WE STALK THE ROAMING BUFFALO WINGS THAT BATHE IN THE SWEET BBQ BATHS Chicken legs march past me in herds of 6, 12, and 18. Each looking more delicious than the last. The group of them unaware of my plans on devouring their juicy flavorful bodies. I enjoy the view as a plethora of animals are shepherded around on white and red cardboardious trays. I sit and stalk the wings with the rest of my pack of wild amigos and wait to gorge on their fresh tender meat. We look towards the beautiful wondering two legged mammals who know the secret hiding grounds of the next flock of wings. I breathe a sigh of relief as they show us the location of the next gaggle of honey bbq covered beasts. I sit and linger awaiting their arrival. I make sure they notice nothing but my shadow. Until. It’s. Time. To. Eat. Now. Arrrrggghhh! Just in time, for despite having no eyes, they never saw me coming. BW3 Eat up animals.
I CHASE CHICKEN TENDER TRIBES AFTER GOBBLING UP CELERY STICK FORESTS I sprint after them pouncing from bar stool to booth, past the beer frothy river, through the saucy sweet lakes, and into the blue cheese Serengeti. I tear into each delicious one, menacingly staring at the next delicacy that is about to be fed on. After the whole gaggle has been consumed, I bask in the glory of my razor sharp teeth. For in this buffalo wing land, it is I that preys upon the plumpest and most tender wings that inhabit this vast and tasty place. Nothing shall get in the way of my meal or else I’ll eat them up whole. This is a warning to all inhabitants that tread too closely to these moving fangs for I don’t discriminate between meats. I just eat. Which is why I remain careful not to get too much BBQ sauce on my hands because then I might be tempted to eat them. BW3 Eat up animals.