"It was CARNAGE, Benny, pure slaughter. Kids screaming and crying, parents yelling, a real zoo. Chaos."
"Diefenbaker?!"
"Yeah, DIEFENBAKER. YOUR wolf. Came out of the dark with a couple of pals and did all this. Tackled 'em, wrestled 'em to the ground, dragged the smaller ones halfway up the block. Just tore 'em to pieces. Guts everywhere, the three of 'em playing keepaway with slimy, disgusting parts. It was gross, Benny, really truly gross."
"Dief?"
"The whole neighborhood's on my butt because of that damned wolf. Oh, and the best part? They start EATIN' the guts an' stuff, right out there in front of everybody."
Fraser shot a disbelieving look at a certain deaf canine, who casually grinned back. "Raw? I didn't think Dief would eat anything raw anymore."
"Is that all you can say? It was disgusting!"
"Ray, do you know what this means?"
"Yeah, it means your next paycheck is going to pay for all these pumpkins.
AND you're going to have a talk with that wolf. He can't go around
terrorizing the neighborhood like that."
(Note: inspired by my own gourd-wrestling companion, his packmates, and my mother - who buys her granddog a pumpkin to slaughter every autumn!)