The forest was still, serene, giving off an air of hope in a world. It was as if the verdant plants were a metaphor for life itself. A lone deer came into view, gently sniffing the air as it stalked for grasses to eat.

"I GOT YOU NOW YOU SON OF A BITCH." A two-hundred pound man fell directly on top of the beast, pinning it in an armlock, pressing its face against the ground. The deer's limbs thrashed wildly, trying to buck Game Warden off before he pressed it back into the ground. Pulling out a length of rope, he hog tied the animal before kicking it in the stomach.

"You thought I couldn't track some punk out in the forest? I spent three years fighting off the cartels in South America. Another two hunting men down in the Congo. Your forests here ain't nothing but a thing." he said, squatting by its head, looking the deer in the eye. Holding its head in place with one thick hand wrapped around the antler, he pulled out a large knife.
"Now talk, or I get mad." he said. The deer gave a terrified whinny in response. Game Warden punched the deer in its face.
"TALK. WHAT'S YOUR PLAN FOR TOKYO?" he shouted. The deer gave another whinny, flailing its body.

"I see. You didn't know anything, did you? Well you're gonna send them a message. You're gonna tell them I'm coming." he said, taping the oversized knife to the deer's muzzle. Next, he pulled out a large syringe of PCP, injecting it into the deer's neck before letting it go. Hopped up on the worst trip of its life, the deer frantically scrambled into the woods. Where the other deer lived. Cracking his neck, Game Warden felt the warm satisfaction in the knowledge that it would soon become a threat to its own kind.

Justice had been served.