The Hater Skater and the Big Bad Wolf

I was cursed the moment I was born. An evil fairy did it. She told everyone my birth was wrong, that I was a bad omen, but she was responsible. She was looking for revenge so she cursed me...I wasn’t able to love, I hated everyone, everything, I couldn’t feel happiness

Yup, I, Slater, hate everyone and everything. Your favorite band? Hate em. That hit movie? Hate it. I even hate ice cream! I am good at roller skating, though. That’s why they call me Slater the hater skater.

I was fine being hated in return of my clear animosity until that weird leap day in February when that gaudy woman with runny mascara screeched that my roller skating was terrible. No one dared to say that and I was ready to let fly my best battery of curse words when a Ferrari d

the most expensive Ferrari money can buy slowly rolled up, the driver motioning for me to get in. I glanced at the back seat of the convertible to see no less than 3 expertly trained hogs. Who was I to rebuff the offer of such a capable animal trainer?

“Did all your houses get blown away by the wolf again?” I asked, sliding into the passenger seat. That’s when the driver let out a barklike cough. From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of giant paws on the steering wheel.

He had been eating his way through the local stock of piggies, guess it was now my turn. I confronted him bravely “You don’t have to eat your feelings! You too can have a rich life.” He howled loudly, then softly, as tears ran down his fur. And that’s how we became best friends.