At 8:30 the next morning, Snoopy arrived at Hollywood Records' premium recording studio, nestled beside the Dolby Theatre in the Hollywood & Highland Center. The place was packed with tourists, just steps away from the Walk of Fame. But Snoopy wasn't the sightseeing type, he had no interest in squeezing through crowds for a glimpse of celebrity names on the sidewalk.
Ten minutes later, Miley Cyrus arrived , and, to everyone's surprise, she brought Snoopy breakfast. Including a batch of cookies she'd baked herself.
The staff exchanged knowing looks. Wasn't she just rumored to be dating that underwear model, Justin Gaston?
And now she was bringing home-baked cookies to this sports kid? Had her tastes changed?
When Snoopy took a bite of the heart-shaped cookie, his expression froze. A moment later, he quietly spat it into the trash and rinsed his mouth with bottled water.
Everyone in the room stared, dumbstruck. Did this kid just reject Miley Cyrus' handmade cookie to her face?
Snoopy sighed and said honestly,
"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. That's the most bitter cookie I've ever tasted."
For a second, Miley's face darkened. But when she saw how seriously he said it , completely earnest, she burst out laughing.
"Then what's the second most bitter cookie you've ever eaten?"
Snoopy picked up another one, licked it lightly, and deadpanned,
"This one."
Miley doubled over laughing.
"Oh my god! Are you always this funny?"
Snoopy replied solemnly,
"Not entirely."
That only made her laugh harder.
Uncle Mike gave Snoopy a discreet thumbs-up from the side.
"You, my friend, might be the only man outside the rock scene who can keep a straight face while making women laugh like that. Maybe you should front a metal band someday."
Snoopy began to suspect everyone in the California music industry was at least a little insane.
At least, he thought, they were professional lunatics.
The session started at 9 a.m., and by 4:20 p.m., the song was completely recorded.
After spending nearly the whole day together, Miley and Snoopy had grown unexpectedly comfortable with each other , locked away in the same recording room for hours will do that.
They swapped numbers, chatted about favorite movies, and eventually, family.
That last part came from Miley herself. She said Snoopy reminded her of her father, "a talented singer and actor." Snoopy smiled and replied,
"My mother's a singer too."
That sent them spiraling into a long, meandering talk about growing up surrounded by music.
Outside the booth, producer Donaldson rubbed his temples. I'm here to make records, not listen to two kids discuss ukuleles and broken eggs on pianos…
By 4:20, whether because they'd nailed the song or because the producer couldn't take another minute of their small talk, the session was officially done.
They were free, and so was Donaldson.
Afterward, Miley suggested dinner. Snoopy hesitated, then agreed. But when they arrived at the restaurant, he realized it wasn't a quiet dinner for two, it was a six-person party.
"Let me introduce you," Miley said brightly, holding Snoopy's hand.
"This is my very, very, very good male friend, Snoopy. UCLA Bruins starting point guard, Anderson School scholar, and the songwriter who just recorded our duet."
Her tone might've stressed friend, but even Snoopy could tell she was hinting at more.
"And these three," she continued, "are the famous Jonas Brothers , Kevin, Joe, and Nick. Oh, and this is my bestie, Selena Gomez, she's the one who taught me how to make those cookies!"
Snoopy immediately understood the situation. Smart as he was, it didn't take long to realize he'd been brought here as a prop, a pawn in Miley's little revenge plot against her ex.
He'd heard of the Jonas Brothers, of course , the hottest boy band in America, recently signed to Hollywood Records. Their debut album had already cracked Billboard's Top 5.
Looking at the three of them, Snoopy couldn't help but think, so these are basically the American BTS.
He didn't even know why that thought popped into his head, or what "BTS" exactly meant. Ever since that car accident with Jennifer, his brain sometimes spat out strange, random ideas from nowhere.
"Nice to meet you," said Kevin Jonas, extending a hand.
Snoopy shook hands with each of them in turn , until he reached Nick Jonas.
Nick gripped harder than necessary, trying to assert dominance.
But he clearly forgot who Snoopy was.
Snoopy gave a small twist , barely a fraction of the force he used on the court.
"Ah!"
Nick yelped before he could stop himself.
Selena immediately leaned over in concern. "Nick, are you okay?"
Nick forced a grin. "I'm fine. Totally fine."
Snoopy smiled faintly , then, for good measure, gave one last playful squeeze. Nick's face twitched again.
It was all Snoopy could do not to laugh. He finally released the handshake and sat down, satisfied.
Across the table, Miley leaned in and whispered,
"Nice job."
Snoopy shot her an exasperated look, but the triumphant smirk on her lips said it all.
So that's what this dinner's about, he thought. I'm a decoy in a pop-star love triangle.
He started quietly planning an excuse to leave before things got messier. The last thing he wanted was to end up as tabloid fodder.
Then.
Brrring! Brrring!
His phone rang. It was Russell Westbrook.
He answered, and Russell's frantic voice came through:
"Snoopy! Bad news, something big just happened!"