Donna subscribes to a hippie magazine, the kind filled with ads for stones to control your aura, handmade Jesus sandals, and furniture made out of hemp. This, naturally, gets her on some awesome mailing lists.
We've gotten solicitations to buy farm animals for people in third-world nations (for just $267.99, you can provide dirt farmers like Iesco with enough wildebeest to last his family for six months!) and pleas to grow our own crops so as to end our dependence on fat cat corporations like Cashwise Foods and Piggly Wiggly and that corner grocery run by Iesco's cousin.
Our latest bit came with this totally awesome and not sensationalist headline blaring from the cover of the envelope:
How will this wolf pup survive... once its pack is slaughtered by aerial guns?
Awesome in every way, right? This was accompanied by a black and white picture of a cute little wolf pup staring at you right into your soul! from a field of weeds. Of course, the envelope was only so big, so what you couldn't see in the picture was the Apache gunship lining up for the kill shot. The pup was about to become goo, baby.
I have this vision of a fleet of helicopter gunships coming over the horizon, Flight of the Valkyries blaring, turning Yellowstone National Park into a Cambodian-style killing field. Spent brass from thousands of rounds from Vulcan cannons spilling to the ground like rain, like when Neo saved Morpheus by somehow not hitting him even once despite spraying the cannon fire back and forth indiscriminately. A lone wolf sniffs the air, then BLAM -- the wolf can't sniff anything anymore because a helicopter gunship blew off its nose! Glorious.
Of course, nothing this cool has, is, or ever will happen. The truth is that these wolves were on the endangered species list for years. With their only real predator taken out of the picture their population exploded. Now they are encroaching on populated areas. So a ban on hunting them was lifted in order to control their numbers. Makes sense right? Crazy hippies don't think that way though. Probably smoking too many ottomans.