Bruce, a deity in his own mind, proclaimed, “I had to yell at a Raccoon last night. He listened.”

Wolf, while playing in a field somewhere, laughed. “You mean someone actually listened to you for once? Shit, now I gotta call Guinness…”

Bruce was annoyed by this and retorted, “What, you need a beer just to listen to me…?”

And the Heavens proclaimed
‘…and a Raccoon shall lead them.’

“Ah” but Wolf replied, “No… I need a beer to listen to you. I need 5 beers before you start making sense.”

And the Heavens proclaimed
‘…and Wolf shall feast upon the Raccoon.’

Bruce declared from his celestial throne, “But at least I make sense at some point. Alcohol usually helps.”

And the Heavens proclaimed
‘…And so Wolf feasted upon the Raccoon, and it was good.’

Wolf looked up from his meal and remarked, “But it really doesn’t taste funny at all, like you said it would.”

Bruce bellowed from the Heavens, “That’s because you’re supposed to eat the clown, idiot.”

© 2010 R. Wolf Baldassarro/Deep Forest Productions