I don’t know why it happened in that particular time, in that particular context, but 1 day, an unemployed wolf, while sitting in his cluttered living room in a wife-beater, staring @ the newspaper he desperately clung to for a lifeboat from this depression saw a, “¿Have you seen?” o’ a golden-fleeced sheep, offering ‘nough gil to save him from the coming & coming teeth o’ rent fore’er.
& it just so happened that in that time, in that cluttered living room, he remembered 1 o’ the useless clutters his bum o’ a father had left him in death, a relic from his dusty past: the tattered sheep costume.