“Hey, it’s Gutsy Gracie here! Saved Spencerville from a ‘broccoli-ghoul’ (who was just a lonely retriever). Who knew our ghostbusting weapons would be squeaky toys? P.S. Remember, even in doggie paradise, loneliness can strike. Sharing meals with new friends-helps, though! 🐾”

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The evening was like any other in the lustrous town of Spencerville, cloak veiled in the same peaceful quiet I’d come to know and expect. I arrived at the Waggle n’ Wok, my tastebuds already dancing in anticipation for my favorite dish: roasted, juicy chicken.

Then the peculiarity happened. Rushing out of Paws on the Grill, Bailey and Max bolted past, fear emanating from them in waves. I began to sniff the air, that distinct, eerie smell of the “unseen” curling around me. It was then that I felt IT – the hair on my back prickling. At first, I thought it was just a figment of my wildly imaginative mind. But then I remembered that smell, and the trembling voices of Bailey and Max.

Back at Shepherd Skyline, we huddled together, terror gripping our hearts. “We need to investigate,” I said, puffing out my sleek black chest. Despite the waning determination on their facing, they agreed. My squeaky duck toy in mouth for courage, I led the way; facing whatever was making Spencerville…. un-Spencerville like.

With each step we took towards Siberian Summit, we could feel an unearthly chill. It was then, we saw it, looming in the horizon beyond the high ridge – a spectral silhouette that seemed to growl with a sound that made our insides churn. “We got to do something,” Max finally blurts.

Our plan was simple, or as simple as it could be when three dogs are trying to figure out how to handle a supernatural creature. The next evening, armed with toys and courage, we made our way to Siberian Summit. And to our surprise, was that…broccoli? The dreaded stench stronger than ever, we knew we had to make a quick call.

Max, Bailey and I charged forward – a squeaky toy, a meowing mouse, and a jingling ball, our weapons – making the creature from broccoli shoot up in our combined assault. The shape roared, before shrinking, twitching, then blurring into a golden retriever?

Turns out the broccoli-loving retriever, deprived of true interaction in life, had turned into an unseen horror, just seeking someone to share a meal with. Who knew, even in this joyous afterlife of Spencerville, loneliness could still grip one’s soul! Horror turned relief, we invited the retriever to our meals from then.

And so, that foreboding night faded into the annals of Spencerville’s history, now a riveting tale shared among the pets, raising laughter and warmth. A captivating memory to add to our treasury of fantastic adventures in Spencerville – the nearly perfect town, touched once by a brief, broccoli-shaped travesty.

The End.

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