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hakugreenfinch · 1 year

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Iggy the Stray Dog - ch1

Author: Otsuichi

Original concept: Araki Hirohiko

Originally published: JOJO Magazine 2022 Spring

*** This is a fan translation made purely for entertainment. Please do not repost/reuse/etc without my permission and credit! ***

The plane landed at John F. Kennedy International Airport. In the air, a haze like light yellow smoke drifted, one could not see anything too far away.

I showed my passport to pass immigration inspection at the airport. I collected my check-in baggage and caught a yellow taxi. My destination was the Speedwagon Foundation headquarters, located in Midtown Manhattan. I estimated it would take about thirty minutes from the airport by car.

On the way there, the driver kept wiping the sand gathering on the car’s windshield. Wait, sand? Taking a closer look, even the back seat window was covered in what looked like light yellow sand. I speculated the hazy sight I saw from the airplane must have been the fault of the sand dancing in the air.

„Does sand usually pass over New York this time of the year?” I asked the driver. It wouldn’t be odd for tiny specs of sand to get caught up in the desert wind and travel tens of thousands of kilometers to faraway countries. The driver threw a glimpse at me from the rearview mirror.

„It’s been like this for half a year now, it happens every now and then. I wonder where on earth it came from... Sir, can I ask where you’re from?”

„From Egypt.”

„Thought so! I was sure based on your clothes. This song called „Walk like an Egyptian” is very popular recently in this country, do you know it?”

„No, I haven’t heard it.”

„Well, it’s everywhere. I’m sure some radio station is playing it this very moment!” The driver turned on the radio as he spoke, and music started playing. It wasn’t the song we just discussed but it was a lively music filled with energy, very much like this country. „Welcome to the United States, Sir! Are you here to sightsee?”

„No. I must do some work at the request of my American friend.”

„Wow, good luck with that!”

The taxi drove up on the highway and before soon I could see a bridge before us. Crossing East River, the Robert F. Kennedy Bridge was lying across from the Wards Islands and finally reaching Manhattan Island. I bet my driver wouldn’t even have imagined that I of all people would visit this country to capture a stray dog.

***

According to the Speedwagon Foundation’s reports, it was first observed at a New York corner store. One morning as the owner pulled up the shutters of his store, he found that some of the shelves were vandalized. As he evaluated the damage, it seemed like someone had been inside.

In the dark, he heard a noise resembling chewing.

The owner grabbed a mop that happened to be at hand and stepped closer, ready to attack with the handle. Then, he realized what was hiding in the shadows – a small dog of roughly 30 cm height. It was a Boston Terrier. The middle of its head, its nose and mouth were white as well as around its neck, while its eyes, ears and torso were black. Drool was dripping from the skin hanging over on both sides of its muzzle.

The Boston Terrier stopped chewing and stared straight up at the store owner. It was eating coffee flavoured chewing gum.

The store owner swung the mop at it in an attempt to chase it outside, but the dog clung to his head with an astonishing jump, rampaging as if it was trying to tear his hair out, and finally farted before his face and ran away. The store owner testified that it smelled like rotten eggs. Apparently it is quite common among dog breeds like Boston Terriers to breathe through the mouth and fart a lot but thanks to it doing so in front of the man’s face, its private parts flashed before his eyes and he could tell the dog was a male.

Only one thing remained a mystery about this incident – until the store owner opened the shutters in the morning, it should have been impossible for anyone to enter the store. There was no other entrance and the windows had been closed shut. How did the Boston Terrier get inside then?

Upon closer inspection, the Speedwagon Foundation found that a ceiling tile had come off, that’s where he could supposedly enter. But was that even possible for such a small dog? A dog normally couldn’t even have gotten above the ceiling.

Since then, multiple incidents have taken place in various areas of Manhattan of a stray dog stealing chewing gum. One time it was a newspaper stand in the office district, another time it was a store in the harbour from where the Statue of Liberty could be seen where the candy shelves were raided and robbed completely of coffee flavoured chewing gum. If tourists decided to chew some, a stray dog would jump in from outside of their field of vision and run away with the strip of gum. The culprit was always a Boston Terrier. Even if people ran after him, they never managed to capture him.

Countless of complaints had been sent to New York City Hall and as a result, pest control was set to work. There was a number of small private pest exterminators in Manhattan, taking care of rats and bats at the request of citizens, stray cats and dogs also weren’t unusual for them to take care of. The animals they captured were sent off to shelters and put down.

The city commissioned several of these contractors. The „stray dog hunters” collected information on the Boston Terrier’s sightings and jumped in their cars carrying huge nets, just like in Ghostbusters. However, not even they succeeded.

When they chased him down and attempted to corner him, grains of sand started flying around out of nowhere. The sand clang to the men’s faces and got in their eyes, robbing them of their vision while the Boston Terrier ran somewhere far away. The inexplicable sand phenomenon had been reported in other cases as well.

In the nothern parts of Manhattan, on street corners that tourists should never get anywhere near, a fight broke out between rival mafia gangs. At first, it was just an exchange of insults but it soon escalated into guns being pointed at each other. At the sound of the first gunshot, a nearby restaurant’s windows shattered, but no further shots echoed after that.

As the gangsters tried to pull the triggers of their guns, for some reason they just didn’t move. Upon taking a closer look, they saw that they were completely clogged with sand. Thanks to the sand that got inside the machines, they simply couldn’t move properly or shoot bullets.

Could it have been the work of some natural phenomenon? No, that wasn’t it. A Boston Terrier was spotted not far away, sunbathing as he took his noon nap. The sand clogging the guns was his work. He thought that the noise of gunshots was disturbing his nap and thus, who knows how, he made sure that the gangsters’ guns malfunctioned.

He had some sort of power that allowed him to manipulate sand.

The Speedwagon Foundation and I held the same opinion.

I read through the reports concerning the Boston Terrier in a room of the Foundation’s headquarters. On the outside, it seemed to be an old-style stone building, however on the inside it was a modern office building. It appeared that my face and name was already familiar here since no security guard stopped me at the entrance.

Outside my window, the many buildings of Midtown filled my sight, their silhouettes lined up across the scenery obscured by sand as if they were ruins in the desert.

„Does this dog have any friends? Dogs usually gather into packs.”

A staff member of the Speedwagon Foundation answered my question.

„It appears he only moves around by himself. However, several reports state that stray bitches had served him. It looks like other dogs have also noted his oddness. For instance, in front of a certain downtown shop there are big dogs that bark all day but whenever this Boston Terrier passes by, they pull in their ears and tails and hide away. He’s not even one third of their sizes and yet those huge dogs are terrified of him! Some even call him the king of stray dogs.”

I picked up another report. This one was summarizing the tales the „stray dog hunters” had told.

One day, a vermin exterminator had received a request from the city to capture some wild dogs. It happened when the man had locked the dogs up onto the tray of his truck and took a cigarette break in the driver’s seat. He heard a rustling sound, as if sand had been falling down. Taking a closer look, sand had piled up under his seat. It reached up to the man’s ankle, and no matter how much he struggled, it soon reached up to his waist. He tried to open the door and escape but by then the sand has already reached the height of his shoulders, rendering him unable to move. At last, the driver’s seat had been covered in sand up to his neck.

With a thump, the car began to shake and he saw the dogs that were supposed to be locked up on the tray fleeing the truck, one after the other. He later checked the tray and found that although he locked it up, the door seemed to be damaged.

Through the car’s windscreen, the man covered in sand caught a glimpse of a Boston Terrier. The dog crossed in front of the car calmly, just as if he was looking down at humans, mocking them.

„Was he looking for friends?”

„He might have simply been acting on a whim. Here is some additional material.”

The Speedwagon Foundation staff member showed me another several pages long document. It seemed to be a pedigree paper, a registration certificate with a thread diagram and the owner’s name.

„We have confirmed that he ran away from somewhere. It looks like he belonged to a wealthy man in a kuxurious mansion.”

„How do you know?”

„We asked around about a Boston Terrier that loves coffee flavour chewing gum. It wasn’t easy, though...”

According to this man’s story, the time a wealthy household’s pet dog ran away and disappeared and the time this Boston Terrier was first seen in Manhattan lined up. The house’s butler confirmed that without a doubt, this dog had a bizarre obsession with coffee flavoured chewing gum.

„At this house, they used to call him Iggy.”

„Iggy, huh...”

Iggy, the odd dog with the power to manipulate sand.

He must have been hiding somewhere around Manhattan even now.

„We, the Speedwagon Foundation also took part in the stray dog hunt to help capture him but it was all in vain. It would be a problem if nobody manages to catch him...”

„He probably wants to avoid falling back into that man’s hands.”

Fear confuses the mind. Just a couple of months ago I met a certain man. That man wasn’t human, he wasn’t something that was supposed to be real, something that was supposed to exist. He showed up and called out to me in an intoxicating, beautiful voice.

With a disgraceful shriek, I ran away.

I haven’t returned to my hometown since then.

I shoved a bunch of reports inside my suitcase and stood up.

I left the Speedwagon Foundation’s building. Midtown was a prosperous area even on the island of Manhattan. Skyscrapers were towering on each side of the main street, their highest floors disappearing into the clouds. All kinds of people dressed in all sorts of clothes were crowding the streets and a variety of languages could be heard. I even saw quite a number of Arabics just like myself.

I stopped a taxi passing by and sat in the back. I gave my hotel’s name to the driver, apparently it was right around Central Park. It was a top notch hotel booked by the Speedwagon Foundation. The driver, a fat white man, took a look at me from the rear-view mirror and, without saying a word, stepped on the gas pedal.

The Speedwagon Foundation was established by a man named Robert E. O. Speedwagon. They were dedicated to studying medicine, pharmacology, archeology and ecology among others, working for the sake of people’s livelihood and welfare. The founder, Mr Speedwagon had already passed away but by means of his will, my American friend and his family got to enjoy the Foundation’s support.

After just a while, the taxi arrived before my hotel. The driver stopped the taxi’s fare meter and stuck his hand out to me.

„Seventy-five dollars.” An arrogant attitude rang from his voice.

„Seventy-five dollars? There must be a mistake.”

Just now, I took a taxi from the airport to Manhattan but this price was higher than the fare I paid that time.

„No, it’s seventy-five dollars. Look at the meter, it says seventy-five, doesn’t it?”

The white driver pointed at the price shown by the liquid crystal screen on the instrument panel with a thick finger. It was the meter displaying the fare. Certainly, it said seventy-five dollars. It was probably overcharging to rip off tourists. I’ve heard of a trick that, by modifying the meter, made it show an unfairly high fare.

„I’m afraid your meter is broken. That’s why it is displaying such an odd number.”

The driver tapped it as if to test it and clicked his tongue.

„This is the latest model, I just got it recently. There’s no way it’s broken. If you’ve got that, pay those seventy-five dollars.”

„No, I’m certain it is broken. There, take a look at the screen. Isn’t the display a bit odd?”

„...the hell, what’s up with this?” The driver sounded puzzled. The liquid crystal screen was flickering. He started sweating – the temperature inside the car was rising. It was me, using my powers just a little bit.

A charred smell began to waft in the air. The meter was burning up from the heat on the inside until nothing showed up on its screen anymore.

„It’s smoking!”

From the gaps of the machine, white smoke was leaking. The driver let out a scream as he saw it and tore the door open, getting out of the car. I took my bags and stepped outside as well.

„How on earth...?! It was brand new,” the driver yelled, checking the meter inside the car through a window. The heat melted the screen and the surrounding devices looked charred as well. I took out some banknotes and offered what I thought to be an appropriate amount to him.

„From Midtown to here the fare should be this much. Your meter was broken, that’s why it was showing an odd number.”

„Aah, yeah... I guess that’s what it was.”

Frankly, the driver didn’t really look like he cared, he was rather disheartened. Even now, he seemed to be on the brink of crying. He was a bad person and he deserved no sympathy. Had I not heated the meter up just enough to damage it, he would have scammed other tourists. The Old Testament’s Exodus had said so – an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

The driver put a cigarette in his mouth, he probably needed a smoke to calm down. I held out my hand in the cigarette’s direction, pinching its end between my thumb and index finger. The man looked up at me, tensing up. I was taller even than most Americans.

„Your job should come first. That’s what they say in my hometown. From now on, live an earnest life!”

Heat arose between my fingers. The end of the cigarette lit up in red, smoke rising up. Making sure it did, I let go of it. The driver stared at the light, dumbfounded.

„Are you a magician?”

He must have thought that because I lit a fire without a match or a lighter.

„No, I’m a fortune teller.”

Picking up my baggage, I walked away.

The hotel was a building with a feeling of historical importance and dignity. Stepping through the front entrance, I got overwhelmed by a magnificent lobby. Each and every lighting fixture was like a piece of jewelry. At the reception desk, I made arrangements regarding my accomodation. I put down my name and passport number on a form. The receptionist took a look at it, and called out my name with a smile.

„Mr. Mohammed Avdol! We’ve been expecting you.”

#iggy the stray dog #野良犬イギー #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jjba #stardust crusaders #my translation #idk what else to put here #translating from one foreign language to another is a bitch of a work #so if it reads weird thats why #hope its still enjoyable uwu

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spearxwind · 2 years

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Like. okay stay with me for a second yes this is gonna be another hyttd post

pov: you are me, a dragon obsessed 14 year old, super into the whole biology of them thing, and the first movie presents you with: hey, turns out all dragons are different body language wise and even though they all breathe fire all their fires are different etc, and they are portrayed as realistic animals theyre allowed to be weird etc etc etc and im like OH COOL!!!

and then the second movie rolls around and after you get past the initial ooahhh of stoic dying and whatever else happens youre like ok. I didnt learn a single thing about the dragons this time, even tho there were MORE dragons, and they retconned their older lore where the Red Death was holding them hostage to feed itself, so now another dragon we’ve never even heard of before for some reason controls them like theyre bees? And we just never learn how that works either. And furthermore, Valka has all this knowledge of dragons she never shares. you get to see it once or twice when she fucking pressure-point-knockouts a couple of them but you never get any honest to god info like you did in the training arena sections of the first film. But yeah whatwver anyways toothless becomes alpha inexplicably so they re-retcon their own lore in the same movie and youre like, ok i guess

and then the THIRD movie happens and its like. what the fuck? the problem is that there are too many dragons in berk, right? And yet theres barely any dragons in that movie at all. You dont see them act like animals theyre more like, smartass Entities (except for toothless who gets all of his braincells deleted in the favor of being Horny).

Barring everything obviously wrong with the sequels which both I and many others have endlessly harped on for ages already, on a more personal note it feels like the dragons stopped being part of the movies, so to speak. The plot somehow still revolves around them, but they are only important as set pieces. Like the bewilderbeest, or cloudjumper, or god forbid the funny venom guys from hidden world (and the one big horned dragon I guess). They stop being animals with high intellect and defined behaviors and personalities and just become Funny Alive Vehicle. The only ones who ever get development are toothless, kind of, and the main gang at the start of the second film (I think? Though I might be confusing said development with riders of berk. Ill stop here though I feel like im going insane. thanks for reading if you did. like and subscribe for more lukewarm takes)

#httyd #thunderclap #category 6 alex moment.#SORRY WHEN I GET IN THE HTTYD WAVE I JUST BLACK OUT AND GO INTO A THINKING SPIRAL I WILL STOP I PROMISE #remembering that one anon who said i always complain about everything i watch. you are correct. but i complain with a reason #i enjoy critical thinking #as a sidenote theres a comment in that youtube video about how DW had all the sequels planned to be about hiccup growing up #and now i cant help but think what a fucking weird message they are sending if thats the case #when httyd 1 came out it was THE movie. for weird little snot nosed bitches like i was who liked dragons. it felt like it was made for us #and i know a lot of my peers related... its a very common sentiment through fans. like that movie captures a feeling WE know or wished for #that acceptance of our nonsense... the dragons... what have you. and then the sequels work on... taking it away #sure it has been accepted. but now it has to leave. you have to grow up and put it away. what??? how does that make any sense??#it feels like a punch to the gut yknow? idk if im making sense to you but it makes sense to me. anyway thats all for realsies now i prommy

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