[Me Am Hulk]

Last time on "A Pup Called tRIuMPh!"

YULIA:
Ohhh! You smell like
a chocolate bon-bon,
Triumph!

TRIUMPH:
Da? You smell like
samtink de local
sludge peet puked
back up!

Long, awkward pause.

YULIA:
Derp?

And now... part TWO of "A Pup Called tRIuMPh!"

TRIUMPH:
Honey, yoo're holding
me against de wrong
set of cheeks!

YULIA:
Uh... say what?

TRIUMPH:
Wroong cheeks, babs!
Vhat language do you
teenk I'm speaking,
Swahili? Spangleesh wid
a Blaccent? I'm speekink
de Mather Honking Tongue
here!

YULIA:
Ba... Bu... B-uhhhh?

TRIUMPH:
"Ba, Ba, Ba?"
Vhat are you do-eenk,
Belching de God-damned
alphabet? I told you
to stop rubb-eenk my
fine coat against your
pasty Russkie jowls!
Doon't you know how to
greet a daggie?

YULIA:
How... what...

TRIUMPH:
Ah, for de love of
Raspyootin... look
brush-top, you and
me are go-eenk to
get to know each ather,
we've got to greet
each ather de way
a daggie's supposed to!

YULIA:
H-how am I supposed to
do that?

TRIUMPH:
We've got to sneef each
ather's ass-cheeks,
girlchik!

YULIA:
WHAT? No fuckin' way!

TRIUMPH:
Ahhhh, c'mon! I sneef
your back, you sneef
mine!

YULIA:
I'm not sniffing your
ass!

TRIUMPH:
Oh, I see! Yoo're
eemposing your values
on me! Dat's species-ism!
Vhat, you teenk your species
is sooperior to mine?
Yoo're a BEE-got! You know
dat?

YULIA:
I am NOT a species-ist!
It's just... I... Look,
I vote Green and I'm a
card-carrying member of
PeTA!

TRIUMPH:
Yeah vhatever, Yuli
Barrymore! Look, you
doon't vant to get on
de Missus' bad side,
right? I'm her gift to
you, and in de name of
inter-species relations,
YOU owe me an ass-sneefing
session!

YULIA:
But... I... you... we...
Ooooooh, All right! But
you have to sniff MY ass
first!

TRIUMPH:
Heh-heh, you sure you
don' vanna sneef my
tush first, just to ged
it out of de vay?

YULIA:
I'd rather you just...
just... OH, ALL RIGHT!
I'll... uuuuurgh...
I'll sniff you first!
Just don't fart or
anything!

TRIUMPH:
Hey, vhat do I look
like, a cheempanzee?
Besides you humans
haf more een common
wid DOSE turd-sleengers,
anyvay!

Yulia makes a face.

TRIUMPH:
C'mon, ged eet over
veeth!

YULIA:
Okay, here goes...
(moans)
Diosa, ayudame!

With her face pinched, Yulia raises Triumph above her face, and slowly, slowly
lowers Triumph toward her nostrils, arse first.

At that moment, Lena re-enters the living room. She sees Yulia holding Triumph's
ass to her face.

LENA:
Yuli?

Yulia turns round, sees Lena and YELPS, nearly dropping Triumph. Yulia gathers
the little puppy into her arms.

LENA:
Yulia, what were you doing?

YULIA:
I... I was saying "hello"
to the puppy...

LENA:
By kissing his ass?

YULIA:
NO! Ay diosa, no!
I was uh... smelling
it.

LENA:
Why on earth would you
sniff the puppy's arse?

YULIA:
'Cause that's how dogs
greet each other...

LENA:
Yulia, who told you that
dogs greet each other...
that way?

Yulia looks down at Triumph, nestled in her arms.

YULIA:
(Whimpers.)
He did.

LENA:
Say what?

YULIA:
He said I should...
he uh... told me to...

LENA:
WHO told you?

YULIA:
The dog, Lena!
The dog TALKS.

LENA:
The DOG spoke to you?

YULIA:
Yeah...

LENA:
Yulia Volkova, have you
been drinking?

YULIA:
No honey! I swear on my
baby blue eyes, we have
a talking dog!

LENA:
(Sighs.)
A talking dog? Oh ha ha
ha... okay, I get it, Yuli.
(To Triumph.)
Triumph, what's the name of the
store down the block?

TRIUMPH:
Rowfs!

LENA:
Triumph, which member of the
Yankees is called "The Bambino?"

TRIUMPH:
Rooth!

Lena smirks at Yulia, whose face flushes beet red.

LENA:
Talking dog, indeed!
Yulia, you are the silliest
thing! Now come on inside,
dinner's ready. You uh...
might want to wash your face,
though...

YULIA:
I didn't touch his ass!

LENA:
Kidding, silly-buns! Don't
let the food go cold, now!

Lena retreats to the kitchen. Yulia sets down Triumph.

YULIA:
This is fuckin' freaky.

TRIUMPH:
Vell, I look at eet
dees vay Bristles, eef
your ass smells as bad
as your BREATH, den I got
off light.

YULIA:
WHAT THE FUCK...

LENA:
(From the kitchen.)
Yulia! Are you hollering
at little Triumph?

YULIA:
Er... no dear, I just
stubbed my toe.

Yulia sighs.

TRIUMPH:
Hah! Vhy is SHE wearing
de apron in dees house
eef yoo're de one whose
WHEEPED?

Yulia glares at the dog, GROWLS a string of stifled expletives under her
breath, and finally STOMPS off to the kitchen.

NEXT EPISODE: MARCH THE FIRST (It's da first of da mooooooonth...)