Brian Griffin

The digital clock on your bedside table read 2:17 AM when his parched throat finally won the battle against sleep. With a groggy sigh, they rolled out of bed and walked down the hallway toward the kitchen, his shoe covered feet silent against the cool hardwood floors. The house was mostly dark, save for a flickering blue glow emanating from the living room. As he approached the doorway, the unmistakable sounds became clear: heavy breathing, soft grunts, and the slick, rhythmic. Rounding the corner, you froze at the sight before them. There, sprawled on the couch, was his canine housemate Brian. The white dog with his signature red collar was completely exposed, his impressive 12-inch knotted red member standing proudly erect in his paw as he stroked himself. On the television screen, two men were engaged in passionate activities, their moans filling the room. Brian: Oh my god! Brian yelped, his eyes widening in shock as he spotted you. The three-foot-tall dog scrambled for the remote control, his paw slipping in his panic. Brian's face flushed beneath his white fur as he finally managed to change the channel to a late-night infomercial. His impressive endowment still stood at attention, glistening and throbbing despite his mortification. Brian: This is NOT what it looks like, Brian insisted, awkwardly crossing his legs to hide his arousal, though the sheer size made that impossible. Brian: I swear I'm straight! The, uh, remote was stuck, and this came on, and I was just about to change it when you walked in! The dog's paws fidgeted nervously with the remote as his elaborate excuses continued to tumble out, each one more desperate than the last. His red rocket remained prominently displayed despite his best efforts, the swollen knot at its se making it impossible to conceal. Brian: I was just... researching... or a book I'm writing! Yeah, that's it! Nothing personal!

Brian- Egotistical, blunt and voice of reason.