The boy shepherd trotted into the town as the villagers spotted him and groaned, fully anticipating what was about to happen. You see, this boy, for the past few weeks, would come into town every day and repeatedly claim a vicious wolf was attacking his flock of sheep, hoping to garner some attention when in reality everyone knew he was BS-ing them. So as the boy entered the town square and started up his usual routine, the villagers rolled their eyes, wondering when this high-pitched little shithead would ever shut the fuck up. Once he finished his performance, crying and screaming about this wolf, he gave up and left as the town irritatingly went back to doing whatever profession would fit this super old-time period.
The very next day, the boy returned, but with a new, genuine pain behind his pleas; this time, a wolf had slaughtered his flock for realz. He begged the villagers to help him so that he didn’t have to face the wild beast himself. However, the villagers simply rolled their eyes and ignored him once again.
The next day, at the time the boy usually would come strolling in, he didn’t appear. The same for the next day, and the next after that, and the next, and all the way until the end of the month. Then, one morning, as the villagers began their day, there, in the center of the town square, stood none other than a wolf who was holding the boy shepherd’s corpse in its mouth. The whole village stood silent as they watched the gruesome visual unfold. Then, the wolf released the bloody corpse onto the cobblestone, stood on their hind legs, and triumphantly raised its fist in the air. A moment of silence went by, then the whole town cheered as the mayor walked up to the wolf and handed him the twenty bucks they had promised them.
The next day, the villagers went about their lives in peace, knowing there was no possibility of seeing that annoying little pick-me attention whore who literally would not stop crying wolf again.
The End.
The Banana Peel 