I saw a fox as I was driving and it was neat.
I pulled to the side of the road and exited my car.
The fox looked at me with a cocked head.
I followed the fox into the woods.
The fox turned to find me and then ran off, further into the woods.
I could not keep up with the fox.
I knew I could not keep up before I even tried, so I did not try.
“Fuck you, fox!” I yelled after the fox. “I don’t want to be your friend anyway!”
But, it was a lie.
I did want to be that fox’s friend.
The fox was orange and red and white and brown and had those gross nipples that nursing dogs with all those puppies get.
I was fascinated by her nipple things, but she ran away from me.
Maybe she had to go feed her pups with her gross nipple things.
A baby fox is a pup, or a cub or even a kit.
Kit is a stupid name for a baby fox, but it is true, I saw it on the internet.
I bid farewell to the benippled vixen and then suddenly, I heard a voice from behind me.
“No, fuck you, sir!” Somebody yelled from the road.
It was a man with a white beard and a cane and he was flipping me the bird with both hands.
He was old and bearded and worn and somewhat toothless and he lowered one hand and grabbed his crotch at me and then he got into my car.
“Holy fuck! He’s stealing my car,” I thought to myself.
And then he did it.
That crusty, old, bearded, bird flipping man drove off in my car as I stood alone in the woods.
I’d lost out on friendship and then I lost my car, both while in those woods.
All because of that gross nippled fox.