Author: Brianna Goldberg

Brianna Goldberg

TODAY IN HOT DOG COURT: What King Hot Dog didn’tknow, when he found the squeeze bottle of relish on Queen Hot Dog’s night-stand EVEN THOUGH he is clearly allergic to pickles, was that the Heinz was only the tip of the iceberg. Queen Hot Dog was beginning to slip up in keeping her long-standing HORRIBLE SECRET. Perhaps she was becoming prematurely demented. Perhaps she wanted to get caught. Either way, it was now only a matter of time until her fetish for pickled condiments, and her affair with Manjula the chutney lady (with whom she shared the majority of her briny flings…), would come out into the open. And so, as King Hot Dog stood there holding the squeeze relish, she had a decision to make. Spill the beans about Manjula now, and risk making her a target? He had killed his own brother with his bare hands… Or would she continue to live her lie just that little bit longer?

(Source: https://www.youtube.com/)
Brianna Goldberg

AND NOW FOR ANOTHER PEEK INTO THE INTRIGUE AND NITRATES BURBLING IN THE HEART OF HOT DOG COURT

On the outskirts of town, the Chien Chaud family gathered for their evening meal. 

“Papa,” whimpered Pierre, only seven days old, “today at school, zee uzzah keeds, zey… zey said I was not a real ‘ot dog… because of zee croissant blanket zat I wear.”

“ZISS IS AN OUTRAGE,” roared Henri. “WE PAY OUR TAXES HERE, LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. WE CONTREEEBUTE TO ZEE MONTHLY RELISH-STOMPING DUTIES, LIKE EVERYONE ELSE IN ZIS TOWN.”

His rage gave rise to a blistering silence. Quiet chewing. A napkin dabbed at the corner of Pierre’s mouth.

Claudine drew her son into the crook of her shoulder. “Shhh, ma chere,” she whispered. “Your fazzah, he ees just so scarred from zee ethnic ostracism. You know, zat ees how he lost hees own muzzah.”

“I know,” said Pierre. “I just weesh zere was some way zose leetle pieces of crap who torment me… I weesh they could get theirs.”

“What!? Don’t be seeely. You are but a child. Do not theeenk such theeengs.” Claudine had no idea, of course, that Pierre was already the leader of an adolescent motorcycle gang and extremely sexually active.

The rage cloud lingered in its awkwardness and threat.

Henri had lost his appetite, and clamoured up the stairs to brood over his stamp collection.

The King of Hot Dog Court is a foot-long. His crown is carved radish and capers; his scepter is one of those toothpicks with a frizzly cellophane tip.

Brianna Goldberg

The hot dog people* refer to him as “Your Beefiness,” but Queen Hot Dog just calls him “Percival Amanda-Marie.” (His parents had a sense of whimsy when it came to naming.) His Beefiness’ favourite record is Lionel Ritchie’s “Dancing on the Ceiling.” Baked Alaska is his favourite meal. He killed his only brother to take the throne. He is a salty monster.

[*Hot Dog Court FAQ]