Never-Ending Dog Story
“This is great, a talking dog,” said Evil, thinking he'd get a novel or two out of the mutt. Then he realized...talking dog...cliché. He looked at Grisham. “You've got no reason to pee on the slush pile again. Just let me know, okay?”
“Food...food...bitch next door. Food.”
“Yeah, yeah. Forget the dog next door. She's a teacup chihuahua. You're a lab.”
“Food...food...crumbs by your feet. Lick myself. Bitch next door. Food.”
“Great, you're learning,” said Evil. “Damn--”
“Too late.” Grisham sniffed the couch and drove his head under the cushions. “Crumb. Funny smell. Food. Bitch next door. Lick myself. Food.”
Literary ending: “Well...you don't dangle your participles, at least...you apparently don't use them.”
Horror ending: “I'm getting you fixed if you pee on the floor or mention that bitch again.”
Romance ending: “If I introduce you to the bitch next door would you introduce me to the hot babe who owns her?”
Erotica ending: The bitch next door nosed open the front door....
SF ending: “Hey! What's that pod on your neck?”
Western ending: “Come on, doggie, let's rustle us up some chow and go walkies into the sunset.”
Fantasy ending: A mage, an elf and a dwarf with longbows entered the room. End, Vol. 1.
Historical fiction ending: Richard Nixon entered the room. “Checkers! So there you are. Come home to daddy.”
Humor ending: (Sorry, I couldn't think of one.)