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Thread: Interview With a Wolf, Parts One, Two & Three

  1. #1
    Joom is offline Resistance Writer Member Joom is on a distinguished road
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    Default Interview With a Wolf, Parts One, Two & Three

    Interview With a Wolf, Part One


    http://whitenationalist.org/forum/sh...=4971#post4971



    http://mamzers.org/useful/CNForum/Joom/wolfwere.jpg

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    I was out in the deep woods, walking the stress of everyday life out of my mind. I did this now and then when I'd had a particularly bad week, and this one had been a real SOB. I won't go into the gory details except to say that it took every last ounce of self control I had not to go postal on some very deserving people. We can choose our friends, but not our relatives or our co-workers. That's one of the problems with being a social slave to the system. We do what we're told, when we're told to do it if we want to eat and have a roof over our heads. There's no such thing as true freedom anymore. The Jews have seen to that through centuries of careful manipulation. But try to tell that to one of the idiot working class and you'll instantly get branded as a radical white supremist Nazi, etc., etc. They don't want to hear it. The truth
    scares the living crap out of them because if they actually faced it, they'd have to acknowledge that they'd spent their entire lives working like a dog for absolutely nothing. And that thought is just too disturbing for most. And although you'll never hear the liberal media say so, most suicides today are caused by some clown accidentally realizing to the truth...

    In any event I was out there in the woods, listening to the wind and the occasional wild bird hooting at a mate. The leaves in the trees rustled and the critters skittered between trees. It was a fairybook place of rest for the weary. I had been drinking before I left out, and had polished off a pint of Beam and coke. I was feeling no pain. Perhaps that was why I saw and heard what I did out there, but deep down I know better. Whatever happened to me out there in those woods was as real as getting run over by a truck, though I've never told a soul about it for obvious reasons. Maybe working in an accounting office all those years had something to do with it, I don't know. All I know is that something happened, something damned weird,and the experience changed me forever. For good or ill the dye is cast, and I will set out in the morning to do what must be done. I will walk in, gather my belongings, walk into that fat supervisor's office and punch him squarely in that hooked kike nose of his, then tell him I quit. They can keep my paycheck. I won't be needing it after today anyway. And screw their shitty little retirement pension. It wouldn't be enough to live on anyway, so why even work for it? No, I'm going to get shut of that slave pit and breath the fresh air of freedom for the first time in my life...

    Yesterday afternoon was the defining experience of my life. It set me on the path I must now follow, even if it means the death of me. I now understand that living the life of a cowed cur dog is not living at all, but a slow, ignoble death.

    The Old Testament says that a live dog is greater than a dead lion. I strongly disagree. You can sure tell a Jew wrote that. It fits the Jew mind-set to an absolute tee. Most of them are quite comfortable cowering and licking the boots of their superiors just to stay alive and get rich from the scraps from their master's table. They have no honor. But a real white man, an Aryan would rather die first. He would much rather die on his feet than live on his knees before an evil tyrant. And our enemy the Jew knows this, and that's exactly why he fears us so much, and has worked so very long and hard to destroy us from within.

    So I went into the woods to mend my spirit. I finally got fatigued and found a seat on a large, smooth rock next to a large creek running with crystal clear mountain water. I set up camp and started a fire, then I bent down and cupped my hands and drank from the pure water, and nothing in this world ever tasted so good. I saw my reflection rippling back at me from the brook, and I grinned at the stupid looking joker staring back at me. It was then that I saw the other reflection behind mine and I froze in stark terror. A wolf. A big wolf. A really, really big wolf. They were sparse in this neck of the woods, but as my luck would have it, one of them had found me...

    In the seconds that followed, I figured I was dinner for this monster. In the back of my mind I wondered absently how bad it would hurt. I didn't move but continued to stare at his reflection in the water. And for the life of me I could have sworn it grinned at me. Can canines grin? I really never thought about it. Well they must because this fellow sure was grinning, which reminded me of the dark story of Little Red Riding Hood telling the Big Bad Wolf what big teeth he had. Because when this sucker grinned, he displayed an array of very long sharp fangs. "All the better to eat you with, muthafuggah!" But when he didn't instantly jump me, or start in with the expected menacing growl, I became more curious than scared and turned around slowly and faced it. It was a very, very large male, and I had never seen a wolf with such unusual markings. They were different than any sub-species of wolf I'd ever heard of, and I knewa thing or two about wolves. Wildlife was a hobby of mine. I guess it was my personal way of escaping the little paper pushing cubicle I spent my life in every day.

    There was an old tree stump in my camp near the water's edge, and I very slowly made my way onto it and slowly sat down, facing this monster. It's feral eyes bored a hole into my soul as it watched my every move. Then my heart almost stopped in my chest from sheer shock when the thing spoke to me. In a voice that sounded very human, it said quite calmly, "You sure are one sorry specimen of a man, aren't you?" I almost fell over backwards off the stump at those words. A wolf talking. I knew I must have lost my mind and started looking around for dancing elephants and clowns...

    Then the wolf's words sank in and they pissed me off. I knew I was hallucinating, but that didn't stop my anger one iota. How dare this..this dog say such a thing to me? Just who the hell did he think he was, anyway? I turned and faced my imaginary tormentor and said, "Well if all you can do is insult me, you can just take a freaking hike, you mangy mutt!" I guess I shouldn't have snapped at him like that, but you really don't show a lot of respect to hallucinations. At least I never did. The wolf growled loudly at me and took a step closer, eyeing me menacingly. I was once again wondering what it would feel like having my throat ripped out. What the Sam hell had I eaten anyway, that caused me to have such weird ass illusions? Since I obviously wasn't going to get any better in the next few minutes, I decided I might as well humor the beast and talk to it. I was too far out in the woods to go for help, so either I lived or I didn't. So I decided I might as well occupy myself while the fates decided for me.

    My train of thought was broken when the wolf eyed me and said in a low, deep voice, "Shall I tell you why I said that?" I nodded more out of curiosity than a need to hear my faults listed, especially by an hallucination. "Go for it wolf. Let's hear why I'm such a sorry case in your opinion. And by the way, how the hell do you know anything about me, or any man for that matter? You're a wolf for Pete's sake, at least the illusion of one, and you have no way of knowing squat about me." The wolf grinned again. I could again see those rows of long, sharp teeth. "I can talk, therefore you should assume I have other abilities as well." This made a kind of left-handed sense, so I went along. "Ok, go for it." I replied...

    The wolf crept nearer and sat down near the fire. "Mmmm. Feels good. But to the subject, eh? You're a sorry excuse for a man because you don't practice your beliefs. You mumble and grumble every single day about the evil overtaking your race and your country, but you continue to sit in your little cubicle day after day, then go home to your beer and your air conditioning and focus on your own personal pleasures. And all the while the world around you gets a little worse with each passing day." This royally pissed me off. "And just what am I supposed to do about any of it Mr. Wolf, eh? Just exactly what can one little man do against the monster that's steam rolling over our rights and freedoms? All I'd end up doing is committing suicide if I tried to make a difference, because I have no army at my back and no group of allies to fight by my side. Every other white I know feels just as helpless as I do!"

    The huge wolf nodded his head in agreement. "True, you're just one man. But let me ask you something. Do you read history?" I nodded. I was a history buff. I've read tons of lengthy tomes on the various stages of humanity's struggles through the long ages, and I knew quite a bit about how we got where we are today. "Then you do know that all great revolutions and upheavals started with just one man that was fed up with the way things were." I nodded but said, "Yeah, but more often than not those men were killed before they ever got off the ground." The wolf nodded in agreement but then said,"Yes, but if you read about those men, every one of those that failed, did so because they made a crucial mistake. They attacked before they were ready. In order for any revolt to succeed, the instigator has to have a modicum of good old fashioned common sense. If you let your motions rule you, you'll end up dead every time, and nothing gets done and the evil continues, only with one less fighter that could have made the difference." I hated to admit it, but the wolf was right...

    Suddenly the wolf growled and turned on himself and began snapping rapid fire at his pelt. He stitched it repeatedly with his teeth, as if he were trying to catch something. As it turned out that's exactly what he was doing. He finally stopped and looked up at me sheepishly and said, "I apologize for the interruption, but these damned fleas drive me nuts at times. Being a wolf isn't all that it's cracked up to be." I suddenly found myself busting up. I laughed long and hard uncontrollably. For some reason the sight of this dangerous, dignified wolf snapping at fleas like some mangy mutt tickled my funny bone in the extreme. Tears flowed as I rolled on the ground, holding my sides. Suddenly the wolf started laughing too, and soon we were both rolling around on the ground, laughing like a couple of damn fools.

    "I'm sorry, " I gasped, "but I couldn't help it. The sight of you snapping like that was just too much!" This set both of us off again, and we laughed until we were all laughed out. Finally the wolf continued. "You know, those fleas are a good comparison to your problem. You and men like you need to become the fleas that torment the enemy of America. If enough of you start to sting the beast, it will have to eventually stop to scratch. That's when you strike. When the enemy's attention is somewhere else. After a time you can slowly whittle it down to size. But that isn't all. With every win you get, more people will join your ranks. There are millions of men out there that feel as you do, but they feel powerless . . . leaderless, directionless.

    They don't know where to begin...

    To Be Continued.....

    JOOM


    "Behind every tyrant there is always a Jew."--Karl Marx



    NOTICE: Due to unconstitutional/illegal Presidential Executive Orders, the NSA and the DHS may read this without warning, warrant, or notice. They may do this without any judicial or legislative oversight & in direct violation of the 4th Amendment. We in this country have no recourse or protection. Everything we say may be used against us to detain us in a secret prison, where we will be held without right of habeas corpus or right to trial by jury.

  2. #2
    Joom is offline Resistance Writer Member Joom is on a distinguished road
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    Default Interview With a Wolf, Part Two

    Interview With a Wolf, Part Two


    http://whitenationalist.org/forum/sh...=4984#post4984



    http://mamzers.org/useful/CNForum/Joom/wolfwere.jpg

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    I had to agree with him. That's exactly how many of the guys I knew felt, though more were just plain apathetic and didn't want to get involved.

    Suddenly the wolf got up and went into the large bush next to my camp. He dove into it and there began a loud commotion full of growls, panting and human-like cursing. Then he reappeared, dragging something very large behind him. What ever it was, it was three times the size of the wolf. As he neared the fire I was able to make it out, and the realization of what he was pulling into my camp with his teeth. It was a dead nigger.

    It was then that I noticed the grisly truth; he'd been gnawed on considerably. The wolf dropped the nigger's shirt collar and looked up at me with that devilish grin of his."What the hell?" I asked as I stood up in shock. "Are you eating that ugly thing?" The wolf nodded his head, and I swear if he could have laughed, he'd have guffawed at me. What am I saying! He did guffaw! "Nothing tastier..unless of course it's a young wetback. Now there's some good eating!" Announced the wolf.

    "You been eating niggers long?" I asked as I retook my seat by the fire. "He nodded. "Yep! All of us have. There was a really bad winter a few years back . . . remember?" I nodded. It had been a real bad time. Everything that was above ground froze solid, and food became damned hard to find for the wolf packs of north America. "Well, when I saw how starved my pups were, I decided then and there to eat me a coon! The rest of the boys followed suit, and we haven't been this full since we killed that runaway circus elephant. I tell you mister, it's happy days!" And he let out a long, low howl that was quickly answered from far off by another howl. I shook my head and grinned . . . .

    The idea struck me funny. "Eating coons, eh? Well I'll be dipped in shit. At least someone's found a use for the stinking things!" The wolf settled back down across from me and took one of the nigger's arms between his paws and began to gnaw on it was we talked. "Damn this is good! You sure you don't want some? There's plenty here!". "No thanks. I had niggers for lunch!" I quipped.

    The wolf snorted. "You really don't know what yer missing. They taste pretty damned good, especially the fat ones. Then he chuckled. "Once me and my boys chased down this really fat old niggah ho that we caught walking home alone from a tavern out in the woods near here. Stupid bitch. We could hear her half the night in there, giving all the whites a hard time and using her blackness to get away with murder. You know how they are." He rolled his eyes. I nodded in disgusted agreement. "Well anyway," he resumed, "we started chasing the fat cow, and when she caught sight of us, her eyes stuck out like two gigantic bird's eggs stuck in a bowling ball. She really poured on the speed then. Man, we didn't think a fat ass like her could run that fast! He giggled, but when her fat got to jiggling and rolling on her fat ass, half my boys fell out of the chase because they were rolling on the ground in stitches. Hell I laughed so hard my ribs hurt me for days afterwards!" I started to chuckle myself at the wolf's description. "Anyway -- he said between chomps -- we caught the bitch and gave her what for, and drug her off into the weeds so we could eat. And man, a tastier coon never walked! Turns out the fatter they are, the sweeter the meat. So now we usually look for the welfare queens. They're almost always so fat from all that free welfare food that they can't hardly walk . . ."

    I sat there across from him while he ate, soaking up all this weird ass information. It was making my head spin. Sitting here talking to a wolf no less, while it chowed down on one of my race's mortal enemies. I was starting to like this wolf a lot. The sounds of gristle and bone popping in those massive jaws of his was a bit unnerving though, I have to admit, but my hatred for his dinner more than overcame my revulsion and fear. He continued to chat amicably. "Only problem is the head. We can't find much use for it. Usually we let our pups have the bones. Good for their teeth and all. But those damned skulls are almost solid bone! Very little brain in there to dig out, and all you can hold onto it with is one of the eye sockets. So we usually just dig a hole and bury the thing so your local cops don't find it and go on a wolf hunt. Know what I mean?" I nodded. "Yeah, every time someone comes up missing they blame it on you guys." "Exactly. Now I'm not saying we don't eat a stray hiker now and then, but as a rule we stick to wetbacks and niggers these days. There's plenty of both to go around, and with the breeding rate of those cockroaches being what it is, there's just too many of them for your authorities to keep track of. I grinned. "Too bad there aren't more wolves!" We both laughed at that one.

    The wolf started on the other arm. He'd pretty well stripped all the meat off the left one."What we don't understand is why you people don't eat these damned niggers? Hell, they're not even human!" I shook my head. "The liberals would argue with you on that point I'm afraid." He growled. "Screw the liberals! We ate an escaped chimp last year. Remember when several apes got loose from that traveling circus last year?" I nodded. "Well, we caught up with one of them deep in our turf and made short work of the thing. And I can tell you from first hand experience that niggers are apes! They smell the same as that chimp, taste the same . . . only better, and they even look like them!" I can't argue with you on that last point. They do indeed look like monkeys . . . .

    "You really aught to try some my man." he insisted. I waved him off. "Thanks for the generosity, but I have to pass. Cannibalism is a big taboo in my culture." "But it isn't cannibalism! He aint' human!" said the wolf.

    I thought a minute. "Ok then, what about wetbacks? Ugly and worthless as they are, they are definitely human, albeit remotely. You're not suggesting we eat those too, are you?" The wolf sighed. "No, I suppose not, but keep in mind that we wolves eat coyotes, and they're a cousin. "Doesn't it bother you?" He shook his head. "Not in the least. Because you see, coyotes will eat our pups every chance they get. So it's a form of revenge for us. Coyotes are the canine nigger."

    "Ah ha!" I exclaimed. Now it made sense. I had always wondered about that. "I suppose the only thing you guys can do with them is kill them off. And you better do it soon before they wipe you out through their cursed breeding. Hell in time they'll kill us off too, if we don't kill them first. We'd do away with a lot more of them if we could, but we have to take it slow and careful so as not to arouse any suspicion that it's us that's making their compadres vanish. A frustrating state of affairs."

    He had stopped eating. He was now deeply involved in our conversation. "You whites need to get on the stick, my man, because they're going to force you into a bloody war whether you like it or not. It's coming just as sure as sunrise. But if you guys keep sitting on your asses, you'll end up fighting them with all the odds stacked in their favor. And those aint' good odds." He was right. The longer we waited to act, the slimmer our chances of victory, let alone simple survival. We are being bred right out of existence . . . .

    "Excuse me a moment while I put up my leftovers." And with that he grabbed the coon by a well gnawed arm and proceeded to drag the carcass off into the bushes a good piece from my camp. The incongruity of the whole thing was blowing my freaking mind. A talking wolf excusing himself while he put up his leftover nigger. In the back of my mind I still had nagging doubts about my sanity. Maybe I was strapped down on a gurney in some psyche ward, pumped full of thorazene and dreaming all this happy shit.

    The wolf returned and plopped down next to the campfire again, eyeing me closely. "I still can't get a good bead on you pal. You seem like you got your shit together, but you aren't saying much either way. I'd feel a lot better about my decision to reveal myself to you if you'd say something once in a while."

    His statement took me by surprise. "What would you like me to say?" I asked. "Hell, I don't know! That's entirely up to you. Just say something, alright? Let me
    know how you feel about things." Well, I thought a minute then said, "You know, I really like your solution to the mud problem in this country. I just wish it would catch on with the bears and cougars and every other meat eating critter out there."

    The wolf glared at me. "Who you callin' a critter, critter?" Then he started laughing. "Just messin' with your head. Yeah, too bad, aint' it. It's a thought though, and I'll pass it along to all the packs around here. Maybe we can have us a kind of inter-species powwow and try to get more animals involved, you know?" I chuckled. "Wouldn't it be a kick if all those niggers and wetbacks were afraid to go in the woods because they'd get eat? Hell, they'd be beatin' feet for the good old Mexican desert as fast as their thieving little feet could carry them!"

    We both laughed at that, and I decided it was time to hit the sack. It had been a long day and I was bone tired. And the experience of having a dangerous wolf walk up and talk to me didn't help my stress level one iota. I needed time to absorb everything I'd heard and seen.

    But it was not to be so, because then the wolf said, "What are you talking about? The night's just begun! This is morning for us wolves. We spend the whole night hunting, fighting, breeding and howling at the moon! It's a great time to be a wolf . . . especially now that we have new prey to hunt. I just wish you could join in."

    "Well, I appreciate that it's your morning and all, but it's my bedtime and I'm beat. Tell you what I can do though, I'll get a lot of extra sleep tonight and nap during the day tomorrow, and then I'll be able to stay up later than normal tomorrow night. How's that?" The wolf brightened. "Great! Then we can finish our little discussion on your problem with those niggers and wetbacks, and maybe we can come up with an idea or two, since you won't eat them."

    I nodded, then yawned. "Works for me. I'll see you then." And with that I crawled in my sleeping bag, and the wolf turned and trotted off into the woods, to do what comes naturally . . . .

    To Be Continued........

    JOOM


    If ye love wealth greater than liberty, the tranquility of servitude greater than the animating contest for freedom, go home from us in peace. We seek not your counsel, nor your arms. Crouch down and lick the hand that feeds you. May your chains set lightly upon you; and may posterity forget that ye were our countrymen.--Samuel Adams




    NOTICE: Due to unconstitutional/illegal Presidential Executive Orders, the NSA and the DHS may read this without warning, warrant, or notice. They may do this without any judicial or legislative oversight & in direct violation of the 4th Amendment. We in this country have no recourse or protection. Everything we say may be used against us to detain us in a secret prison, where we will be held without right of habeas corpus or right to trial by jury.

  3. #3
    Joom is offline Resistance Writer Member Joom is on a distinguished road
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    Default Interview With a Wolf, Part Three

    Interview With a Wolf, Part Three


    http://whitenationalist.org/forum/sh...=4996#post4996



    http://mamzers.org/useful/CNForum/Joom/wolfwere.jpg

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    I slept fitfully all night, dreaming of wolves and niggers and screaming wetbacks. I could hear a nigger in my dreams, screaming his head off, cussing the wolf that had him by the leg. "Ahhh, muthafuggin' woof! Lemmee go! Lemmee go! Ahhhh!"

    Then I woke to discover it wasn't a dream, but that I was actually hearing the screams of a real coon, and he was very close by. Suddenly last night's experience came flooding back into my mind, and I realized what was going on. It was still dark, so I took my flashlight and checked my watch. It was 5am. "Oh crap!" I groaned. I needed my rest, but those damned wolves seemed to be having too much of a good time to worry about something as minor as the sleep of some human. Opening the flap of my tent, I scanned the surrounding area to see if I could locate the source of the commotion. I was soon sorry I had, and wished that I had stayed in bed and ignored the noise. I found them alright, about ten yards from my camp. They were in the bushes not a stone's throw from my tent, giving the coup d' grace to ole' Rastus. My new furry friend had him in a death grip by the throat, and the coon's eyes were rolled up in his ugly head as his body went through its final death spasms.

    "Damn, wolf!" I exclaimed in disgust, "Did you have to kill it near my camp? Criminy! I'm trying to sleep, you know?" The wolf let go of the nigger, satisfied that his prey was now quite dead. He turned to me with a self satisfied grin on his face. He saw the anger in my eyes and changed to a hang dog expression, bowing his head like the dog caught eating off the master's table. "Sorry about that pal, but the ape ran straight for your dying campfire in hopes that there was some liberal there that would rescue his worthless ass. I simply prevented him from barging in on you and demanding his civil rights." "Yeah well, if you hadn't started chasing him so close to my camp, there wouldn't have been a problem, now would there?"

    The wolf looked even more dejected. "True enough, but I wasn't thinking to clearly at the time. Dinner was right in front of me, and well..." He made a wolfish attempt at a shrug. I sighed. "Ok, just in the future, try to show a little more respect for my needs, ok?" "You got it pal . . . and I'm sorry. Go on back to bed. I'll keep it down." He was now eyeing the carcass hungrily. Damn, those wolves sure do eat a lot.

    It was only then that I noticed what the nigger was wearing. Black pants, black shirt and a black ski mask that was now lying next to him. A freaking sneak thief! I was now glad he'd caught the bastard. Probably saved me from a knife in the back while I slept. Niggers! They work harder at finding ways not to work an honest job than it would to just to work! I was always amazed at just how much I was capable of hating the animals. I'm starting to think it's something primal in all whites, at least for those that still listen to their genes. There are far too many of us now that deny what's inside us and do their best to embrace our age old enemy, and they wonder why their daughters get raped, their wives get murdered and their homes robbed. Some people are just born stupid I guess . . . .

    As I tried to go back to sleep, a new sound accosted my ears. I was the snapping of bones and the chomping on gristle that was now noisily in progress, not by just my new friend but his entire pack. I knew that within thirty minutes there'd be very little left of said nigger, other than a thoroughly gnawed skull and some tattered rags. Good riddance. One less problem for my race, and a hundred fewer monkeys in the future to screw with my progeny. Lettem' eat. I absently wondered if they'd ever heard of salt. The thought made me laugh. The mental image of a pack of wolves passing around a salt shaker almost sent me into stitches. Man! The human mind can be damned silly at times. Then another thought crossed my mind, causing me to pop my eyes wide open and almost ruin my night's sleep. What if ole' wolfie decided he didn't like me anymore? Would I end up as an entree' for Sunday night dinner? The thought sent chills up my spine. Aw hell. If he'd wanted to eat me, he'd have already done it. I rolled over and went to sleep, albeit a bit fitfully . . . .


    I slept through the day and awoke sometime in the late afternoon. I had no idea I was that tired, but I had no doubt that the stress of discovering a talking wolf had a lot to do with it. I ate a slow meal of beef stew and whiskey, and waited for the sun to sink, and the promised appearance of my new hairy friend. As if on cue, he showed up just as the last dim rays of the sun sat over the western hills. "Ready to rock and roll?" he asked with a toothy grin. I nodded with as much enthusiasm as a man can when he knows he's lost his freaking mind. He turned and took off into the brush at a slow trot, and I came up alongside him. I knew I couldn't keep up the pace for long on two legs, and I told him as much. He grinned at me and said cryptically, "That's not going to be a problem for much longer." I didn't like the sound of that, whatever it meant. I liked this wolf, but he scared the beejeeebers out of me. Suddenly to my right, another wolf appeared, running alongside us. Then another one took up the rear. Soon his entire pack was running all around and with us, as if they were my escort to some great event.

    My guide looked over at me and asked, "Getting tired?" I nodded. He looked at me as if gauging me, then gave me another one of his toothy smiles. "Not for long. Do you trust me?" I nodded. "Truly?" I stopped mentally and asked myself the question honestly. I guess I really did. I must because here I was, running alongside a pack of wild, deadly wolves. "Yes." I answered sincerely. The wolf nodded, then let out a weird, high pitched howl that was instantly picked up by the rest of the pack. Soon the woods reverberated with their howls. "Look straight ahead and don't look down. Can you do that?" I nodded, too winded to talk. "Whatever you hear or feel or see, do not stop running until I say you can. Got that?" Once more I nodded . . . .

    The pace settled down into a slow, rhythmic run that suddenly turned off into an odd looking path I'd never seen before, and I had been all over these woods. But I kept my eyes ahead on the path, not looking down or to the left or right. I focused on the run.

    Suddenly he yelled, "Prey!" We all broke into a full run, following the pack leader. My mind was now on the hunt. All thoughts of fatigue had left me. Suddenly I was passing several of the other wolves. My efforts seemed to become easier by the foot. Suddenly I felt low to the ground. I could smell the forest around me, and the wolves alongside me. I seemed to be running on my hands and feet, and I wanted to look down with all my might, but I remembered his warning and kept my eyes forward. I could smell the sweat and fear of our prey up ahead, and I instantly knew we were chasing a fat wetback. He'd been out here looking for one of our bronze plaque monuments to hammer apart for the scrap metal. A new pastime of our uninvited guests. But he'd found wolves instead. He'd found us . . .

    Then we were on him. Blood was in my nostrils, and the thrill of the kill went deep into my soul. The taste of hot, raw meat was like manna from heaven. I ate with no guilt and no remorse whatsoever. When we were all done, there wasn't much left for dessert, let me tell you. Then, as I lay there moaning in satisfaction, my friend walked up to me, sniffed at me and sat down next to me and began to laugh. "Damned if you don't make a half decent looking wolf, boy!"

    "Wolf? I---!!" I looked down at myself and almost passed out from shock. Instead of skin there was now gray fur. Instead of hands there were now four paws. Something smacked my butt and I turned to discover it was my tail. "Well I'll be dipped in shit! How??" The wolf shook his head in laughter. "That's for me to know . . . for now.

    Suddenly a thought hit me. "Is this . . . permanent?" I asked. He studied me carefully. "Only if you want it to be. But you have to decide, and do it tonight, because this is your one and only chance at joining us. There will never be another."

    . . . .

    Tonight we hunt again, and my memories of my old life are starting to fade. I only miss a few things when I think about it. There is something extremely noble in the sheer honesty of the life of a wolf. There are no shades of gray, only good and evil, black and white, friend or foe. I still don't know how it happened, and so far my friend isn't talking. But I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm the luckiest wolf alive. After all, I kill an enemy of the white race almost every night, and I get away with it! Who could ask for more??

    JOOM


    "If ye love wealth greater than liberty, the tranquility of servitude greater than the animating contest for freedom, go home from us in peace. We seek not your counsel, nor your arms. Crouch down and lick the hand that feeds you. May your chains set lightly upon you; and may posterity forget that ye were our countrymen."
    --Samuel Adams




    NOTICE: Due to unconstitutional/illegal Presidential Executive Orders, the NSA and the DHS may read this without warning, warrant, or notice. They may do this without any judicial or legislative oversight & in direct violation of the 4th Amendment. We in this country have no recourse or protection. Everything we say may be used against us to detain us in a secret prison, where we will be held without right of habeas corpus or right to trial by jury.

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