One morning Henry Kissinger awoke to discover that he had scrabble hooves and a soul patch. This was especially exciting to him because when he was a human being he really didn’t have a soul. He stood long before his mirror admiring his new goatish mein and prancing on the Iranian carpet, which was given to him by his old buddy, the Shah of Iran. Occasionally he raised a hoof and swayed on three legs. When he did this he found that he could almost dance as he admired himself. This was much better than being Secretary of State. He hoped, rather ardently, that he would never return to his humanoid posture. Now. How to get some garbage delivered to his suite at the Waldorf…
SK
Planet of the Blind 