Chapter 4: Rise of the Pupstars – Fame, Fur, and the Bark of Destiny
Where secret agents wear collars, squirrel conspiracies are real, and the ultimate showdown is moonwalked
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The Knock
It began with a knock.
Not a normal knock—a coded rhythm: boop boop–bark… bark boop.
Dog language.
Travis opened the door to find a Yorkshire Terrier in a tuxedo, sunglasses perched on his nose, and a gold envelope clenched between his teeth.
He dropped it onto the welcome mat, nodded with James Bond-level gravitas, then backflipped off the balcony.
"Was that—?" Carlton asked.
"Yep," Travis said. "That was Bark Ruffalo. Hollywood's top secret dog agent."
Carlton slowly picked up the envelope. Inside, it read:
> You are cordially invited to join…
THE PUPSTARS: Elite Team of Fame, Fur, and Justice.
Bring your own chew toys.
Buttermilk sniffed it once, then struck a dramatic pose like she'd known this moment was her destiny since the day she first barked.
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Enter the Pupstars
A luxury van with tinted windows and a bumper sticker that read "My Other Ride is a Rocket-Powered Sled" arrived that night.
Inside: the team.
Captain Biscuit: A bulldog with a monocle and grappling hook
Princess Meow-Meow: A cat hacker fluent in purrs and passive aggression
Tuna Supreme: A ferret lock-picker with an espresso addiction
Slinky: A greyhound so fast he circled the room before you finished blinking
"Welcome to Pupstars," Biscuit growled. "We protect the fame ecosystem. When viral chaos strikes… we strike back."
Carlton turned to Travis. "We just joined the animal Avengers, didn't we?"
"Yep. And I've never felt more alive."
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The Squirrel War
Their mission: Take down The Nutwork, a rogue gang of squirrel influencers hijacking dog accounts and flooding them with pro-acorn propaganda.
Victims included Luna the Snorting Beagle, whose DogTok had been turned into a nut-based recipe channel.
"Unforgivable," Biscuit snarled. "Luna doesn't even like almonds."
They tracked The Nutwork to a fake yoga studio in Beverly Hills—actually a high-tech squirrel dojo with kombucha dispensers and laser-nut traps.
Travis, Carlton, and Buttermilk suited up.
Tactical collars
Treat pouches
Carlton's jacket lined with emergency beef jerky
Operation Barkstorm was a go.
Slinky disabled squirrel security. Tuna picked the lock using a chewed pencil and a bobby pin. Buttermilk distracted guards by dramatically flopping on a yoga mat like an exhausted diva.
Inside, they found the mainframe: a giant oak tree wired into Wi-Fi.
Princess Meow-Meow rebooted the system with a hiss and a swipe of her tablet.
Suddenly—squeaky alarms.
Squirrel ninjas dropped from the ceiling yelling, "DELETE THEIR INFLUENCE!"
Carlton panicked and threw beef jerky like confetti.
Buttermilk launched into action: spin, boop, bark—a flawless combo that stunned their leader, Twitchy Steve.
"Fall back!" Steve screeched. "They brought the Bark Queen!"
Retreat. Trail mix tossed in desperation.
Victory.
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Recognition and Revenge
Back at HQ, Captain Biscuit presented Buttermilk with a Pupstar Medal—sparkly enough to blind a Fabriano lens.
"You saved DogTok," Biscuit said. "You're a legend."
Buttermilk blinked modestly.
"She'll accept bacon," Travis translated.
Back at their apartment, the comments flooded in:
"Queen saved the internet AGAIN."
"Was that a ferret? I need a spin-off."
"I barked so hard I dropped my phone."
"We're not just influencers anymore," Carlton said.
"We're icons," Travis replied.
Buttermilk barked once, then did a celebratory zoomie that knocked over three pillows and a scented candle.
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Fabio Returns: The Dogstacle Duel
Three days later, a viral video hit the airwaves.
Fabio had returned.
Fluffier. Shinier. Wrinklier than ever.
He appeared on live TV in a golden tracksuit, sunglasses shaped like bones, and a personal chihuahua fanning him.
To a barking crowd, Fabio declared:
> "Let's see how she runs, darling.
I challenge Buttermilk to the Ultimate Dogstacle Duel.
One course. One crown.
Winner becomes Alpha Influencer."
Cut to: Fabio doing downward dog on a gold yoga mat as doves flew behind him.
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Travis dropped his artisanal bone broth.
Carlton froze mid-braid on a glitter leash.
"It's a trap," Carlton whispered. "This smells fishier than Tuna Supreme's locker."
Buttermilk, eyes locked on the screen, lifted a paw, booped Carlton's nose, and posed. The wind from a fan ruffled her ears.
"She's in," Carlton said.
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The Duel of Destiny
The Dogstacle Arena was pure spectacle.
Stadium crowds barked. Toddlers howled. Grandparents wondered if this was the Westminster rerun.
The course:
The Treat Tunnel: Lined with bacon, squirrels, and violinists dressed as mailmen.
Ball Pit of Doom: 20,000 tennis balls—and one random hedgehog.
Ramp of Glory: A steep incline greased with peanut butter and crushed dreams.
Announcers barked:
> "Today's duel: Buttermilk, the fluff of freedom, versus Fabio, the pout with clout!"
Fabio arrived on a sedan chair carried by four golden retrievers in tuxedos.
Buttermilk arrived… on a hoverboard, powered by drones and leftover Christmas lights.
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Round One: Treat Tunnel
Fabio detoured after sniffing a turkey leg in the crowd.
Buttermilk zig-zagged through the tunnel, pausing only to politely bark at a squirrel handing out dates.
Round Two: Ball Pit of Doom
Fabio cannonballed in, causing a splash that knocked out a cameraman.
Buttermilk floated gracefully across, dodging balls and a toddler with cotton candy.
Round Three: Ramp of Glory
The final climb.
Fabio surged ahead. But Chadwick—his assistant—tripped and unplugged Fabio's cooling fan.
His wrinkles folded like origami.
Fabio panicked. Skidded. Screamed.
Then slid down into a vat of whipped cream labeled "Emergency Snack Foam."
Buttermilk? She moonwalked. All the way up. With purpose. With grace. With destiny.
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Victory
Final score: Buttermilk – 24 Sniffs. Fabio – 1 Dramatic Splat.
The crowd roared.
The Pawparazzi corgi cult booed… then sat down in synchronized shame.
Travis hugged Carlton. Carlton ugly-cried into a bedazzled tissue.
Fabio, towel-wrapped and sulking, whispered, "She's good. Too good."
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That night, Buttermilk celebrated with liver popsicles and a 9-hour nap.
Her followers surged.
#BarkOfDestiny trended worldwide.
A fan made a dubstep remix of her moonwalk. It went platinum on Dogify.
Carlton printed matching "Team Buttermilk" pajamas.
Travis framed a screenshot of Fabio mid-splat and hung it above the TV.
"We're not just famous anymore," Carlton said.
"We're inevitable," Travis replied.
Buttermilk barked once.
History agreed.
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