It’s late at night. You were playing Duck season, a game your relative/friend/whatever got you, and shot the dog. Oh no!

Suddenly, a crashing noise is heard. You turn away from the TV and to your right, only to see The Dog running towards you, holding a knife. He looks terrifying, how the hell is he in the real world? He glares down at you with red pupils, his knife raised up as he continues to sprint at you at full speed, he definitely isn’t too happy about being shot in that game.