A short poem about a nasty wolf/werewolf who likes to imbibe |
THE BIG BAD WOLF Jack the alpha male woke up with such a hangover, He could not remember who had been over. His breath smelled like day old socks and his blood shot eyes tearing, He knew this day would not be so endearing. His den mate snarled and let out such a terrible howl, Now Jack feared the worst would be nearing. It happens that earlier in the day, the two had been out to play, and had stopped at the tavern at Geering. When they had entered the door, the smells within shook them to the core. The spittoon stank, the body odors rank, and cigarettes were strewn on the floor. One lone wolf shuffled to the juke box feeding coins in the slot and returned to the bar for a shot. Jack's blood ran cold as the song issued forth, "Hey there little red riding hood, you sure are looking good, You're everything that a big bad wolf would want.'' Jack glanced over at the newspaper lying on the bar, and choked on his bitters and beer. He knew that of all his problems, this was the most to fear. The headline read; "Early this morning the eviscerated body of red riding hood was found at 1600 Pennysylvania Ave. Washington, DC. Her partially eaten body was covered in maggots and magpies, Said Jack, I'll have another beer. |