"Little Gray Skating Plume," the little wolf replied.
"Where you haulin' the cornucopia?"
"I'm goin to Grandpa's house."
"Oh, yeah, and where does Grandpa live?"
"Up on the boulevard - three hundred block."
"Well, have a nice walk, Wolfie."
No sooner had Little Gray Skating Plume crossed the intersection when the woman hauled ass down the other side of the street, up the boulevard and to the front door of Grandpa's house. She beat on the door. Grandpa barked, "Who is it?"
The woman howled, "Little Gray Skating Plume," and Grandpa let her in.
It was a bad move because she was able to swallow Grandpa and slip into a wolfskin before Little Gray Skating Plume came knocking.
"Grandpa," the good little wolf cried out, "Are you home? I brought brunch!"
The woman answered in her best wolf's voice, "Yes, yes, please come in, and bring that basket of goodies with you."
Little Gray Skating Plume was instantly suspicious because Grandpa couldn't have known he was carrying anything, but before he could cop a new attitude, the woman was out from under the wolfskin and all over Little Gray Skating Plume doing things that are never written into children's stories and barely mentioned in this one.
"It's you, you freak," Little Gray Skating Plume screamed at the slobbering woman. "What have you done with Grandpa?"
"Blurch," she answered, "Just what I'm going to do with you!" She tightened her hold on poor good Little Gray Skating Plume and was going to swallow him skates and all when BAM!, the door flew open and two Animal Control personnel entered the room with collars, leashes and rubber gloves on their hands.
"Thanks, Boys, but I don't need any kinky helpers," she growled at them.
"Sorry, Ma'am," one of the men said, "This wolf is on the endangered species list in this state and can't be held captive. We will see to his safe return to the wild."
"Well, I'm wild," she protested.
"Wait, please," Little Gray Skating Plume howled. "I came to see Grandpa and bring him this basket of food and reading materials. You, woman, what have you done with Grandpa?"
"Urp -- uh, nothing, why? Do you think...."
"Pardon me," interrupted one of the men, "But what is that gray hair on your dress and around your mouth? You haven't done anything beastial here have you?"
Just then, Grandpa yelped real loud as stomach acid hit his eyes. He jerked his hind legs so hard that the woman's belly heaved and she burped up more gray hair. The Animal Control personnel correctly guessed that she had swallowed Grandpa, administered a Heimlich against her abdomen, and Grandpa flew out of her gullet onto the floor.
"Oh, Grandpa," Little Gray Skating Plume yelped in delight, "It's time for brunch! I brought chops, white wine and magazines.
"Silly little wolf," said the heaving female hoodlum. "Never serve white wine with magazines. You need a burgundy. Here, I've got just the thing."
She removed provisions from her ample busom. As red wine is poured for all in attendance the sun of understanding shines poorly through the haze of North America's literary myopia and the meaning of filler pours poorly from the electronic pages of Henry's Original Stuff.