Don't look at me that way. I'm not born mad, darn bad or something. No, I am not!
Yes, I do scream, at the top of my voice, for this, that and everything. But, I do it particularly well only when I'm exceedingly frustrated, amongst other times when I do it for the fun of it or some silly thing of that stupid sort. Yes, it is kind of a matter of fact or the nature's lame and lousy law that I live with and, yet, I get psyched, that not that genuinely beautiful woman sitting next to you, nor the perfumed pervert sitting next to her, and not any ugly swan down the lake, nor any cute little pig nearby the gutter, none of you give a damn about me. As if I care, but, its just a way how I can make you feel my presence, though I quite hate you guys being scared of me to look cute to your girlfriends or acting brave for them when you are actually scared of me.
And please ask your girlfriends to stop feeding me the food they are supposed to have. It is cliched, and not cute anymore. I would make a sincere request to you all, to not even imagine of pitying me. I don't expect any warmth from your bloody breed-- the warm-blooded bodies with cold-blooded minds. You please be bothered about the warmth and wars amongst yourselves, in the first-place. And, yes, I can win my own food, the hard way that I've learnt, or die hungry instead, though I still do run behind your semi and super luxury cars, and I know that irritates you, like hell. But, that is how my screwed up head's wired, making me think anything that is running away from me is my Goddamn prey. But, its ridiculously easy for you to ignore my innocence, isn't it? You throw stones at me, and give bones to your belt-wearing bitch. Kindly continue doing that, sir.
I should admit, it indeed gives me an extraordinary pleasure when you are really scared of me, though. Go pray, for you ought to play prey to my ego, now on. And, shy off, you better, now. Another dirty look or a fuckless stone my way, I'm going to bite your ass off you, you son of a woman!