I am the Wolf Slayer

There are those that will call you compadre but underneath their sheep skin knickers they'll have legs as hairy as a wolf's. You could attack them with a Bic disposable razor and a bottle of Nair, slashing and smearing their hairy exterior but it will do little good. They are who they are. The wolf can sit down to a vegetarian sheep's meal and pad at the display of greenery on the table but in his boot is a bottle of A1, a steak knife, and picture of you with wolf saliva all over it. The wolf has a tale, the wolf is a predator, the wolf smiles as he rips your throat out. Be warned. I am the wolf slayer. You are now the hunted.