Saturday, 8 November 2014
In the darkness, Jim loaded his gun; he was fiercely protective of his girls. Not that he didn't take advantage of them himself; he did subjugate them and had in his mind a rough kind of plan to do away with them when they were no longer of use of him, but he still objected to him sniffing around, trying to get a piece. Jim smiled to himself as his quarry was unaware of the cross-hairs aptly about to crucify the little bastard. The gentle squeeze of the trigger, violently squeezed life from the pursuer of Jim's girls. He relaxed as the muscles of the dead body relaxed. Soon after, looking forward to a good night's sleep and his breakfast the next morning, Jim slung the fox in a ditch.