Soon after, Cotton was back on the streets, looking for a bite to eat again. She looked down at her stomach as it let out a rumble.

‘Damn. Fighting with those guys must’ve drained my tank,’ she thought. ‘If only that kid hadn't looked away from his phone’.

Looking up, Cotton spotted a hot dog stand across the street from her. She smiled, the line of freshly cooked hot dogs sizzling on the grill taunting her nose as if they were made especially for her. 

Instead of pulling the classic puppy-dog-eyes trick from earlier, Cotton quickly snuck over and carefully snatched every single hot dog with her paw. 

The vendor was too busy with a customer to notice her taking the hot dogs. And before he realized what had happened, Cotton had fled from the scene and into an alleyway.

Camping by a garbage can, she looked around making sure she was alone. Once she was sure no human, rat, or stray dog would try to jump out at her, she finally took a bite of the hot dogs she had just scored.

“You know, today hasn't been half bad,” she said to herself, happily chewing away at her meal. “Got those stupid dog catchers outta my hair again and scored the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

She swallowed and sighed contently. “If anything, it's probably going too well!”

Tap

She snapped up. Something was up ahead, right where the two alleys intersected. She wasn't alone. Fur bristling, she shoved her hot dogs behind her and turned to face the alleys, ready to fight.

“I know you’re there! Show yourself and I’ll make this quick!” she growled.

Walking out from around the building was a tall, Doberman mix, accompanied by two other dogs behind him. He slowly walked up to her, his eyes tracing the outline of her body.

“So, you must be the infamous Golden Flash,” he said. “Not going to lie, I expected ya to be much bigger”

“And who the hell are you?” Cotton glared.

The Doberman smiled. “The name’s Butch. I'm the new vice-captain for the Coyote Brothers. I'm sure you’ve heard of us by now, right?”

Cotton groaned in exacerbation.

“Not you guys again.”

“So you have heard of us.”

“You could say that. One of your guys tried approaching me a week ago begging me to join. He even tried hitting on me.”

Cotton then grabbed a hot dog with her paw. “Took me tearing his ear off for him to get the message”, she said. She abruptly cut herself off by violently biting into the hot dog.

The two lackeys accompanying Butch looked at each other nervously. Butch, on the other hand, cleared his throat.

“While I can't speak for our former vice-captain did, I can assure you all that all of us in the pack will respect your personal space”

He looked down at Cotton, but she was still giving him the stink eye. 

“We’ve been eying you for a while, Flash. We’ve seen what you can do, and we would love to have you as one of our brothers. And not some low-level position either! We’re willing to give you any high-ranking position you want if you join us!”

Cotton continued to eat away at her hot dogs as if she was ignoring every word he was saying. Trying to keep his composure, Butch took a deep breath.

“Just think about it! We’re the largest and most powerful stray pack in the city!”

“What about the Royal Felines, Boss?” one of his lackeys interrupted.

Butch snapped his head back at him and glared angrily at him.

“Dont. Bring. Them. Up!” he growled through gritted teeth.

The lackey stammered. “Eh-uh..u-uh sorry boss!”

He looked back, assuming his calm, salesman-like facade, twisting his face into a charming smile.

“As I was saying, we’re the most powerful pack in New York City. And with you by our side, we would be unstoppable! So what do you say?”

Cotton finished off the last of the hot dogs and gulped loudly.

“Sounds tempting...” she said, feigning interest. “But I think I’ll pass”

She sat down and scratched her leg as she continued.

“I don't really work well in groups and even if I did join, you guys would just be holding me back. I can't imagine any of you are on my level”

Butch’s eyes began to twitch as veins began appearing on his forehead, his ever so carefully controlled composure beginning to slip.

“Although now that you guys brought it up, the Royal Felines sound a lot more attractive to me. They don't sound like the type of guys to fight over who has the biggest balls. Though that probably isn't saying much since you don’t seem to have any”

Butch looked down below while his lackeys tried to hide their laughter. Glancing back up at Cotton, he glared furiously at her, his calm and collected facade having completely melted.

“You little-”

But before he could react, Cotton spun around and hit him with her tail. He flew back and crashed into a wall, leaving his lackeys’ jaw dropped.

“She...She used her tail like a bat!” one of them exclaimed.

“But that’s impossible! A dog’s tail isn't that tough!” exclaimed the other, staring at Cotton. “Who the hell are you?!”

Cotton just smirked at them. “I told you! I’m the Golden Flash! And if you think I’m just some normal dog, think again!”

And with that, she ran off down the alleyway in the other direction.

“Hey! Get back here!” Butch shouted, getting up. “I’m not finished with you!”

He got up to chase her but was stopped by the two lackeys.

“Forget it, boss! We’re no match for her!” one of them said.

“We’ll get here next time. You gotta remain calm!”

Butch gritted his teeth, trying his best to quell his temper. He always had issues controlling his anger, and Cotton had seriously pressed the right buttons. Finally, he hung his head down, admitting defeat.

“Let's go,” he said. 

And with that, the three began making their way home. However, Butch couldn't stop thinking about Cotton’s attack from earlier. Despite being a tail, it felt like he had been hit with a metal bat or a steel pipe. No dog’s tail was strong enough to do that.

‘Cotton...’ he thought. ‘Just what the hell are you?’

Meanwhile, across the city at the New York Animal Control Center...

“You idiots!”

Jim and Phil grimaced as their boss slammed his fist on his desk. They had dreaded telling him about what happened. There was no doubt about it; they knew he wouldn't take it well, but they didn’t think it would be this bad. His face was a deep shade of red, and he looked as if he was about to pop a blood vessel at any moment.

“I gave you two all the personnel and resources to catch that damn dog and what ends up happening? Half of our employees are hospitalized and your van caused a massive pile-up on Ocean Avenue!” he yelled. 

He held up his phone, showing a video of their van crashing into traffic, which had made its way onto YouTube. Phil took a deep breath, attempting to summon the remains of his shattered self-confidence.

“Mr. McAfee, please! It wasn't our fault!” he began.

“That dog was just too strong,” Jim added.

“And that dog is barely bigger than your boots!” their boss interjected. “That Golden Flash has been causing havoc all over Brooklyn for weeks! Now You’re telling me two grown men aren't strong enough to catch her?”

Jim spluttered. “But the security tapes-”

“I don’t give a damn about whatever footage you got. For all I know, you probably got some film students from the School of Visual Arts to whip up some CGI effects in Photoshop!

“Photoshop’s for-”

“Get out of my office!”

Mr. McAfee pointed towards the door, and Phil and Jim left without another word, knowing their boss wouldn't listen to them at this rate.

After the meeting with their boss went south, Phil and Jim retreated to the deserted employee lounge to eat their late lunch. 

While he was downright pissed, Jim tried his best to keep his anger subdued by eating his sandwich. He didn't want to say anything that would get him fired. 

Phil, however, did not have any qualms about speaking his mind.

“That goddamned McAfee!” he growled. “He thinks we’re bullshitting him!”

Jim shushed him. “Be quiet! Someone could come in here and rat us out. And then we’d be in deeper shit!”

“I don't care at this point! That bastard thinks we’re not taking this task seriously. But it's not our fault that the Golden Flash is a real-life Krypto the SuperDog!” he said, clenching his fists.

Jim looked down at the floor. 

“I think the worst part is that even if he did see the tapes, people would think we’re lying about it,” he conceded. “I mean, if you went up to some random person and told them that there’s a dog out there with red eyes who’s as strong as an elephant, they would laugh you out!”

“Red eyes, you say?” a voice echoed behind them.

Phil and Jim jumped. They swore the lounge was empty when they arrived. They didn't hear anyone else come in. 

Phil and Jim slowly turned their heads towards one of the tables, trying to figure out where the voice had been coming from. Sitting on the far right of the closest table was a man clad in a gray suit and sunglasses.

"No, no, please continue. I insist"