear a joke?” Cool Dog asked.
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” Cool Dog cleared his throat. It was feeling scratchy. “My sister had a pet rock once. She took it everywhere. She even brought it to the prom! I asked her, 'Why’d your rock even go to the prom, anyways?' She replied, 'Because it wanted to be a little boulder!'"
Bear Mask snorted. “boulder… haha…”
Cool Dog grinned, his eyes lighting up. He’d made the bear mask guy laugh!
“Wanna hear another one?”
“Sure, man.”
Cool Dog leaned forward. “My sister married her pet rock. She said she’d never meet a ‘gneiss’-er guy!”
“.. That’s a rock thingy, right?”
Cool Dog nodded. “Yeah. He hates my jokes. My sister’s husband.”
“Why?”
“I dunno, but he’s always stone-faced.”
“Hahahaha…haaaa… “ The bear masked guy went silent.
Cool Dog waited.
Bear Mask started snoring.
“Huh.” Cool Dog shrugged. “Oh well.”
Cool Dog walked back inside and finally spotted Chesh at the end of the table he’d literally just came from five minutes ago.
“Chesh!” Cool Dog. Said, hiking up his pants and sauntering over, “Wassup?”
“Hey, what’s going on? You’re acting weird.” Chesh said softly, looking around as though he were doing something wrong. “Is it the mansion or the contest thing?”
"Yo, this mansion is bigger than my collection of Beanie Babies, and that's saying something!" Cool Dog grinned.
“Uh. Yeah. Sure.” Chesh stared at Cool Dog warily. “Seriously, man, I’m taking a big risk breaking character, but are you okay?”
"Are you a Game Boy?” Cool Dog said. “Because you've got my attention, and I can't wait to play."
“... Simon?”
Simon. That name… it meant something. But what-
Cool Dog shuddered and gripped his head. “Ngh!”
Chesh wrapped an arm around Cool Dog’s waist and guided him into an adjacent room, shutting the door. “Do you need a Tylenol?”
“I-” Cool Dog-no, Simon! Shook his head. “I’m Simon!”
“... Yes. You’re scaring me, man.”
Simon’s head throbbed angrily. “What the hell was wrong with me?”
“I don’t know?”
“That Mister E guy, he snapped his fingers and… and… “ Simon paused. “Did I do something?”
“You were Cool Dog. A very obnoxious character.” Clark patted Simon’s back. “Do you need to get medical attention or something?”
“What?” Simon glanced up. “No! You need money and you can totally win, Clark.”
Clark stared at him, waiting until Simon was breathing steadily before standing up and pulling away. “Fine. The last guest is about to arrive.”
“Cool. I’m going to the bathroom to clear my head.” Simon said, standing up and gripping a nearby dresser when the world spun. “Maybe puke.”
He fumbled his way out the door.
“Just remember to keep your costume-” Clark started to say.
Simon closed the door, staggering to the nearest bathroom.