I guess the first thing you should know about me is that I've always wanted to kill an animal with my bare hands. I'm not the most violent person you'll ever meet, either. Most people describe me as mellow, sane, and particularly good-looking. I have to admit it though, because you all are my friends. I have to admit it.
I want to be walking down the street one day—perhaps by a creek or a brook of some sort—and have a huge fucking wolf roll out of the woods. He should be sleepy, at first. For some reason, I've always wanted this wolf or bear or whatever to not be a threat at first. But because it's a wolf, I'm in his territory (wolves, like most living beings, need water—explaining the creek or the brook beside this hypothetical road).
I want him to take a few moments to gain perspective before he decides whether I'm worth mauling or not. He should look at me, cock his head to the side (which may remind me, as it does now, of a common housedog type), then decide whether or not I'm an admirable foe. This is extremely important to me. I don't want any goddamned pity from nobody, especially a goddamned wolf. I'd rather not have any chance to kill an animal if he thinks I'm not the type to wrestle and/or kick his ass. I want a challenge, not some weak animal coming at me half-assed because he thinks I'm easy like a rabbit or a cat or a mutilated duckling or what have you.
I have a certain break in my pinky that makes my grip both unmistakable and court-ready. "I want you to think very carefully about this, wolf," I'll say, "I want you to realize that you are going to die by these hands" (displaying my hands, at arm's length, open and facing the sky) "that is, if you decide it is in your best interest to attempt any offensive movement in my general direction."
Nevertheless, this is a wolf and like all wolves presented with this particular situation, he's going to discount my little warning (at least, I think now, he will know what he's getting into, will have seen these hands of mine, will have been given a choice in the matter). Still, there are very many things that must occur before he mauls me. He first will decide that I'm an admirable foe (as I've said already, is a terribly important prerequisite), get down in that very wolf-like lunge position, and his fur will bristle and his teeth will shine ivory and red with new blood (this particular wolf will have eaten enough of, say, a deer carcass before we meet in the street to be lulled to sleep by an extremely laborious digestive process) (this not only explains his original sleepiness upon our meeting in the street, but also keeps the nay-saying bastards out there from saying "Oh, that fucking wolf only attacked you because he was real hungry"). He will then POUNCE.
And it should be just that. I should be thinking in parentheticals. I should be debating my own conscious whether it is just or humane to kill a wolf (who is, after all, only held to his nature more or less) and then he'll pounce. Just like that! His fur will be around me, his heavy paws will knock me to the ground and I will know that first, I must protect my jugular (of course, now I'm delving into how I would protect myself given a wolf attack, however it would be much different if it were say, a viper or a ram or a pack of hyenas).
I don't feel like I need to get into how, precisely, I will kill this wolf, but I do feel I should add that it will be:
A. Extremely thorough,
B. Compassionate and humane (including, though a cliché: quick and painless),
C. With my bare hands (as I've said).
So after all of this, I'll have a pretty great story to tell. I don't necessarily agree with the supposition that I need witnesses of this account to prove its validity. I feel as though, with current scientific progress, that any coroner with half a brain would corroborate my story, given that my hands are of a particular breadth and that I have a certain break in my pinky that makes my grip both unmistakable and court-ready.
Speaking of court, have you noticed that I didn't say that I've always wanted to kill a sheep or a lemur or any cutesy animal such as these? I feel that I should be very clear. I don't want some fucking….dead chimpanzee… to turn up in my basement and have all of those faggy animal rights people all over my lawn with their tents and steel drums and whatnot. I don't want to kill anything that would have a difficult time killing me—that's just ridiculous.
Of course, now that I think about it, no matter how much you try, no matter how many Harvard graduates you can get to corroborate your story, you're going to have (previously-mentioned) nay-saying bastards. Ethics groups would still be all over the case. Somehow, they'd try to make me—a poor and simple man—out to be some stupid kind of murderer. I don't expect to go to prison over it—because what jury would ever think that a man killed a wolf (or a bear, or a pack of hyenas, etc etc etc) with his bare hands without it being at least somewhat, self-defense. Besides, if it ever comes up, I feel like I always have the excuse that the wolf didn't have to attack me: you remember, yes?
I gave him the option to turn away. I showed him these hands. I let him know what fate awaited him if he attacked the likes of me.