Hey Mom, guess what? Turns out, Spencerville is just a computer simulation! Alli and I found this crazy code rabbit hole, and now we’re off to convince the Creators to add more hot dogs and belly rubs. Who knew adventure had a digital twist? 🕹️🐾

Love, Bubba

You know, there are days in Spencerville when everything feels almost too perfect, like that sixth hot dog when you should’ve stopped at five. Today was one of those days. I had just finished an exhilarating car ride through Collie Canyon, the wind messing up my fur in the best way possible, when my sibling Alli came bounding into the scene, her brown Boxer body practically vibrating with excitement.

“Ryder! Ryder! You’ll never believe what I found out!” Alli panted, her eyes wide with both fear and excitement.

“What’s up, Alli? Did someone finally open a hot dog stand with unlimited samples?” I joke, my white and red fur patches probably making me look more like a confused Holstein cow than an adventurous Pitbull.

Alli rolled her eyes, which, considering she’s a Boxer, was quite the spectacle. “No, it’s bigger than snacks. And you know that means something because I LOVE snacks.”

At that, my ears perked up. “Alright, what’s got your tail in a twist?”

“We’re living in a simulation,” Alli said breathlessly. “Our whole world—Spencerville—is a computer program.”

I let out a bark of laughter, slapping the ground with my paw. “A simulation? Alli, did Fishy Bites switch up their fish stock again? Because that sounds like something a cat would come up with.”

“Serious, Ryder,” Alli said, stomping her paw. “I saw it myself. I was sniffing around Black Bulldog Bay when I found this hole. You know, like a rabbit hole, but not. I went through, and… Everything changed. I could see the code!”

“Code?” Now she had my attention. “Like squeaky toys spelled out in squeezy squeaky-ness, or what?”

“Follow me. Just trust me,” Alli said, taking off before I could ask any more questions.

We sprinted to Black Bulldog Bay, the water sparkling as though auditioning for a commercial. But there, hidden amidst the docks, was a peculiar spot—an ordinary patch of ground emitting a less-than-ordinary glow. Without hesitation, I followed Alli into the hole.

The world around us rippled like the time Fishy Bites accidentally spilled their special fish sauce into the bay. When it settled, we were no longer in Spencerville as we knew it. Above us, lines of code floated like a million fireflies, each flickering with digital life.

“See!” Alli declared triumphantly. “I told you.”

I stared, my tail stiff and my nose twitching. Everything I had taken for granted—the hikes, the stuffed toys, Paws On The Grill’s heavenly hot dogs—was just a series of zeroes and ones.

“So, what do we do now?” I asked, trying to suppress the feeling of panic rising in my chest. After all, Pitbulls don’t panic.

Alli smiled, her confidence infectious. “We find the Creators and tell them to put more hot dogs in the simulation. And extra belly rubs wouldn’t hurt either.”

More hot dogs and belly rubs? Now that was a mission I could get behind. Nodding, I trotted beside Alli, ready to embark on this bizarre new adventure. Because in a world of codes, glitches, and jaw-dropping revelations, one thing would always remain the same: my loyalty to the adventure.

“So who knew,” I mused, almost lovingly, “that stuffed toys and hikes were just lines of code? Guess that’s why they’re so perfect.”

With a bark and a wag of our tails, Alli and I plunged deeper into the extraordinary labyrinth. Because in Spencerville, even when the world flips on its head, the bond of family—and a good hot dog—always remains intact.

The End.