In the beginning there was One Eye, the original human chief…

Okay, back the heck up, One Eye was the first successful human chief.

Ages before all of pale mankind was stuck out under the wide blue skies of the Russian steppes, dodging mammoths like a stray on the interstate, ice age a coming, wanting to get under all those nice trees in Europe. You see, you all were descended from monkeys, gained those bone claws, which now enable you to imprison our four-legged asses at will in your cunning dens, swinging from the trees like a squirrel with a broken back.

And, long ages after your smart asses trotted out onto the plains to challenge the big cats for their kills your forbearers—freezing their asses off on the windswept steppes, their fire blown out by the arctic wind—looked upon those cozy forested haunts with relish, wanting to get up in them trees with a desperate yearning.

So Two Eyes, the first recorded human chief of the Pales leads his people forth, big-ass spears, long-darting spears, fishing spears, up-bison’s-asses spears, knock- a-bird-out-of-the-sky spears, the entire vast toolkit of your predatory kind in hand, just ready to hunt what was in those woods and prosper.

Well, what was in those woods had other plans!

What you call Neanderthals was in those woods.

This was about 70,000 years ago, give or take a few.

Lookout! These squat hairy Neanderthals were like wolves with knives, sometimes running on all fours, sometimes swinging from trees, like a wolf-human hybrid, as strong as three of those skinny Pales, and before you knew it, old Two Eyes was Old No Eyes!

Damn, that was some rough going. Since this is not a military history, but a mythological dissertation, forgive me for glossing over the details. But let us just say that in those woods, being a skinny from the steppes was like being poodle at a Saigon meat market. Boom, done, 30,000 thousand years out in the cold, son!

Circa 40,000 Years B.P.

For all of those cold-ass years, the tall, skinny Pale sons of No Eyes wandered the wild steppes, faithless and alone, until, one day, a tall, pale boy was holding hands with some fine little shorty of his tribe, walking along listening to the birds singing and putting daisies in her ear fur, when up pops his enemy, a dick-dragging grunt, a Neanderthal, come all the way out from his woods to snag that sweet, skinny thing of his. Dick-Dragger thumps the boy so bad with his paw that he knocks out one of his eyes. Then, while the skinny boy is crawling around looking for his eye, Dick-Dragger, slings his dick over his left shoulder, slings Sally over his right shoulder and shuffles off for the woods.

Now, not only is this skinny boy missing an eye, he is crying out of his remaining eye and can’t find the one that Dick-Dragger knocked out.

Da-Da-Daaaa!

Tablouxe, no…

Tablaue, nah,

Tabloux, of course not

Tableu—tablue, shit!

Tabloo, no?

Tablue, shit, not that either…

Fuck it, Boss, I’m a dog, get over it, not that this Silverback could spell any better…

Okay, the history of man now takes a dramatic, needlessly extended pause, as a heroic presence takes the stage. As skinny boy crawls around looking for his lost eye, a mighty, four-legged shadow blots out the sun!

Paws, the size of snow shoes pad with silent majesty onto the world stage, set to change history forever…DA-DA-DAAAAA!

Skinny boy senses the presence of Fenri, God of Dogs, standing above him and hears a majestic lick and a tasty slurp, and Fenri says, “Mighty tasty eye you left for me to eat, One Eye. I am in your debt and you may seek my counsel—so long as you raise an ivory totem pole for me made out of bull mammoth skulls outside your hide den, that you refrain from hunting wolves or otherwise oppressing my children and that you leave the mammoth testicles of your kills uneaten so that I might descend from my lair in Fangjod to dine upon the morsels. Is it a deal human, or do I eat you?”

One Eye said, “Deal,” as he looked at the eater of his lost eye and said, “If you help me get my Sally back.”

Fenri snarled, “Can do—but are you sure you’ll want her after old Dick-Dragger is done with her?”

One Eye, learning quickly at the paws of his divine totem, while wiping blood from one cheek and tears from the other thought and sad, “Yeah, fuck that bitch. I’ll get another. But I need to know how to rub out those Dick-Draggers or this will never end. Hell, every time they rape one of our bitches she gets pregnant and wants to have the baby, and when we kill the new born, she gets upset and runs off and joins them.”

Fenri snarled, “Then up with you One Eye and learn what must be done!”

One Eye stood up and Fenri, looming over him by a full span, drool trailing down to the earth in great gobs, snarled, “You must enter the forests, seek out the Dick-Draggers, and slaughter them!”

One Eye objected, “But they run twice as fast as us, sometimes on all fours, even swinging from the trees.”

Fenri growled, “A shame you don’t have four legs, isn’t it, human?”

But One Eye went on, not getting the hint, being an ape and all, “And, they come out at night and we can’t see them!”

To which Fenri growled, “A shame you can’t smell those shit-bags in the dark, with a moist, keen snout, isn’t it?”

“Yeah!” agreed One Eye, yet still missing the suggestion, “And they are as strong as bears!”

To which great Fenri, loomed closer, baring his foot-long fangs and snarled with meaning into One Eye’s face, “A shame some genius didn’t think to raise those half-breeds as bane upon their fathers and set them upon their non-human parent, isn’t it?”

Had One Eye failed to take this, the third hint, he would have been only worthy for food. But it then occurred to him that Fenri had been riddling him the keys to success for the coming war he would lead. Seeing ape eyes finally alight with a brightness worth of the winter sky—blue eyes being the gift of Fenri upon men from that point forward, One Eye’s lone peeper was transformed blue, being the first of its kind, the beneficence of Fenri upon men, the gift of godlike eyes.

Pleased with this blue-eyed human, the God of Wolves reared up on his hind paws and howled. Howls answered from all around and soon a pack of finest wolfkin milled about their awesome lord who had these things to say to his human student:

“One Eye, go back to your people, take a wolf bone from the refuse pile and cleanse it in the fire, then plunge it into the eye of your chief, the same eye that you have lost. My pack will swarm in to camp behind you to uphold your chieftainship.

“In the forest, the Dick-Draggers are our great enemy, for they can see at night and hunt us in our dens. You may take my kin and raise them in your camps so you and they can guard each other by night, and by day, they can sniff out the Dick-Draggers in their hidey holes and no animal on earth is as fast as the wolf-pack, or has as many fangs. Your branch-grasping hands from the warm lands and our frost loving eyes from the snow-lands will combine to wipe out the enemy and the descendants of this mighty pack shall be named dogs, slaves to your kind.

“This will come to pass on the condition that your kind does not hunt wolves to extinction, does not poison them, does not kill all of their meet, and most of all, on the condition that you humans do not, through controlled breeding of your dog slaves, permit your women to design petting dogs, pretty dogs, eating dogs, parade dogs, etc.”

“One Eye of the Humans, so long as your kind keeps this pact, your women, your shrill ape-bitches, shall love and respect you. Be warned, though, if you hunt wolf kind or corrupt dog kind into sissy fashion accessories. For if you do the human gods, who I am on good terms with, as I have hunted many a giant on their behalf, shall forsake your kind and they shall dwindle towards extinction as their women gain control of the camps and shirk the bringing fourth of young and instead nurture the weak and pathetic dog breeds they have brought into being as their four-legged children—and your race shall go out like a candle before the North Wind!”

With those icy words, Fenri bounded off towards the lights that twinkle above the northland even by day leaving his pack of 14 awesome wolves with One Eye, as his allies.

Okay, Master Ape, that’s the basics of our mythological relationship. And might I say, that you have preserved two of Fenri’s maxims for which you have my unsighing respect, you don’t have blue eyes, indicating you are part Dick-Dragger and you understand that your ape bitches have gotten out of line and have rightfully enlisted my aid towards curbing that sociological imbalance, one bitch at a time.

Which brings us to my secret history of greatness in your cause…