Seven Days to the Wolves

[Rakuen Growlithe]

Seven Days To The Wolves
By: Rakuen Growlithe

AN: This is a collection of short little paragraphs intended to cause amusement. Those without a sense of humour will not find enjoyment in this. Those who do are warned not to die laughing. The end of your life is a serious event and should not be taken lightly... unless you die in a burning building.
Thank you to my sister for betaing.

Tommy was sitting quietly at his desk, staring at his homework and longing to be with his beloved dog. Suddenly there was no new sound, due to the fantastic safety of ABS breaks stopping the dramatic screech of tires, followed by a muffled yelp that was overlooked by all who heard it. The driver then sped off as silently as he had collided with Tommy's dog, no one alerted to what had happened. Later Tommy would discover the dead dog and take his own life in a fit of overwhelming grief which luckily has no relation to this story and so we move to the real start in a parallel universe where animals reign supreme and walk on two legs, as our human-biased brains deem more advanced.

WHOOOOOSH!!! Yes, whoosh is the sound made by inter-dimensional travel. And you can't reach other dimensions through black holes which are merely take-off points for flights of fancy. Memes keep laughing at us every time we try fly through an exhaust-stained platform.

-----

“There's a rhinoceros! Everyone run for your lives!”
“Aaaah!”
“Save us! The rhino will eat us all!”
“Oi! Shut up, little brats. God, I hate kids.”
Randy Rhino sat down on the park bench and began to unwrap his sandwiches. He squinted into the distance, wishing he hadn't forgot to put his contacts in, scanning the park for his friend, Fred Fox. All he could see were a few kids running around and making a racket on the green grass. If he'd looked behind him though he'd have seen a handsome fox with bulging cheeks blowing air into an already swollen plastic bag.
BANG!
“Ooh my ticker!” cried Randy, jumping straight up in fright.
Fred, on the other hand, had fallen over, clutching his sides, laughing so hard that tears were forming.
“I suppose you think that was incredibly funny?” asked Randy, once he had managed to relax enough to not jitter all over the place.
“Of course,” replied Fred. “I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't.”
Randy snorted. The two friends were now sitting side-by-side on the park bench as they always did.
“Anything interesting going on?” asked Randy.
Fred thought a moment before answering, “Well not in my life exactly, but I have heard that there are seven days till the wolves come.”
“Really?”
“Yup,” confirmed Fred. “It's also seven days till next week, seven days in a week and seven days to the Spanish Inquisition.”
“That's interesting. I wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition.”

Nobody expects the lemmings to be marching!
One by one and two by two
Three by three in a four by four
The lemmings are marching right through my door
They're carrying sticks and they're carrying snow
Leaving wet puddles since it melts as they go
It's suicide cult of the furry kind
Everybody wants to kill themselves in their mind
Jumping off of cliffs into freezing water
Not the smartest thing 'less you're into slaughter

-----

“Good morning and welcome to Jack's snacks. We're the finest eatery on this side of the river.”
“Isn't this the only eatery on this side of the river?”
“Indeed it is, sir, and that makes us the best.”
“Well doesn't that just depend on your point of view? I mean, aren't you the worst eatery on this side of the river? If you are the only one then you must fit all possible rankings of an eatery as there's no competition.”
“What are you? Some sort of pessimistic philosopher? The glass is half full!”
It was at that moment that the conversation between Jack and his possible-but-not-to-be patron was interrupted by one of Jack's patrons-who-found-that-he-actually-wished-he-wasn't.
“Waiter! My glass is half-empty, may I have a refill?”
“I'll be right there,” called back Jack. “I think your food is also ready.”

“Here we go,” said Jack, the hare putting two plates of food before the skunk couple sitting at one of his tables. “I hope you enjoy your meal.”
The male skunk looked at his sausage and poked it with his fork.
“Do you notice anything odd about the two ends of this sausage?” he asked.
Jack leant in and took a look, “Not at all. To what are you referring?”
“Well they're rather close together aren't they? I don't like to complain-”
“Oh but you do, Dear,” interrupted his wife.
“Quiet, Darling. I can't stand how you keep yammering on all day. But back to this sausage; I've seen seen thumbs longer than it. You could make a hot dog with it and two crumbs.”
“Let's not be greedy. Sure it's not going to win any prizes for the biggest sausage but you can always have seconds.”
“At the same price as a full-sized sausage! I'm not sure what's given you a complex but judging on my spam email folder there are at least a hundred ways to get a bigger sausage.”
“My goodness!” exclaimed the female skunk, as she cracked her egg open. “I may be a skunk but even I think this stinks!”
“What's the matter?” asked Jack, turning his attention from the male skunk to the female, “Wasn't your egg cooked long enough?”
“Long enough, yes. Soon enough, no. This poses a serious health risk from its fumes!”
"Everyone has an off-day. We can't expect perfection,” protested Jack, his long ears flopping down unhappily.
The male skunk took a bit of his sausage and his eyes widened in shock.
“This sausage isn't all meat! Half of it is but the other half is... bread crumbs!”
“W-w-well in these tough economic times... it's hard to make both ends meat,” stammered Jack.
“Well I find it completely abhorrent. This is no more an eatery than there's a giant pie in the sky!”
“He's right,” agreed a second, his voice soon joined by others.
“The food here sucks.”
“Let's have hare!” shouted a fox.
“No!” yelled out Jack. “You'll never take me alive!”
In two great leaps the hare was on the side of the river.
“Farewell, cruel world! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!”
Splash!

The bubbles from Jack's untimely demise were soon gone from sight as a boat chugged along the river.
“Well this is a rather boring trip,” commented one of the grey-coloured wolves on-board.
“Well it's the cheapest way to get where we want to be,” countered the other.
The three lupines that made up the travelling pack of wolves leant on the railing on the side of the ship, looking out as the surrounding town passed them by.
“It's just that there's not much to do on,” the first wolf whined, the youngest of the pack.
“Maybe we could get Cody a newspaper to read,” suggested Brett, the beta in the pack. “It would give us something to talk about and stop him from fidgeting all the time.”
Their alpha, a muscular wolf named Cain thought about it. “Alright. We were going to arrive with a day or two to spare, so a stop off now and then to pick something up won't matter. Let's go get a paper.”
Cain walked off to talk to the captain of the ship and returned after just a few minutes with a newspaper in one of his paws.
“Here,” he threw it to Cody. “They already had a paper on board. Stop complaining now.”
“Thank you,” the young wolf bowed his head respectfully. “Oh, there's a mass funeral today,” he read, “for the XIII division who were all killed in battle.”
“That was sure unlucky.”

“It deeply saddens me that we are all here today to remember our great soldiers who gave their lives trying fight those arseholes who think that violence is a way to solve problems. Their convoy was ambushed while on its way to give money to oppressed villagers that we earned from exploiting their own natural resources and conspiring with their oppressors to create an agreement beneficial to us.”
“That coffin's moving!”
The entire funeral fell silent and near a hundred wide-eyes watched as the lid of one of the coffins started to slide open. It fell to the ground with a thud. A woman fainted as a hand came up,followed by the rest of an extremely embarrassed ginger cat.
“I... I'm not really dead... I was scared so I only pretended...”
Meekly, he quickly joined the gathered mourners and bowed his head.
“This is certainly an unexpected development,” commented the Priest, before continuing with the service. “I believe we have just witnessed a miracle. The good Lord has smiled down upon this cat as we expected. Our prayers to his mercy are far more effective than those of our enemies who pray to the same God. He has delivered him from the very clutches of evil back to the safety of his homeland.”
“Look! Another one's also moving!”
Indeed one was. Once again a coffin opened and a supposedly dead soldier poked his head up.
“Uh... I was very tired...” he offered as an excuse, creeping over to join the cat.
The priest glared at the second survivor, “There certainly won't be any medals awarded for you two. Our Lord speaks of mercy and at the same time of ruthlessly cutting down our enemies and who are we to question his wisdom? Suffering belongs in the world and we will do his work by contributing to it. Now we have two more strife-bringers who have survived to kill another day. Let us rise and sing praises to the heavens and for our fallen brethren.”
“Wait! A third coffin's moving.”
A second cat emerged, this time with grey fur.
“Somebody dropped my coffin!” he protested. “How could someone do something so insensitive?”
“My God! This is ridiculous. Is there anyone here who is actually dead?”
For a moment there was a deathly silence in the church and then the scraping of wood as more coffins began to open.
“Not me.”
“I was just faking.”
“Better luck next time.”
“I was hoping to meet some hot dead chicks.”
One by one the coffins opened until the entire XIII division had left the dead and joined the mourners.
“So you were all faking it... There are no dead bodies.... No fallen combatants... No servants of the Lord...”
“Nope. I'm afraid not.”
“Well this was a huge waste of time. Who wants to go abuse the altar boy?”
“Yay!”

-----

“Welcome one and all to the 25th anniversary of racemania! This is not KKK sponsored or in any way affiliated with Aryan fundamentalists but is here to promote sportsmanship and spirited competition where competing counts, not winning or losing, although we'll only give medals and praise to the first three competitors in any division and the rest will leave unremembered and disgraced. Now let's all turn our eyes to the side for the first event, the 100m dash!”
The athletes took their positions at the starting line, from left to right an oryx, a cheetah, a horse, another cheetah and a greyhound.
“On your marks!”
Everyone aligned themselves, their eyes fixed straight ahead to the finishing line.
“Get set!”
Their toned bodies tensed up, quivering with antici... pation.
The starters pistol let out a puff of smoke, followed by a deafening, “Bang!”
Somewhere outside the sports ground an unfortunate squirrel almost simultaneously dropped to the ground as a small piece of iron shot down from out of the sky. More importantly the athletes sprung into action and began tearing down the racetrack and not in the way soccer fans would if their favourite team lost.

About halfway down the track disaster struck. With a neigh of pain, the horse went down. One of the groundsmen was a rabbit and the horse had just stepped into a hole and was now writhing in pain, his leg broken. Almost as quick as the athletes themselves, the paramedics rushed to the scene, all of them prepared to help out in whatever way that they could.

“Alright! Relax!” shouted the announcer. “We can't have a mob scene here, make an orderly line and let's see who can help this guy out.”
“I can,” declared a fox, his voice brimming with confidence.
Everyone stood aside as he came forward to kneel in front of the trembling horse and took out a shiny coin on a string.
“Just listen to my voice and watch the coin,” instructed the fox, swinging it back and forth in an arc. “As you listen to my voice you will become relaxed. Just listen to my voice, nothing else matters. Feel your body stop hurting, everything is just fine. Your leg already is feeling better as you listen to the sound of my voice. Damn it! You're not watching the coin! Stop rolling your eyes and focus!”

“That will never help him!” snapped a skunk, pushing the fox aside. “Can't you see he's in too much pain to 'focus on your voice'? I know just what he needs.”
The skunk unwrapped a towel and placed it over the horse's head, before empting a series of vials from his pockets. One by one he poured the concoctions inside over the towel, occasionally wetting his paws and massaging the horse's body.
“These perfumes will clear his mind and realign his energies,” explained the skunk. “When he broke his leg his energy field was thrown out of alignment and that's what's causing the problem.”
A spluttering sound was soon heard under the cloth as the heavy, wet material began to suffocate the now light-headed horse.
“You're out!” shouted the announcer, snatching the towel from the horse's face.

“I can help,” a macaque assured the assembled crowd. “His energy fields are definitely out of alignment but you can't fix them with scents, the only solution is to physically reroute them.”
The monkey produced a handful of thin needles.
“If we stick these in at his energy centres we can direct his energy back into the correct path.”
“You're not sticking pins in the athletes! When that happened to Sleeping Beauty she didn't wake up for 100 years!”

The next supposed healer to approach was a mouse.
“Let us join hands,” he said quietly, reaching out for the others, “and pray for his speedy recovery.”
There were a few mumbles but out of respect everyone obliged and stood in a circle.
“Oh Lord, we come to you because one of your flock has fallen and broken his leg. Please grant to him the strength to come back from the brink and devote his life to magnifying your name. Amen.”
The circle stood around for a few minutes before someone observed, “Nothing is happening.”
“That's alright,” answered the mouse, “The Lord works in mysterious ways. Although we don't understand it, he must have something else planned for our equine friend.”

By this time a casual observer had wandered over to see what was happening. He peered through the circle and saw the horse, face white and grinding his teeth in pain. In a flash he readied his shotgun, took aim and fired.
“Problem solved.”

---

Once upon a time, when shadows still stalked the lands there lived a clan of cannibal foxes. They didn't usually hunt each other but when one of them died it was always time for a feast. When you are part of a large tribe of foxes though one fox's death doesn't leave much meat per individual and occasionally people wouldn't report finding one of their delicious comrades...

Ambling down a wooded path, a cannibal fox's ears twitched as he heard a soft cry. He paused and glanced from side to side until he could pinpoint the source of the noise. Slowly he headed off into that direction, not sure what was actually making the sounds.

After poking his nose through some bushes he saw one of the smaller foxes from his tribe, lying in pain.
“What happened to you?” he asked, padding closer.
“Ohh... I was climbing a tree when... I fell out...”
“Ah!” His ears flicked forward. “You're not going to make it are you?”
“H..hey! That's no way to be talking. I could totally pull through.”
The healthy fox's eyes flicked from side to side, “Yeah.. I don't think so.”
In a flash he'd buried a knife into the other fox and watched it's breathing cease.

“That wasn't very kind of you,” scolded a voice.
With a yip the living fox spun around to face the source of the voice, “He wasn't going to make it anyway.”
A black fox with two feathered wings and red eyes grinned, “I know. That's why I'm here.”
“Y-you're death!”
“Well done. And I'm hungry. You foxes never leave anything for me.”
“But we didn't know that violet eats!”
“Now you do, and this one is for me.”
“Couldn't you at least share a bit? Red did finish him off after all.”
“Very well, mortal,” replied Death, cutting the dead fox's tail off and tossing it to the living fox.
“Aww. Just his blue? It's mostly fur.”
“You wanted more?”
“Yes. Red was planning on yellow his whole body.”
“Were you, now?”
“Red orange.”
“Well I could always let you eat him and then I'll kill and eat you. Does that sound better?”
The fox shook his head, “No... Just green tail is fine with me.”
“Good boy,” laughed the dark spirit, “This must be quite a day for you. Seeing me and everything.”
“Y...yeah red never thought red would be standing around and talking indigo you.”
“Oh we'll be doing it again. Luckily for you not for a few more years though. Not unless you're late for your boyfriend's dinner, though.”
“Argh! Red have to go!”

After a few minutes of frantic running he managed to get to his boyfriend's house just in time.
“I've been waiting for you,” growled the other, slightly bigger fox. “Where have you been?”
“Red orange yellow green blue indigo violet.”

---

And at this point it might be a good idea to see where the wolves are currently located...

“I'm afraid you're going to have to travel in a carrier cage,” explained the train conductor.
“What?” asked Cain, "Have you gone completely bonkers? Why would we do that when there are perfectly good seats standing open on every coach within sight?”
“Well you see this is a rather low budget story and so most of the concepts have been smuggled 'as is' from the real world. The rules there are that animals must travel in carrier cages and there aren't any anthros to complain.”
“But that's preposterous! Why don't you just change the rules?”
“For only a single scene? What a complete and utter waste of time. Just be glad you're only passengers. The poor conductor has to cling to the outside to not break the rules. And let me tell you the pitfalls of running trains when you can scarcely carry a tenth of the seating capacity. The only upside is that we aren't crossing any borders. The last time I heard about the quarantine department they had so many animals stuck in there they had to get elephants to jam them through the doors.”
“What?”
“They did call in more officers but the quarantine is on the border and so they just had to walk straight into isolation. Of course when you're packed in with a hundred other anthros the only thing that's isolated is your schedule.”
A shrieking whistle sounded the train's imminent departure.
“Well, all aboard now. We must get a move on before the readers get bored.”

---

The New Journal Of International Science
Volume 243
May 2009

We are dedicated to expanding the public's knowledge of the universe and promoting a greater understanding of sound scientific practices. All articles published in this journal have been selected due to their high standard of original work and set an example to all.

Contents:

1. River Run shopping centre discovered!
T. Raverse
After years of travelling the globe T. Raverse has discovered a new shopping centre containing over 100 shops. In addition to this thrilling discovery he has been credited with the discovery of 12 new shops. This article describes his thrilling travels leading to the shopping centre and the current legal battle between him and the people who live and work there and are not that happy with their workplace being claimed by a foreigner. Plans are currently under way to name a public holiday after T. Raverse although his claim-to-fame is under fire by a few groups who claim to have discovered the shopping centre last year but not reported it.

2. AIDS cure has been found!
Cat Holic
It has been privately revealed to Cat that AIDS can be cured by having sex with a virgin. For the first time ever he shares the dream in which he learned of this spectacular cure. Millions are now flocking to see the bed on which he was sleeping in the hopes that they too will dream of a miracle.

3. Fossils a ploy of the Devil
D. Luded
After much thinking about the problem fossils pose to our ideas of life D. Luded has come to an ingenious solution. In a flash of brilliance he has realised that fossils, and the remarkable similarity of all living things, has nothing to do with evolution but is part of plot by the devil to shake our faith. He explains why everything that makes sense is the devil's deception. Remember, the Lord works in mysterious ways.

4. We all have souls
I. Like
I. Like has decided that he prefers what it would mean if everyone has a soul. If we don't have a soul life is meaningless and when we die, we die. Because of this I. Like has determined that we must, in fact, have souls. He will show how a lack of any corroborating evidence can easily be outweighed by your personal preferences.

---

There was a smash as a tracksuited raccoon broke the window of a car which was stopped at a red light. He grabbed a cellphone from the paw of the driver and started to sprint away.
"Stop thief! Somebody stop him!" screamed the driver.
Luckily for her, an off-duty policeman, a muscular German Shepard, was nearby and as he saw the crime he sprung into action.
"You're under arrest!" he barked, pursuing the fleeing criminal. "Stop now!"
Naturally the raccoon did nothing of the sort, only glancing behind to see who was chasing him. With the epinephrine pumping through his veins he pushed his way along the crowded pavements and jumped small barriers in an attempt to evade his pursuer.

Despite his best efforts the German Shepard could see that he was fighting a losing battle. He was slipping further and further from his quarry; the raccoon was just too nimble. It was time for his last resort, either he could cut his life into pieces in a gory display of Asian honour practices or a modern-day emo teen solution or he could blow the whistle he'd been given just that morning and call the police's new weapon. He chose the former.
"I have failed. Forgive me!"
The canine whipped his pistol out of it's holster, pointed it at his head and squeezed the trigger.

The raccoon would then have escaped if it weren't for the good sense of a bystander who picked up the ex-cop's bloody whistle and blew as hard as she could. Everything went silent with anticipation, even the fleeing raccoon stopped and looked back. For a few moments nothing happened but then a large shadow fell, the castor hidden inside the kitchen cupboard. The being who cast the shadow, a giant purple nose, floating about three metres off the surface of the road, suddenly appeared. Everyone remained still, frozen in shock, as the prodigious proboscis floated over the crowd towards the thieving raccoon.

As the nose approached the raccoon's eyes steadily grew larger and larger until the disembodied facial feature came to a stop above him. There was a loud sniffing sound and the raccoon was snorted up, never to be seen again. And the world was a safer place.

---

And in other news in an attempt to live up to it's reputation as a rainbow nation South Africa as declared, in an effort to lessen discrimination, that it will recognise all the languages of the world as official South African languages. Some people are not particularly happy with this new decision, amongst them the people on the street who are now forced to lug around close on two metric tonnes of phrase books on the off chance that they meet a foreigner. In contrast most printer, paper and ink manufacturers are delighted and have been seen laughing all the way to the bank. Of course the joke was on them when the banks collapsed and they were all crushed to death.

---

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING PARAGRAPH CONTAINS SNUFF. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

"'Morning," croaked the frog behind the counter.
"'Morning," replied the crow. "I'd like to buy some snuff."
"Of course, Sir. Would you like wet or dry snuff?"
"I think dry."
"A good choice. We have these new tins of quality snuff that just came in yesterday. I'm told they are some of the finest around."
"I'll take them."
The crow slid a few bills across the table.
"Don't be silly. I'm against cruelty to ducks. Please use dollar bills."
"I'm sorry. How much is that?"
"ZIM$45 000 000 000 000 000 000 000"
"I only carry US$"
"In that case $45"
"Ah. Here you go."
"Thank you."

He then went on to inhale it.

WARNING: SMOKING CANCERISOUSLY DAMAGE YOUR HEALTH.

---

"Here we are," announced Cain.
"Finally," sighed Cody, stretching his legs, just before yelping as Brett hit him on the head.
"Don't whine. Where are we supposed to go now?"
"Over there," pointed Cain, "where those workers are setting things up."

The three wolves made their way to where Cain had said they were meant to go.
"Hello," Cain said to the person who looked like he was in charge.
"Not now," came the reply, "We're rather busy and we're expecting some wolves."
"Yes. That's us. We're here."
"What!" exclaimed the foreman, turning his attention to the three lupines. "This is a disaster!"
"Why? Aren't we supposed to be here?"
"Not now! Tomorrow! This is Seven Days to the Wolves, not Six Days to the Wolves! We're going to have to redo everything. Gah! Pack it up we're going home..."

The End

"Hello? Hello? Is this thing on? Hehe. Oops, it is! Sorry."