In the dying days of World War II Hitler

In the dying days of World War II Hitler sat in his bunker eating a boiled egg. Suddenly a time traveller appeared from nowhere and pointed a gun at him "Hitler", he said "My name

is Slim Shady." The Fuhrer looked up, incredulous. Crumbs of the yolk clung to his mustache bristles. He chewed deliberately. The Fuhrer's foot shot out and kicked Eminem's gun out

The holster, then shot himself in the mouth. His foot howled and the wolves ate it. Eminem was inspired to write a new song some 3-1/2 years later. By then, he was blasted by phemy

throwing shade for R. Kelly and Chris Brown. The wolves, not having eaten another foot since then, were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. The gunshot to the face had left a

trail of blood tricking down the wolf's face. They stood at the base of the tree, watching his shoe and waiting for the right moment to strike. The wolves' stomaches growled.

One of the wolves mistook the growling stomachs for growling wolf mouths, and took offense. A horrific canine Donnybrooke followed. He watched silently from his perch in the tree

snickering. He'd always been sort of jealous of the wolves acute hearing, but in this case their hearing wasn't so helpful. One of the wolves below heard him. Come down from there

was the gist of what the wolf said to him. See, the wolves didn't really appreciate the peanut gallery eavesdropping on the wolf synchronized skating rehearsals on the ice pond.

Just because wolves can't whisper per se doesn't mean you people can just stand around eavesdropping on our skating rehearsals. Maybe it's a cultural difference, but boundaries are

boundaries & you should…respect…our…wo-wo-wo-WO! Momentarily distracted, the wolf fell flat on his ass on the ice. Little Red Riding Hood skated by, her basket of goodies now safe.