The 52nd Win A Commission Contest was the film Napoleon (1995)! I wrote it in prose form in conjunction with my drawings (lmk if you think I should add the songs), so if you’d like to see that, please
Once upon a time, there was a golden retriever puppy, who had big dreams, and no idea how to reach them.
His mother had named him Muffin, but one day, he heard humans speak a name – Napoleon! – And knew that had to be his true name. In his soul, he knew his heart beat to a tune that was both more warlike and wild. Often he had even heard the howls of wild dogs. Unfortunately, no one else saw it like that, and his mother insisted on calling him Muffin.
It didn’t help that he was afraid of water. He told himself that while every warrior had his trials, there was no need to be afraid of the humans’ pool; he was bred for swimming. Still, he hesitated.
One day, the small human had a birthday party. Cruelly, but without malice – for many young creatures are oft inconsiderate – the child decided to show off Napoleon's adorable qualities by placing him on a turtle pool floaty. The puppy panicked. Then, in an even worse turn of events, the humans forgot he was there, and soon he floated to the middle of the pool – the stuff of nightmares for both him and his mother.
Thankfully, the floaty eventually made its way to the steps of the pool, and Napoleon rescued himself – though not before a balloon fell on his head.
Irritated, he chewed and slobbered on the various objects the children left by the poolside to assuage his ego.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something new to investigate - a basket, tied to a bunch of helium balloons. He crawled in, much to the chagrin of his mother. She asked him to get out immediately, but embarrassed and overfocused on asserting his bravery, he did not heed her commands. And as she was tied to the dog house, she could do nothing to enforce them.
His wiggling and jiggling as he sniffed all over the basket – it smelled and tasted like a child with a lightly sticky hands had been messing with it – he did not notice that the basket had come untethered. Only when he had righted himself, did he notice that the basket - and thus himself – were in fact, flying.
His mother pleaded with him to jump out, but the balloons rose too fast, and he was soon too high up to tumble out safely. Both parent and puppy were terrified, and she tried to assure her son that he would stuck get in the trees, and to just sit tight.
But through some twisted miracle, he floated into the open sky.
Trying to calm his nerves as his mother’s frantic barking grew fainter and the world underneath grew smaller, he sang a song of adventure. A warrior, a true, wild dog, must of course be able to make the best of bad situations.
Soon he floated out of the suburbs, and into Sydney, seeing the incredibly tall skyscrapers from above for the first time.
And just when he was starting to float down, and his hopes rose – for maybe some human could take him home! – His basket got caught on the front spike of a monorail train.
Speeding through the city, he enjoyed the wind in his face and the rush of people in cars below. Unfortunately, the train came to a stop, and his basket came loose, and once again, he was free - floating right towards the harbor. Water!
Soon, he was over open water, and the weight of the situation settled heavily on his poor heart. A plane passed overhead, but did not hear his pleas for rescue.
But a lost galah named Birdo did. Screeching and curious, but also cautious for the puppy, he encouraged Napoleon to sit more securely and balanced in the basket. However, Birdo was still a bird, and he had a bird-brained idea. As the two floated over a beach, Birdo started popping the balloons in an attempt to gradually lower Napoleon to land.
Bemused, for Napoleon did not quite follow the plan, he watched as the first popped balloon fell to the side of the basket. However, by the second, the basket began to worryingly shudder its way to the ground - and Napoleon was not close. Still, Birdo persisted.
Unfortunately, the fourth popped balloon was one too many, and the basket hurtled to the ground.
Horrified, Birdo screamed for Napoleon to jump out as the basket impacted, and then began bouncing and rolling violently down the windswept cliff. When the basket finally reached the bottom, Birdo feared the worst, for he saw no sign of the puppy.
But it was empty! Napoleon was on a rock ledge. He ridiculed Birdo, and the galah was both irritated at Napoleon's ingratitude, and worried over the puppy’s fate in the wild.
Napoleon, ignoring both his and Birdo’s fears, decided to embrace his situation and go look for wild dogs. He climbed up a different cliff to overlook a vast rainforest. Birdo warned him that house pets don’t survive out in the wild and said he should head home. Hearing the call of a wild dog, Napoleon ignored Birdo’s warnings and descended into the forest.
It was soon dark, but Napoleon wasn’t worried, making his way through the slender moonlit trees. High above him, a tawny frogmouth caught his attention and warned that housepets either died or became something monstrous to survive. Napoleon once again ignored the advice, believing that the frogmouth was merely trying to frighten him.
—
Eventually, Napoleon decided it was time to sleep. He had gone a long way today, and would likely have further to go.
Napoleon ran across a spider and asked her for a good place to sleep. She instead fished for a compliment about her web. Napoleon pointed out a mistake, panicked because it stuck to his nose, ran through the web and ruined some more of it with his tail. The spider was quite displeased.
Unconcerned, the puppy ventured forth, until he came to a great tree, with a tunnel running between its roots. Napoleon sniffed it, hoping that it could be his bed for the night, but found it to be someone’s home. Calling out in the hope of finding someone willing to share for the night, Napoleon did not notice a feral black cat watching him from above.
"Is that a mouse I hear?" the cat said rhetorically, stalking forward. Napoleon entered the tree roots. "Can’t have a mouse in my house." Napoleon munched on something inside. "Furry mouse. Big yellow mouse."
Napoleon thought he heard something but quickly turned back to the food.
"Time to rid my house of the mouse!” the cat said, coming into view.
"Huh? What?" Napoleon said, his wide, dark eyes shining against his pale yellow face.
"The mouse." The cat growled – whether or not in reply to Napoleon, only she would ever know. Her intense, yellow eyes squinted menacingly, her body barely standing out from the dark of the night.
Napoleon laughed nervously, panting. "Good thing I’m not a mouse."
"You can’t fool me with that pitiful disguise!" She crept forward and hissed. "I’ll RIP it off you!"
Napoleon tried to run, but the ribbon the birthday child had wrapped around his neck got caught. The cat growled, and the puppy ripped free, leaving the ribbon behind. She ran after him, in that flat, close to the ground way cats do, far more familiar with the landscape than he was.
He hid, hoping that a lack of movement would protect him from the grimalkin.
Unfortunately, he had hidden right next to a boulder, which was perfect for her to creep up, plan her attack, and then pounce on the unsuspecting Napoleon.
He ran into the forest, the cat catching him occasionally, and even once bowling him over. She chased him onto a log, crossing a small, muddy pond.
He froze when he realized he was stuck over water, and the cat taunted him.
“Listen to me. I am not a mouse. You are a deeply disturbed animal." Napoleon foolishly appealed to her sense of reason.
“Shuddup!” She snarled. Napoleon whimpered. "My job is to destroy all vermin in this house. The mouse must die, now!" She started biting at his face, hoping to knock him into the water.
The tawny frogmouth, who had been observing, took pity on Napoleon, and flew down, knocking the cat into the water.
Only bubbles rose.
The frogmouth scolded Napoleon, but he did not care, and mocked the spot where the cat fell in. Remembering his manners, Napoleon thanked the bird.
"That cat won’t rest until you’re dead,” It said.
"That cat is fishbait by now." The puppy scoffed, and ran away.
The cat rose out of the mud and swore revenge, but by then, Napoleon was far out of earshot.
—
Snuggled at the base of a tree, the sun rose, and Napoleon heard his mother say, "Rise and shine, Muffin. It’s a beautiful morning. Time to get up, Muffin. Wake up."
“Mom? Mommy?” He woke up, expecting his mom to be there, but was dismayed to find himself alone.
Shaking his sadness off, Napoleon scampered through the verdant rainforest, and congratulated himself for surviving his first night away from home. He came upon a waterfall, and sat stymied. Out loud he wondered why he was so afraid of water.
A bunch of rainbow lorikeets started mimicking him. In between taunts, they told him that the wild dogs are on the other side.
Soon, Napoleon’s desire to meet them won over his fear. He found a flat spot to cross, and the lorikeets mocked his progress. But he made it!
He met a much nicer lorikeet who confirmed his intel and sympathized with him over the rudeness of the others … which gave Napoleon an adorably wicked idea.
Crossing back over - for he was slightly distant desensitized to his fear of water by then – he tricked them into calling themselves stupid, and went on his way.
Eventually, he arrived in a less dense forest, and overhearing a suspicious sound, went to investigate.
In the clearing, on a slanted tree, was a koala.
Napoleon tried to growl at the koala, but he was nonplussed. After a little more boasting from Napoleon, the koala climbed down, unconcerned with the puppy’s antics as he followed behind his odd waddle on the ground.
Napoleon tried to goad the koala into climbing up a tree and spotting the wild dogs – for once again, he heard them, but could not seem to find them. The koala turned it back on him, and kept the fact that he couldn’t see farther than a meter in front of himself, until he was away from Napoleon's reach.
The puppy stalked away, irritated. That was when Birdo found him again. Napoleon immediately jumped on the chance of having a lookout, but accidentally insulted the galah instead.
He apologized and then ignored Birdo‘s advice about going home, instead, asking for wilderness survival skills.
Unfortunately, when trying to open up to Birdo, to convince the galah of his mission, Napoleon let slip that the that they called him ‘Muffin’ at home, near a dastardly frog, and the same taunting lorikeets from before, looking for revenge. On the spot, they came up with the whole song about how he should go home. Napoleon tried to bite the frog, but it plopped onto his head. Birdo, being a good friend, kept knocking the lorikeets off their perch, but they kept flying back.
Tail held high, Napoleon walked away from the twittering animals, and found a log floating in the water. Unthinkingly, he walked on, and was surprised when it detached from the shore and floated into a bay. Despite his dismay, he resolved to sit tight, and let it take him to the other shore, where he was headed anyway. Less work!
Of course, it ended up dead in the water.
Birdo, impatient and dedicated to keeping this dog alive if he wasn’t going to go home and save himself, decided to toughen Napoleon up. He swooped down and knocked the puppy into the water, encouraging him to doggy paddle.
Napoleon was surprised to find that he was really good at it – perhaps forgetting that he was literally a golden retriever. He still needed a little instruction on how to get up the bank, but he made it.
—
The first lesson to become a wild dog, Birdo decided, was food. They had reached a rocky area, overlooking mountains. Birdo lead Napoleon to a rocky hill, covered in dry grass. A chorus of rabbits briefly scattered into sight before hiding behind other boulders and grass.
"Do you want me to eat these?" Napoleon said incredulously. All he had ever eaten was his mother’s milk, dog food, and dropped human food.
“You want to eat," Birdo said, with no small amount of vicious glee in his voice, "You’ve got to learn to KILL!"
Napoleon's incredulity did not lift. But somehow, he was convinced to try. He wandered over to where the bunnies were flitting about.
Sadly, they moved so rapidly, Napoleon had trouble focusing on just one to catch. They sang as they escaped, aware that they had the upper paw, but unwilling to show anything other than caution.
Birdo sang in opposition, calling upon Napoleon's bloodlust and hunger to drive the puppy to kill. Napoleon managed to get one alone, and it sat huddled, mostly frozen to its own detriment, as the puppy engaged in rough play with its tremorous body. But the rabbit managed to gather its wits, and after it jumped on top of a rock, Napoleon lost interest.
Birdo scolded Napoleon, but eventually gave up on the bloody venture once the puppy found lichen to eat. It did not stop his complaints.
They moved to drier, flatter land. The next lesson, according to Birdo, was learning to discern whether an animal was dangerous or not.
Napoleon approached a wombat, but as soon as it caught sight of him, it ran away, screaming, "A house pet!"
Next, he found some quokkas, former victims of the cat. They were more friendly, but still shaken from the encounter. One’s ears were quite torn.
Birdo was satisfied, so they traveled onto some snow-topped mountains. Napoleon, who loved using his nose, remarked that snow made smelling more difficult. That did not stop him from smelling something unusual.
Birdo was uninterested. He felt that it was time to learn the third lesson, about the weather. In fact … he felt a huge storm coming.
The snow that sat on the trees shivered and fell. A large rumbling came ever closer. Then Birdo realized his mistake. The rumbling wasn’t a storm. It was brumbies!
"Run!" the bird screamed, and flew away, landing in a far tree.
As the feral horses thundered by, the bird realized with great dismay that he could no longer see his friend. He called out, but if there was an answer, the galah could not hear it.
Once the herd passed, Birdo fluttered down and searched amongst the trampled snow, panic rising. But Napoleon merely had slipped into a snow burrow.
Napoleon yelled at Birdo, for he had at least smelled the horses. Birdo protested, and it only made Napoleon angrier, vowing not to trust Birdos ‘faulty’ advice again, and ran down the mountain. His nose caught something, so the puppy paused for a moment, looking over the land below. "I smell sweets!” – Napoleon followed his nose to a field of what he thought was tall grass. Birdo followed, and tried to warn him what happens to fields of dry sugarcane.
Being a dog, and one irritated at Birdo, Napoleon ignored the warnings and followed his nose instead.
Napoleon ran into a red-bellied black snake, and was nearly drawn into its eyes, but Birdo’s worried screeching pulled him out of it.
The cane around him got hotter and hotter as he pushed further in. Then he smelled smoke. And where there is smoke, there is fire. Terrified, Napoleon trampled through the burning cane, skirting around blazes and coughing, while Birdo guided the puppy out with his voice.
Stumbling out of the cane, the two reunited joyfully, and Napoleon apologized.
Of course, that was when the cat caught up with them. Bird and puppy hurried away, the cat following close behind.
Surprisingly, they stumbled upon Birdo’s flock, whom he had been searching for these last few days. Birdo joyfully flew among his kin, screeching.
This gave enough distraction that the cat, not wanting to miss an opportunity to rid her ‘house’ of vermin, crept up on a tree full of galahs.
Happy for his friend, Napoleon wandered a gulley lined with red dirt, making slight fun of the reunited family as he passed underneath. By chance, Napoleon turned his head and saw the cat creeping up behind some of Birdo‘s cousins.
Napoleon had to yell repeatedly that the cat was behind them, their excitable din nearly causing their own demise. But the galahs noticed the cat and flew away in time.
Birdo didn’t see it that way, and scolded him. He hadn’t seen the cat, and only saw what he thought was Napoleon scaring his family away. He quickly changed his tune when the cat crept up behind him.
Napoleon sauntered away as the cat lay defeated in the tree, looking for Birdo. They soon found each other near a highway. Birdo failed to land on a traffic sign, and Napoleon refrained from commenting beyond a genuine query about his health, as Birdo delicately climbed onto his chosen perch.
"Where does this road go?" Napoleon asked.
"It leads to the shore, where you landed." said Birdo. "It can be one of the most dangerous places out here!"
The puppy shrugged him off, saying, "I know all about roads!"
This was when a tractor trailer truck came into view. Napoleon wisely got to one side, but then noticed a dark colored frilled-neck lizard, laying flat on the road. Desperately, he barked at the lizard, believing it to be asleep. He wanted to go into the road, to nudge it away from the path of danger, but Birdo and some of Napoleon's housepet instincts held him back.
The truck roared by, covering the poor lizard from sight. To Napoleon and Birdo surprise, once the truck passed, they saw the lizard lay unharmed.
Napoleon went forward to make sure that the lizard was all right.
"GO! AWAY!" snarled the lizard, terribly offended at Napoleon's proximity and concern. "THIS IS MY SPACE!" The lizard leapt threateningly into Napoleon’s face. Friendliness made Napoleon a little slow on the uptake, so he didn’t really walk away until the lizard leapt.
"Never expect gratitude from a cold blooded creature. Hah!" Birdo said, landing on the road to walk away with Napoleon.
Soon, they encountered dry shrublands. In between dull green plants with thin leaves, the red earth lay cracked and uneven.
Birdo urged Napoleon to go home, reminding the puppy that his family surely missed him.
Napoleon's eyes shined wetly, but he couldn’t ignore the call of the wild dogs. It was his lifelong dream, after all.
The two debated for a while, but Napoleon held fast, claiming it was a dog thing, and Birdo wouldn’t understand, but that he was grateful for all of Birdo’s help so far. They came to the edge of the desert, and both felt in their hearts that it was time to go their separate ways.
As evening fell, they sang a bittersweet duet of parting, and bid each other goodbye, wishing to meet again. Birdo flew off to rejoin his family, and Napoleon continued on his quest to find the wild dogs.
—
Napoleon followed along a narrow footpath.
A small, spiky animal groaned as it came his way, as if each step hurt. An echidna! Napoleon went over to say hi, but it dismissed him stingily, anticipating jokes about its appearance, and wishing to keep its potential water to itself. Napoleon assured it that he would share any water he found, but that didn’t seem to matter to the echidna. Then he made a poorly-timed pun, and the creature clumsily rolled into a small pit in sheer irritation.
The echidna begin to dig, though its small paws made for slow going. Napoleon helped, and the puppy quickly uncovered some water, and drank first, much to the echidna’s chagrin, complaining about germs.
Napoleon set off again, and found himself in the desert. Red sand laid burning, wind blown into long waves of dune lines, stretching on for desiccated kilometers. The puppy scampered across, as the gait afforded him less time for each paw to touch the scorching ground. Nevertheless, it hurt.
Brown mountains rimmed the stretch of land, and Napoleon kept along until he found a solitary tree, providing precious shade. There he rested among the dead branches bleached white like bones, when he spotted an odd animal.
It stood – as much as a lizard can stand – upon a shrubby hill, and howled and barked in a heart-sinkingly silly voice.
"That’s what I left home for?" The lizard barked some more as Napoleon stared on in disbelief.
Disconcertingly, the thing started approaching Napoleon, making odd gulping noises with each step it took.
"Were the wild dogs I’ve been hearing… that?” Napoleon had to make sure. He ran to the creature and asked.
Pleased with the attention, the goofy looking beast – which he came to realize was a perentie lizard - let out a long, ridiculous howl, ending in a guffaw. Without prompting, the lizard demonstrated his poorly rendered repertoire, which included cow noises.
Napoleon ran away, heartbroken and disillusioned, the lizard’s haunting "Moo. Moo. Moo. Moo. MOO!" echoing in his ears as he climbed up the mountains.
"I am such an idiot. All this time, I’ve been chasing after a barking lizard. There’s no wild dogs anywhere. I’ve been running after something that doesn’t even exist." He whimpered. "Now I’ve got no home. No wild life. I don’t have my mother. I don’t have the instinct to make it out here. I’m a dumb house pet.” He cried for a moment. “Who doesn’t know a retriever from a reptile. I don’t deserve the name Napoleon. Not a crumb like me." Then, with a sob, "I’m just a Muffin after all."
He kept running, racing along ridges, until at last he fell down from exhaustion.
—
When he came to, small creatures - rodents, or marsupials, he wasn’t sure - were running around, hiding in rock cracks and burrows. A few noticed him, and presumed him dead or soon to be. A rain storm loomed ever closer, and promised to sweep all incautious creatures away.
Napoleon got moving. He knew better now than to ignore their warnings. Sure enough, fat drops soon splattered the ground, and currents began to form as the water overtook the earth.
Running into a crevasse, desperately hoping to find himself a cranny or nook to press himself into until the flood was over, Napoleon stumbled into a cave that stretched upwards, away from the coming water.
It was still dry, the red soil still untouched by water that would turn it into a bland tan. Napoleon climbed upward, sniffing excitedly. A safe spot! And then, at the very top, a pale movement. Two other puppies!
"Mother? Is that you?" a sweet voice called out.
"Hello?" Napoleon couldn’t believe his eyes.
"A stranger! Get out, or we’ll attack!" a rougher one said. He knocked his sister down to Napoleon in the guise of a pounce.
They were creamy tan, with ears that were still floppy like his, but looked like they were going to lift up soon, likely into sharp points.
Nancy, for that was the girl puppy’s name, decided Napoleon was fine, and after clearing up that she and Syd (the other puppy) weren’t lost, that this was their home, she tried to play with Napoleon.
But it was not meant to be. A wave rushed into the cave, and soon caught up to where Napoleon and Nancy were standing, washing them away. Syd, safe on a rock shelf, screamed as his sister was thrown about, yelping. Napoleon managed to pull himself to sit on a rock shelf, a larger and stronger swimmer.
Napoleon took charge once he saw that Nancy was still in the water. He instructed her to keep talking, and to hold on.
Nancy disappeared for a moment, the boys’ hearts leaping into their throats. But then she reappeared on a rock, the water still lapping at her feet, threatening to catch her again.
Napoleon could feel his heart racing - all his troubles with water had lead right to this moment. He swam to Nancy’s rock, barely keeping his head above the water as lightning flashed and thunder rumbled.
But he made it! Too scared to swim, Napoleon coaxed Nancy onto his back. Confidence and a need to save her strengthened his paddles, as he pretended to be a boat, to distract her from panicking. Both stayed above water. He had a little trouble getting her onto the ‘dock’ -the rock shelf where her brother stood - but they managed.
And just as quickly as the rain had come, it stopped. And there, standing at the cave mouth, limned by the tentative sun, was a figure.
"It’s a wild dog!" exclaimed Napoleon in wonder.
"Of course it is. It’s our mother!" exclaimed Syd.
She shook the rainwater off, and smiled at the puppies.
"I’ve been with the wild dogs all along!" Napoleon couldn’t believe it.
In a comforting voice, the mother dingo said, "Syd. Nancy. Are you all right?" she panted. "Who is this?"
Shock at his own luck and a sudden drop in adrenaline hit Napoleon like a hammer, and he fainted.
—
He woke up hours later, with Nancy licking his face. After shrugging her off, and spotting her mother, he got straight to the point.
"Can I stay here with you? I want to be a wild dog."
"But what about your mother?" ask the dingo, her kind eyes watching from above.
"I want to live here. In the wild!" The other puppies pleaded his case too.
The mother dingo answered the only way she could: "Of course he can."
"I’m a wild dog. At last!"
All the puppies began to tussle out of sheer happiness.
—
The days passed by. The two dingo puppies played ‘Napoleon’ with the vanishing puddles, taking turns being rescued.
Both Napoleon and the mother watched over their antics. At the beginning, he would sometimes sit out of their games to make sure he did not tumble the other two puppies - being bigger and older, he could hurt them. But as time went on, he grew disillusioned with playing. For the last few days, he had not played at all, and only laid next to the dingo mother.
His new life in the wild didn’t quite satisfy him anymore. The thrill of living with real wild dogs was amazing, of course, but something felt missing. Napoleon thought it was just because they hadn’t started the more bloodthirsty aspects of the life, like fighting and hunting. But the dingo mother knew better, and so as she cuddled with the retriever puppy while he took a big nap, she made a plan.
—
"Wake up, Napoleon. Today is the day." She nudged him awake and led him out of the cave. “Come on, it will just be the two of us." She trotted it across a field of flat rocks, covered in red clay, and baked in the sun. Being unfamiliar with the terrain, Napoleon struggled to keep up, but was buoyed by enthusiasm.
"Tell me child; why did you leave home?" she asked.
"I wanted to go where there were no rules."
"And what did you find?" They crossed onto a plane of white sand.
"Well, I found that there were a lot of rules, about living with other animals, and being on your own."
Now they were walking parallel with the shore, black shells littering the ground. "And what did you want to do out here?"
“I wanted to hunt my food, and kill it!"
"And did you enjoy that?" Her voice continued to be kind.
"No. I ate moss instead." He confessed.
"Anything else you wanted?"
"Well, yeah! I wanted to stay up late and have fun all the time!"
"And did you? Have fun, all the time?" The two laid down, front paws ahead, watching as the sun bowed down to darkness.
“No. Sometimes it was scary. Lots of times I was alone."
"Then why do you want to be out here?"
"I want to be a wild dog! So I can be really brave and fearless!"
"But you’ve been that, all along. You couldn’t have come this far without being fearless. And it was YOUR bravery that saved Syd and Nancy." She paused, and then said, "In your heart, you’ve been a wild dog all along, Napoleon."
Their shadows grew long. "I guess I have!"
"Is there something more you want?".
"Well, yes."
"Tell me."
"I want – " Napoleon paused, for a moment, unsure if he was willing to say it. "I want to go home. I miss my mom."
"What if I told you I had a friend who could take you back?"
"Really?!"
"Come along." The sun‘s last rays lit the two dogs as they went back to the cave one last time.
—
The next day, Napoleon was treated to what was possibly the most inane song in existence as he rode in a red kangaroo’s pouch. Repeatedly, Napoleon was smashed full in the face with tall, bristly bushes and narrowly evaded what should have been easily avoided obstacles, such as trees. He called for help several times, but to no avail, as the kangaroo crooned to her ‘possum’. He tried hiding his face, but it didn’t fit well in the pouch.
As soon as she stopped, Napoleon hurried out and into the forest, to get away from her insanity. Somehow, he ran into the same koala as before.
"Well, well, " the koala drawled.
"Oh no, not him again!" Groaned the puppy.
"If it isn’t my favorite dining companion, the wild dog himself."
"No! I’m Napoleon! Wild house pet! Conqueror of the outback, and the backyard!" Napoleon declared, sure of himself.
“I can run fearless across waterfalls!" he yelled as he did just that.
The lorikeets, who still didn’t have anything better to do, mimicked him. "Little birds suck!" Was all he said, tricking them into insulting themselves once again.
Soon he was back at the beach where he first arrived. "Now what do I do?" he said, clambering over the rocks and pebbles that lined the shore. He could see home! But how was he to get across? Then he spotted his basket, a little worse for the wear, but still floating, and felt triumphant. He went over to the tide pool where it rested, bobbing occasionally with eddies of the waves.
But instead of it being empty, as he had assumed, a New Zealand Adélie penguin popped his head out! It was nearly full grown, but was still small and round.
They argued a bit, but the puppy was able to assert ownership over the basket, and then they fell to talking. As Conan the penguin kept extolling his fierce nature and super–penguin abilities, Napoleon had to laugh; the little bird was exactly like him at the beginning of his journey!
Conan’s speech started to turn dangerous, so Napoleon decided to tell his own story, hoping to help the penguin avoid his own mistakes.
—
By the time he finished, an unconvinced Conan stood watch as Napoleon struggled to climb into the basket – the plan was that he would be carried out into the bay at high tide during midnight. But the penguins' bravado dissolved as soon as he saw his family.
"Pengy!” a raucous voice called out. Conan tried to hide, but as his mother just called out “Pengy!” again, he reluctantly turned to face them. Napoleon laughed at the silly name.
Terribly embarrassed, Conan waddled up a dune to escape, only to find his family already there.
Apologetic, Napoleon convinced the family that he could persuade Conan to go home. He felt bad for making fun of Conan’s name, but still thought it best to try and stop any so-called adventuring – even going so far as to continue to call him Pengy.
Napoleon climbed into the basket before Conan could, annoying the penguin.
"It’s my turn to howl! You’ve had your fun!" said the penguin, who then howled in a goofy manner. Conan began waddling up a hill, continuing to monologue about his future adventures.
There was a low rumble. At first, it sounded like a vicious wind blowing through trees, but it soon transformed into a noise Napoleon knew and dreaded. It came from the hilltop.
"That sounds… Could it be?" Napoleon tilted his head in hopeful confusion. "Hello, is somebody else up here?"
Rocks fell. Napoleon knew it had to be her. "She’s back!" he yelped, voice high with fear.
Lightning illuminated a black figure, stalking downhill. Unconcerned and unaware, Conan carelessly looked for the cat, peering down and making empty threats, as the predator gazed from above. Thunder rolled, and again, the cat growled.
Napoleon scrambled out and up the hill. He couldn’t let that dumb bird die!
"Time to rid my house of the mouse!" the cat announced.
Finally, seeing her, Conan, ignorant of his impending mortality at the claws of the creature above, suavely said, "All right. Come on! Let’s go, hunt down a few."
"But I’ve already found one! An unusual, black and white mouse."
Napoleon finally arrived. "Leave the penguin alone!"
"Well, if it isn’t the Muffin mouse!", she hissed. "The mouse dies!" She lashed out at him, claws outstretched.
Finally getting a clue, Conan waddled away. “Well. There is such a thing as too much adventure!"
“Just you and me, wacko!" Napoleon challenged.
"Seems unfair, nine lives against one," the cat quipped.
Within his head, Napoleon quickly came up with a plan to get her into the water, where the cat seemed much less of a threat. "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!" he called, while backing closer to the water.
Showing her absolute detachment from reality, she followed his call. As both walked across constantly wave–beaten slippery rocks, one hit her body, and she slipped off the rock, yelling.
"Bull’s-eye!" Napoleon yelled, then gasped as he saw the drenched cat hissing from behind another rock.
"You’ll pay for that!" she vowed.
"Okay, it’s payday!" Napoleon ran up a hill.
The cat shook herself and followed.
"Come on!" he taunted. "Come after me!" Napoleon slipped and loosened some rocks, sending them tumbling at the cat's face.
"No!" she wailed, unable to stop as the rocks underneath her paws became loose and pulled her now towards the edge. "Kill! No!" she hooked a paw on the ledge as more rocks tumbled down, persistent to the last.
"Running out of lives?" Napoleon said unsympathetically.
"I still have many more!" Her paw was slipping. "Come, let me slash you!"
“Happy landings!"
"Slash you with-" She shrieked, falling to the dark depths below.
Napoleon pulled himself to the peak, and looked down at the tumultuous water. "I knew that cat was on the edge." The waves raged on. "Look at that! Guess she used up her lives." Suddenly, he remembered Conan. "But what about that penguin? Hey Pengy, you down there?"
The cat watched the golden figure from behind, hate burning in her eyes. She hissed, and Napoleon sent a glance her way, but he must have not seen her, for she she was able to rush behind and headbutt him off the cliff.
She laughed at the puppy stuck on the ledge below. "That’s it! No more games."
"Games?!" exclaimed Napoleon incredulously.
The cat encouraged the puppy to jump to his blue death; the waves beat mercilessly upon the shore.
He refused and tried to appeal to their common background; after all, weren’t they both just lost house pets?
She hissed and crept her way down to him, telling him to shut up and boxing his ears. It was looking a bit dire.
“Hey, ‘fraidy cat!" called Conan from further down. No way was he going to let some cat hurt his friend!
This distracted the cat just enough for Napoleon to push her off the ledge and into the basket waiting below.
She laughed maniacally as the impact of her fall dislodged the basket from the rocks and pulled her out into the bay.
Conan jeered.
From the ledge, Napoleon heard a howl. Looking up, he saw the spirit of a wild dog; and just as soon as it appeared, it was gone.
"I really am a wild dog, " he murmured in awe. But his awe soon drained; forlornly he watched his way home disappear, yowling into the night.
—
Morning came.
Conan questioned Napoleon's plan to get home, but the puppy had no idea what to do. He was very distraught.
Then Conan spotted something, approaching them from the water. A green sea turtle, with something … on its back?
It was Birdo!
Puppy and galah reunited, Napoleon agreed that his friend was right all along, and Birdo brought good news. He had found Napoleon a way home!
As Napoleon stood on the turtle’s back, letting it take him back to Sydney, he bid his friends goodbye, reminding them to come visit soon.
—
Running, running, running, Napoleon made his way home. His tail wagged like a propeller as he saw a familiar yard.
"Mum! Mum! Mum! Mummy!"
His mother, who had just a moment before had been slumped mournfully, stepped out of her dog house and began a full body wag. “Muffin? Is that you?!" She couldn’t believe her ears.
"Mum! Mummy!"
She scanned the yard, but could not see her baby.
"Mum!"
“Well come here!" she said desperately. "Come here! Let me put my paws around you!"
His little head peeked over the patio wall. "Mum! It's me! I’m back! You wouldn’t believe where I’ve been!" He put his front paws on top of the wall.
She spun around, unable to contain herself, held back by the rope attached to the doghouse. "Come here! You didn’t get hurt, did you? What happened to you!?"
Maddeningly, he came no closer. "What happened? Everything happened to me!"
"Careful! You can’t get over that wall!”
"Are you kidding? Piece of cake!" He leapt down, and ran to his mother, nearly smashing into her face out of sheer exuberance.
They jumped and tumbled and kissed joyfully, relief and love filling their hearts. Mother refused to let son out of her grasp and finally, the world was right again.
"Muffin, I want you to promise me you’ll never run away like that again."
"I won’t. And I want you to promise me something."
His mother laughed. "Anything darling, anything."
"I want you to call me Napoleon."
"From now on, you’re my Napoleon."
—
Nobody noticed the cat peering over the wall. "Ah, not a mouse. A dog! Dog must die!"
Napoleon Explanation
So this was a story that took me a long, long time. It’s definitely my longest adaption of film, tv or podcasts yet - and I hope it stays that way! The adaption ended up a little dry, but I feel that I was able to describe the events effectively, and utilize the dialogue (the hardest part to adapt) sparingly but appropriately. At the beginning of my transcription, I tried to avoid any dialogue at all, but oh well. This covers the entire movie, a movie without any books or scripts to help me avoid typing.
Last summer, 2023, I had the job of Lost Parents. That basically meant I’m the person lost children are brought to if the security guards can’t find their parents right away. Eventually, a security guard brings the guardians, or the guardians come themselves, and pick up the kid(s). Which is all fine and dandy, especially since I don’t have kids for most of the shift. Kids have stayed with me for over two hours, but usually they’re gone within half an hour and I’m rarely brought any in the mornings. So I get projects like these done!
The movie is on youtube (see link), so over several days I slowly worked through it and wrote out all relevant details into a notebook (I find writing easier if I start in a notebook and type it into a document later - if I just start on a document I never finish. Plus I wasn’t really supposed to have my phone out, and switching between apps is annoying). Then I typed it up - often via voice-to-text, unless I was recording dialogue. For some reason, the program does not recognize quotation marks very often. Then I fixed it up and whalla! What you see above is what I wrote!
But I didn’t finish editing it until after that summer, because I was more interested in drawing the pictures. In fact, drawing the title picture was the first thing I did!
To be honest, I often drew the title pictures well before anything else. They were easy.
This title picture was in reference to the old VHS cover I used to have for this movie. It’s an Australian movie, so they speak English, but for some reason they released an American dub and released it over here. So I’ve loved this movie ever since I could remember. But the balloon scenes were iconic, so of course I had to include it. Especially since I decided this adaption would only have four pictures total. As I wanted to save my labor for my more original projects, and because this was a movie, it has less pictures.
The second picture is Napoleon getting chased by the cat. It used to scare me as a kid, so I always had a clear picture of it in my head. Plus, it serves to contrast Napoleon’s bravery in later scenes.
The third picture is Napoleon saving Nancy. I basically just wanted to draw all the puppies and Napoleon being brave. So we ended up with that part!
Last is Napoleon and Pengy/Conan looking up at the wild dog spirit. It’s the least accurate picture, but one I felt fit well. In the movie, Napoleon and Pengy look up to see a wild dog on top of a cliff who gets swept away by mist. But considering that they were still up on the high parts of the cliff at the end of the fight, the timing and location doesn’t quite make sense. And drawing *lineart* of mist is hard with my style, and requires more texture than fits in line with my most recent coloring book drawings. Way back at the beginning, I used to add details like shading, lines of hair and such, but that gets in the way of coloring, so I stopped. As such, I adapted it to fit my needs. Now Napoleon and Pengy/Conan are in the shot (I wanted to include both), and the wild dog spirit is in the clods and stars! I’m decided that the storm went away.
The Pengy vs. Conan thing was something of which I struggled when writing the last part. I support chosen names, especially when the old names totally don’t fit anymore. Hell, Napoleon insists on being Napoleon right to the end! But I decided since this was basically from his viewpoint, he would not call the penguin Conan, not even in his head. For the rest of the movie, after all, he calls the penguin Pengy. So while this choice does not reflect my preferences, I think it does reflect Napoleon’s.
Last thought: the setting of this story is genuinely fantasy. I think the creators wanted to go for a pan-Australian vibe; so many different ecosystems from across the continent are shown in the film. This means, of course, that Napoleon went to a fantasy kind of island across from the city though. There is nowhere in Australia where ALL of those environments are present. If he truly walked the entirety of Australia, a continent, he would have been a grown dog well before the end of the movie. But since he is still a puppy by the end, that just means he went to a fantasy Australia. Which is kind of cool.
Hope you enjoyed, and please check the movie out!
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