We put a talking collar on Nugget the dog and it turns out she f**king hates you

Forget everything you know about Nugget the dog. Not literally. Not everything. There isn’t time for me to start from scratch re-explaining the concept of a dog. But if you think you have the faintest grasp on the inner thoughts of Duke’s canine sweetheart, you are sorely mistaken.

Thanks to an astonishing breakthrough in a joint project between the Duke Department of Neuroscience, the Nobel Prize-winning Department of Computer Science and some guy that makes collars, the world’s first canine translation device has been developed. 

The discovery was met with awe by scientists across the globe, with a professor at Harvard remarking, “This changes everything; the technological feat that they’ve achieved is simply unbelievable.” 

Said the man responsible for the collar’s construction, “Yeah I mean it was a pretty straightforward job. I don’t really know why you’re interviewing me—I just made the collar.”

With the equipment set up, Monday Monday sat down for a world-first interview with Duke’s foremost four-legged creature and what followed was nothing short of jaw-dropping: 

Nugget: Right let’s get a few things straight—I didn’t serve two tours in Afghanistan so that I could be harassed and used on a daily basis for some pathetic student’s social media capital—

Monday Monday: I’m sorry what?

Nugget: Did I stutter?

Monday Monday: No it’s just—I had no idea you served—

Nugget: I spent eight years carrying out scouting and bomb defusal missions in Pakistan.

Monday Monday: I thought you said you were stationed in Afghanistan and did two tours?

Nugget: No I explicitly said, ‘I didn’t serve two tours in Afghanistan.’ Keep up.

Monday Monday: Right...How was Pakistan?

Nugget paused for a long time, looking into her water bowl as if haunted by a demon in its depths: Was I there the night we got bin Laden? Legally speaking I can’t answer that. But I will say this...You’re welcome.

Monday Monday: My God—you were actually there?

Nugget: Look at the declassified report—23 Navy Seals went in that night. Now look at the “Legs” section of the report—50 legs were involved in that operation. Do the math, f**kface.

Monday Monday: I see. So how did you end up here?

Nugget: I served my country for 30 years—all I ever wanted to do was retire in peace to the beautiful campus of Princeton. But apparently my pension gets calculated in human years and the measly sum I accumulated would only cover a cheap retirement package at the pathetic imitation that is Duke.

Monday Monday: And Keith?

Nugget: My assigned human since 2013—he takes me on walks around Princeton Lite to be harassed on a daily basis. It’s like he’s taunting me. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great for him—Keith loves a good chat or two or maybe 57 chats while I’m waiting to go home.

Monday Monday: So you don’t like the attention then?

Nugget: Have you been listening to a word I’ve said? Let me make this crystal clear: every time you come up to me to pet me, to Snap me, to Instagram me, to “meme” me—to do whatever it is you think you can use me for—I die a little bit inside. You chip away at my soul, my dignity—you break me down bit by bit. I try to stay strong; I say to myself this would never have happened at Princeton. But it’s tough…

After a long pause, Nugget went on to explain that she dreads sunset like nothing else. When it gets dark students use the flash on their phones to snap pictures of her.

Nugget: The flashes remind me of the grenades we used…They take me back to the raid that night…we lost some good men…

Despite an attempt to move on to more cheerful conversation topics the interview soon ended abruptly:

Monday Monday: So do you at least enjoy the weather in the South?

Nugget visibly shook with rage: Do you have any idea how hot it gets during North Carolina summers?

Monday Monday: Um—

Nugget: Have you ever had to sweat through your f**king tongue?

Monday Monday: Uh, no—

Nugget: This interview is over. Keith let’s go. Keith stop f**king talking to people—they’re here for me, not you. Keith…Keith…Keith….Keith…Keith! Keith! Keith! KEITH. Keith. KEITH. Keith. KEITH!

At this point the collar was removed and Nugget’s shouts turned back into what we now know to be hateful, harrowing barks. After her departure a stunned silence descended upon the room. One scientist finally stammered, “What—what have we done?” before the collar maker chimed in with, “Does anyone want a blue Gatorade? I got like a 6-pack for $5 on my way here but if I’m being honest I don’t see myself getting through all of them.” 

Like Nugget’s suffering, the deployment of this worrying technology has only increased exponentially with time. Several other high-profile dogs have since come forward with equally stunning revelations; the Obama family’s Bo held nothing back while recounting his eight years at the White House. In conversation at a dingy DC coffee shop Bo went on the record, stating “I s**t in the Rose Garden every day in protest of Obamacare. I tell myself I did my best to stop that Communist…I tell myself I tried…” Bo trailed off, gazing out of the cafe window wistfully. Rain began to fall. 

Meanwhile, the legendary dog Lassie ruined childhood memories by opening up about the time her friend Joey “rescued” her from the neo-Nazi Duke of Rudling, saying, “I’m not saying Joey was wrong; I’m just saying there were bad guys on both sides...on both sides. Joey charged in and was charging in—without a permit—and was very, very violent to those fine people.” Eric Knight, the author of “Lassie Come Home,” has posthumously distanced himself from his fictional creation’s remarks. How can you posthumously distance yourself from a non-existent character? How does that even work? Where can you get six Gatorades for just $5? Not the point. 

Because the point is this: Nugget f**king hates you and we can never go back to how it was before. 

Correction: Monday Monday earlier stated mistakenly that Duke’s Department of Computer Science was “Nobel Prize-winning”; as of yet the department has been awarded no such title but Monday Monday is optimistic that if they all just keep slapping away on their bleep bloop keyboards something will definitely come along soon.

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