Weak Little Paws
A noise ruffles the leaves in the trees above the street. A foot-tall stuffed lion drops to the ground. It picks itself up with a muffled “oof!” and waddles away…
Until it is booted high in the air by a black man with an amused look in his eyes. Seeming to confirm that the stuffed animal is “not natural,” he says simply, “You’d better do a better job of hiding your li’l cotton-stuffed ass, stranger.”
Professor Oswald Spengler coughs slightly as he glances around the street before glaring slightly at the pair chatting there.
The lion turns to peer between the two men. “I don’t suppose either of you has a car? I’m in a hurry to find a bar of chocolate, a crowbar, and a virgin over the age of sixty-two. Don’t suppose there’s an abbey around here somewhere?”