Rules of Engagement!
Gallows Humour- Itchy Triger Warning!
Contacting M.W. Wolf, Not So Friendly Reminder!
M.W. Wolf Ltd is a brand of dark adult fiction with an undertone of satire, and a bit of scientific nonfiction on the side. Thus you are going to get what it says on the biscuit tin. Its gonna be dark and twisted and I’m gonna take the piss a little, particularly if you have stolen time, innocence, money, work or anything else from me, which accounts for many people.
M.W. Wolf himself is an alter ego. A pseudonym or character in the Megaverse of Fiction.
That being said, I do drive a lot of my real world frustrations, worries, concerns, traumas, anxieties and gripes through this beast. M.W. Wolf take’s no prisoners and seldom gives a shit about how the pray he hunts feels. But he always hunts upwards and never punches downwards.
However, I’d like to put your mind at ease, when I say things like, I’ll eat your flesh, I’m speaking in metaphors. I don’t actually want to eat you, the last guy I ate repeated on me something rotten. His piss stained my teeth as well. So relax, I’m not going to hang the thieves, not all of them anyway. If I hang them, I have no one left to hunt, and I like the hunt, it’s exciting, a bit like Shere Khan playing with his food, which is a mouse. But I’m playing with pigs and rats- Piggyrats
Jokes aside, I am pissed off at many things in this messed up world. Mostly at the moment,
· War and Conflict!
· The MOD and Child Soldiers!
· Family Court and Child Milk!
· The Truth of Science!
· Plagiarism of the Literary and Film Industries!
All of these things stem from feeling oppressed and cheated, by the cheaters, of which there are many.
If you feel offended by anything I say, please do tell absolutely anyone but me. If you find yourself in the firing line, that’s because you’re a cheater and I’m coming for you… hard. Snozzberry Hard, like Willy Wonka in a sweetshop kinda hard.
You don’t get a head-start by reaching out to me personally, that just gets you a spot on the target list. Sending me links of my own blogs is fucking stupid, I wrote the fuckers, I know what they say. Unlike many writers, who I’m exposing, I write my own shit, every fucking filthy goddamn word of it, with the help of spellcheck as I’m dyslexic and started off mirror writing back when I was a feral child.
Reaching out to my relations, complaining that I’m calling you out for theft, now that’s just fight talk isn’t it? What good will come of that? You might get scalped. That’s good if you’re me, not so good if you’re you. So don’t do it, unless you want a new bloody scalp style.
If you want to reach me, you do it the correct way, which is to say, email, if you have it. If you don’t, put it on a paper aeroplane and shove it up your dad. I’ll take it from him when I’m stealing his beer tokens in the pub toilets, as he’s hoovering up a fat line of your sister’s pussy hair dandruff and complaining about how much his hanging piles itch.
Pow! Slap! Ouch! Charly bit my finger; you’re words are hurting me. You’re so vile. Yeah, fucking right I am teddy bear, did you read my bio? This is dark adult fiction and satire, if you want show ponies and fake morals go see Mr Sticky-fingers Gelly Wobble and the young girls he keeps around his desk. He’s sure to tell you how virtuous he is, as he sticks his nose in your pocket and his sticky fingers up your arsehole. He’ll wear you like a puppet and sell you to his buddies whilst writing your midyear appraisals and licking the wax out of your ears.
I’m telling it how it is; I’ll tell you the truth of you, and the truth of me, and the truth of society because I’m sick of weak cheaters hiding behind fake morals and ripping everyone off, whilst playing touchy sausage with the vulnerable. Talking of which, what’s going on with Huw Edwards? I heard he was forming a band with Phillip Schofield and calling themselves The Silver Slayers. The duos first songs reportedly include, “We Like Them Young” and “Don’t tell your Mummy.”
So yeah, if you want to lean on my family to complain that I’ve caught you stealing. Go ahead, but you should know, I left home at 14, joined the army at 16, was dead at 17, was illegally trapped in the army at 18, was at war at 19, was psychotic at 20, in hospital for my 21st, and shits just getting warmed up. You may have had a glimpse or two of the dark side yourself, but I slay the bastard every night. I’ve been at war for over 20 years. My subconscious is a 3D horror movie of Inception meets Hellraiser set at war, every night, and I don’t even got me a fist of popcorn to chew on blad. But I will fist you if you like.
So write your complaints to my family, then crumple them into a ball, shove them in your mouth and chew, until you choke… Now we’re talking, the little guy is twitching, go on, let me hear you choke and moan, louder, louder…
“Mm-mm cream, just a drop now… just to take the edge off.” And 1.2.3 now you’re dead!
No, just kidding, don’t die, it isn’t pleasant, trust me. Don’t choke on your fake virtues. But do cry at work when you’re caught out stealing from me. Also, don’t contact my family, I may make you regret it.
Otherwise, you could just use the contact page on my website- https://www.mwwolf-fiction.co.uk/contact
All smelly pants bants aside now, if you’re a friend or a friendly soul and want to reach out, please do also. If you owe me money, bring your bank details to the tea party, and decide which finger you like the least… because I’m hungry, and I’ll chew on your ball sack just to smell your sperm babies warming up for the marathon.
Take care Wolfpack, see you on the flipside.
M.W. Wolf Ltd
