Where it all started

It was Friday night and I was bored, I had just heated something up flopped onto the couch with three beers, I drink, and started watching the trid while I stuffed my gob. A few hours later I was wondering about heading out for a bit when Winston, my dog, let one rip. “Gawd, Winston!” I roared fanning the air with my eyes tearing up. He might be my dog, and I love the depraved little bastard but Christ I wondered why it smelt like he ate a tear gas canister and part of a corpse. It was possible he had. He half growled and whined on his back already sleeping as one of his back legs kicked, probably got burnt slightly by that toxic emission. I figured that was my cue to get out of the pad for a bit. I opened the window to the fire exit and yelled at him to be back for sun up if he went out.