Just a silly story inspire by Jack Rubberchicken. Obviously the Authors mentioned are my own loose portrayal. Jack wouldn't really shoot defenceless animals. Probably.
Once upon a time, there was a man called Jack. He liked to alliterate a lot, and he was tall. Also, no one could say his surname, so they all just called him Jack Rubberchicken.
So, on one fine sunny morning, Jack decided he wanted to go for a walk in the park.
He walked down the leafy aisles, and scuffed at the ground thinking to himself: What a superlative and spectacular sunny day this is. It is sorrowful then, that I plan on saturating this smashing summer day with sadness.
And with that he pulled out a Tommy Gun, donned a pinstripe fedora and aimed at the sweet squirrels scampering swiftly in the sun-drenched trees.
But just before he could get a shot off there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see...