[Andy actually gasps when the dog puts its paw in his hand. There's a breathless second before he can manage an appreciative,]
Dude!
[Good trick! Champion is the World Champion of dogs, but this guy is probably a runner up. A Space Champion? By default, surely. Because Champion isn't here to claim the title.
By that point, Russian's entry into the Space Championship of Dogs is crowding in close, and Andy laughs, brought out of his reverie and awe at such a kickass show of dog affection.]
Aww, hey-- [He goes in for a hug first, then transfers that action to a brisk scratching at the dog's fluffy sides, buries his fingers in deep and moves the fur around by the handful.] You're a good dog, arencha! Real good! Hey--
[That's 'cause the dog is chewing on the guitar, over his shoulder, and Andy ducks his head so he can kind of peer back there, check out what's going on.]
Holy crap, do you play? Dang, I bet you do. If those stupid cats playing piano on the internet can get on the internet, you gotta be able to play some Guitar Hero, right, bud? Probably something they taught you in Space Camp-- wait, here--
[Now he's going to try to twist around to to get the tiny guitar strap over his head so he can give it to the dog. Not an incredibly well thought-out decision, considering 1) how close the dog is and 2) how its tail is all over the place, and, 3) how small the guitar strap actually is. Maybe he's a little stuck.
He stops twisting. One arm is half jammed through the guitar strap, stuck awkwardly up in the air and pinned close to his body. At least he has this good dog to lean on.]
no subject
Dude!
[Good trick! Champion is the World Champion of dogs, but this guy is probably a runner up. A Space Champion? By default, surely. Because Champion isn't here to claim the title.
By that point, Russian's entry into the Space Championship of Dogs is crowding in close, and Andy laughs, brought out of his reverie and awe at such a kickass show of dog affection.]
Aww, hey-- [He goes in for a hug first, then transfers that action to a brisk scratching at the dog's fluffy sides, buries his fingers in deep and moves the fur around by the handful.] You're a good dog, arencha! Real good! Hey--
[That's 'cause the dog is chewing on the guitar, over his shoulder, and Andy ducks his head so he can kind of peer back there, check out what's going on.]
Holy crap, do you play? Dang, I bet you do. If those stupid cats playing piano on the internet can get on the internet, you gotta be able to play some Guitar Hero, right, bud? Probably something they taught you in Space Camp-- wait, here--
[Now he's going to try to twist around to to get the tiny guitar strap over his head so he can give it to the dog. Not an incredibly well thought-out decision, considering 1) how close the dog is and 2) how its tail is all over the place, and, 3) how small the guitar strap actually is. Maybe he's a little stuck.
He stops twisting. One arm is half jammed through the guitar strap, stuck awkwardly up in the air and pinned close to his body. At least he has this good dog to lean on.]
Wait.