Engel and the Bloody Hare
Whether you like it or not, there was once a boy called Engel. He was of little consequence, as most children are, but little things often prove themselves bigger by the problems they create. The time had come for his thirteenth birthday and Uncle Reuben had sworn to take him hunting to celebrate the occasion. Engel, himself, could not have wished for anything worse and reasoned that he was not likely to survive the ordeal on account of his weak stomach. He could not bear to witness so much as a chicken’s beheading and cried for hours after his father made respective thighs, breasts, and wings out of his well-esteemed Margaret.
