[Intro – explosive upbeat guitar riff, pounding punk drums, bouncing bass] [Verse 1 – fast energetic female punk vocal] Checked into the hotel, bags dumped on the floor, Doogie found the minibar, Paula checked the door. Everything was going fine, two Beagles, one small room, I went downstairs for something— came back way too soon. Door still open. Leads still there. Bedsheets on the ground. Two suspicious Beagle-shaped absences were found. Run into the hallway, nothing left or right— How the fuck did both my dogs just vanish out of sight?! [Pre-Chorus – energetic build] Three fucking minutes! Maybe four! How much trouble can they find? Then somebody from reception says, “I think I saw them pass by.” [Chorus – huge joyful punk vocal] DOOGIE! PAULA! WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GO?! TWO LITTLE BEAGLES RUNNING THE WHOLE DAMN SHOW! UPSTAIRS! DOWNSTAIRS! EVERYBODY'S SEEN THEM BOTH! I CHECKED INTO A HOTEL— NOW MY DOGS FUCKING OWN IT! [Fast bright guitar riff] [Verse 2 – rapid playful vocal] Second floor, conference room, twenty people dressed in grey, Doogie's sitting by the projector like he's worked there half the day. Someone gave him half a biscuit, someone scratched him on the head, He's watching quarterly figures like he understands what's said. Grab his collar— Where's Paula? Woman points across the hall. “Other dog went towards the kitchen.” Oh, for fuck's sake. Run downstairs, swing through double doors, Chef is laughing by the counter— Paula's checking kitchen floors. Something hanging from her mouth. Definitely food. She sees me coming, turns around— [Shout-sung] AND FUCKING LEAVES! [Chorus – bigger] DOOGIE! PAULA! THIS IS NOT YOUR FUCKING HOME! ONE'S ATTENDING BUSINESS MEETINGS! ONE'S ON CATERING PATROL! UPSTAIRS! DOWNSTAIRS! NOW THEY'RE MOVING AS A TEAM! I JUST WANTED ONE QUIET NIGHT— YOU LITTLE FUCKING MACHINES! [Instrumental Break – fast melodic guitar lead, driving bass] [Verse 3 – dense fast punk vocal] Paula hits the staircase, Doogie joins her on the way, No idea how he escaped me, that's a problem for another day. Third floor! Housekeeping! Someone says they went past four! Fourth floor! Empty corridor! Then we hear the elevator door. DING! Doors open. Nobody inside. Too late. Little paw prints down the carpet, heading somewhere near the stairs. Now the receptionist is helping, chef has joined the fucking hunt, Business bloke from the conference says he'll check around the front. Half the hotel knows their names now. This has gone completely wrong. Somebody shouts, “Found the Beagles!” [Shout-sung] NOPE! THEY'RE FUCKING GONE! [Bridge – driving melodic punk vocal] Lobby. Stairs. Another floor. Every sighting leads to more. Doogie here. Paula there. Beagle rumours everywhere. Then the whole place suddenly goes suspiciously quiet. No paws. No barking. Nothing. I really don't fucking like it. [Drums build] [Final Verse – fast excited vocal] Back into the lobby, out of breath and seeing red, Receptionist is calling someone, chef just shakes his head. Then behind us comes a noise. One tiny electronic— DING. Everybody turns around. Elevator doors slide wide. Doogie standing on the left. Paula standing on the right. Doogie's got a napkin tied loosely round his neck. Paula's chewing something. I don't even wanna check. Both step calmly from the lift like everything went fine. Twenty people start applauding— [Shout-sung] THESE FUCKING DOGS ARE MINE! [Final Chorus – huge euphoric punk vocal] DOOGIE! PAULA! THERE THE FUCK YOU BOTH ARE! YOU'VE SEEN MORE OF THIS HOTEL THAN ANY PAYING GUEST SO FAR! UPSTAIRS! DOWNSTAIRS! LEFT YOUR MARK ON EVERY FLOOR! CHECKED IN WITH TWO BEAGLES— NOW THE WHOLE DAMN HOTEL KNOWS! DOOGIE! PAULA! ABSOLUTE FUCKING MENACES! ONE NIGHT! ONE ROOM! SIXTEEN SEPARATE INCIDENTS! PACK THE BAGS! GRAB THE LEADS! WE'RE GETTING OUT ALIVE! [Shout-sung] AND NEITHER OF YOU IS LEAVING MY FUCKING SIGHT! [Final euphoric guitar riff] [Outro – warm energetic sung vocal] Back inside the hotel room, both asleep before eleven. Best night of their fucking lives. Mine? Three out of seven.
