Iplier House

Fluff

Wilford Warstache giggled as he threw open the front door and walked in, with the end of the leash in his hand. "Come on! Come on you fuzzy poop machine!" He called with a grin. The golden dog crept forward slowly, crouching low, her tail wagging nervously.

"Oh, Jim!" Cried out Reporter Jim, jumping up from the couch. "The cotton candy man has brought a waggly tailed woofer!" Hearing Jim's voice, the dog suddenly sprung to her feet, rushing over to circle around him, ensnaring him in her leash.

"Hey! I gave you cheese!" Wilford pouted out his lip.

Darkiplier chuckled softly as he wandered in, closing the door behind them. "You and I have distorted voices. The Jims sounds more like Mark. She recognizes them more easily."

"Dumb fur beast." Wilford grunted, crossing his arms. "We're clearly better than Mark."

"I will call you Furry Jim, and you will be the best Jim!" Reporter Jim cooed.

"She has a name." Dark sighed. "She is Chica."

"Now she's Furry Jim." Camera Jim pointed out. "We're adopting her into the Jimily."

"I like it better when you do not talk." Dark growled, glaring at Camera Jim, who side stepped away, turning his focus on filming Chica as she flopped on her back for Reporter Jim to rub her belly, her tail thumping loudly against the floor.

Reporter Jim and Camera Jim sat down on the floor, rubbing Chica's belly and sides as Camera Jim zoomed in on her face. Reporter Jim nodded. "Furry Jim has the sniffiest of snooters! She has the swooshiest wagger too!"

"I still don't get Jim language." Wilford muttered, before sitting down with them on the floor. "Why won't you love me, house beast?"

"Did you hear that Jim? Furry Jim doesn't like the cotton candy man! How does that make you feel, Wilford?" Reporter Jim asked, holding his fake microphone out to Wilford. Chica flipped her head, trying to chew at the foam on the microphone.

"Fascinating. Wilford Warfstache will not be outdone!" Wilford grunted, snatching the mic. "Wilford here, commandeering Jim News. I'm going to be interviewing this fuzzy poop factory! This happy little fur ball! Chica Iplier!"

"Her last name is Fischbach." Google pointed out.

"Shut your face!" Wilford called. "She's one of us!"

"Are you really interviewing the dog?" Dark asked as he settled himself on the couch beside Google.

"Yes I am! Oh, yes I am. Yes, yes, yes." Wilford cooed, in the voice typically reserved for talking to babies, his normal drawl still pushing through.

On his way to the kitchen, Ed hesitated and leaned into the living room. "Huh. You know, ah could sell that thang for a good price."

"You can't sell Furry Jim!" Reporter Jim cried out. "I'm in love with her!"

"No, Jim. I'm in love with her!" Camera Jim added.

Wilford looked between them, before glancing back at Ed. "I wouldn't trust your customers to take care of a dog..."

Ed shrugged. "Guess ah'll stick ta babies then. But dogs could be a good market." Chica hopped up, trying to run towards Ed and crouched low she got caught on her leash. Getting up, Dark leaned over the mass of dog, Jims and Wilford to unhook the leash from her collar and she sprung forward running around Ed before sitting down in front of him. "See? It wants ta be sold." He smirked, before she lifted up a paw. "What's it doin'?" Dark casually sat down on the couch again, glancing at Google.

"She is trying to hold your hand." Google explained.

"What?" Ed grunted.

"Give her your hand, you heartless bastard!" Reporter Jim screamed.

Ed rose an eyebrow, holding his hand out and Chica placed her paw on it, wagging her tail. "Oh my lord." Ed grunted. "This is precious. Y'all wanted to sell this little angel?"

"No. That was you." Wilford grunted.

"When even Wilford knows what you are trying to pull, it is pretty bad, Ed." Dark smirked.

Ed shrugged, holding Chica's paw as he patted her head with his free hand. "Alright, alright. Time is money. Ah gotta get back ta work!" He dropped Chica's paw and headed into the kitchen. Chica watched him, wagging her tail.

"Chica! Chica!" Wilford called, patting his lap. "Come see ol' Warfstache!" Chica ran at him, jumping on his crotch by accident in her excitement. Wilford groaned and the room tensed, Dark getting to his feet as they all expected a reaction from Wilford. With a groan, Wilford laid his arms on her. "Slap... slapstick comedy, eh? I'll forgive you, you do live with Mark after all. You just don't know any better." Sighing softly, Dark sat down again.

"I'm going to the store to get-" Bim stopped dead as he entered the room, staring at Chica. "The puppo!" Chica jumped up again, running to Bim. "Up, up!" He grinned, patting his chest. Chica jumped up, and he grabbed her front limbs, holding her in a standing position. "Why isn't dancing with dogs a TV show?"

"It probably is." Wilford shrugged.

Bim leaned down, kissing her nose. "Who's a good girl? Who is, Chica! Who is, Chica!" He purred.

"You said you were going to the store?" Dark asked.

Bim shook his head. "I didn't know you guys kidnapped Chica!"

Reporter Jim glanced at Wilford then looked over at Dark. "Did you kidnap this dog?" He leaned over, holding out the microphone.

Camera Jim perked up, putting the camera on Darkiplier. Dark sighed, glancing between them. "This is going to get old, boys." He pointed out, then nodded. "And of course we did. This is Mark's dog... sometimes we take her to drive him nuts. Usually Will and I just take her to the dog park, but it was quite busy today."

"All the better for us!" Bim grinned, letting go of Chica so she could drop back down on all fours.

"Did I hear Chica?!" King squealed as he ran into the room. Chica crouched low, jumping up and raced around the room.

Dark groaned softly. "She is getting over stimulated. I do not think she understands how so many people look and sound like Mark."

Reporter Jim leaned towards Dark. "Who DOES understand?"

Dark smiled slightly. "That is a fair point." He chuckled lowly, it echoing slightly.

Chica ran forward, straight into King, who fell down with a giggle. She jumped onto his chest, pinning him down and happily licked at the peanut butter on his face. "That- that- that's for the squirrels!" He giggled, then wrapped his arms around the dog happily. "Okay! Fine! You can have some!"

Bim shook his head, looking down at them. Wilford tilted his head, wiggling his mustache then sighed. "So if I put peanut butter on MY face... she'd like ME more."

"The dog likes you just fine Will." Dark mumbled.

"She likes them more!" Wilford groaned.

"Yes. I explained this. They sound more like-"

"Mark." Wilford grunted. "Mark, Mark, Mark. I don't wanna hear anymore about M-"

Suddenly the door swung open, and Mark stepped in, panting softly. "Where is my dog?!" He shouted. Chica looked up at him, tail whipping back and forth wildly before she returned to licking at the peanut butter. Mark sighed, relaxing slightly. "Chica beaka! Come here girl!" Jumping up again Chica ran over to him and he crouched down, wrapping his arms around her. "Did the fucking crazy bastards take you? My poor princess! We're gonna go home! You wanna go home?" He attached the leash to her collar, standing up and glared around the room. "Do what you want with the community, but stay the fuck away from my dog!" He growled, before turning and lead Chica out.

Wilford sighed, then glanced at Dark. "Next week then?"

Darkiplier nodded with a grin. "Next week."