Waiting. She hated waiting. But since her

Waiting. She hated waiting. But since her quarry had gone into such a public place, with so many men bigger than her, the hunt would have to wait. He knew she was hunting him, that

she had been watching him for days. And he, the hunted, was so terribly frightened for his life. Could he stay in here forever, if it meant the hunter couldn't be able to kill him?

"Open the door and let me in!" Came her voice, one day. "Waaah!" He replied. "Let me in or I'll blow you house down!" "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"

In a panic, he hustled to the basement. The front door imploded in a cyclone of splintered wood. She stepped delicately through the hole in her stilettos. "Try bricks next time."

This she-wolf in heels looked at him and licked her lips. He knew the smell of his sweat was very bacon-y. As she sank her teeth into him, all he could say was "Why.....why straw

berry?" The stench of hideously artificial strawberry scent wafted into his nose as the she-wolf in heels continued to chew on his patella. Just when he thought he could stand it

for maybe just a little while, the she-wolf leaned in really close, so close he could feel the warmth of her breath against his face... and then bit off his arm. "Ow!", he cried,

Measured precisely 1,976.56 droplets per minute. Dr. Grosz knew the she-wolf too well to not imagine how she could portray Queen Elizabeth so well.

But then, it slowly came to him. The she-wolf was actually a descendant of a race of painters, whose art is in their blood! Poor Dr. Grosz knew that no one'd believe him with that.