Wile E. Coyote is a simp

Part 1

Wile E. Coyote had finally captured that damn roadrunner. After all these years of chasing the damned bird, he could finally do what he set out to do. Eat the stupid feather bag. Wile held a fork in one hand and a knife in the other, looking down at the roped up and gagged birdie. The eyes looked so uncoprehending, dumb like a wild animal. The Coyote gloated to himself, "Well congratulations Wile, it's been a hard worked for prize but you done more than earn it." He took a second to admire his own work, taking the first bite with his eyes.

There was something terribly wrong. His eyes drew to the meat yes but they looked at his prey all wrong and in places that one should never look in prey. The Roadrunner adjusted himself, wiggling a bit to air his feathers. So comfortable as if this wasn't dangerous. The brown coyote couldn't take his eyes away from the rear, more so he could not remove his mind from lewd thoughts. There was a growing unnerving question. He spoke the horrid idea aloud, "I've finally got him. What if I wasn't chasing this damnable bird for food this whole time? What if I...?"

He backed away, shaking in his cold sweat. "Oh God, what is wrong with me!?!!" The desert canine screamed in horror of himself. After studying himself, he gritted his teeth and step back up to the plate. Years. YEARS. That time wouldn't be wasted on silly little ideas that tore him his true goal that he always knew. One slip of the mind meant nothing. The predator raised his fork and knife, assuring himself, "I'm a coyote. I'm a predator. I don't feel anything for my prey but hunger. I eat roadrunners!!" He stabbed.

He missed...

The ropes had been cut. The Road Runner was loss to run. Which he did. As if there was anything else he would do. Wile E. fell to his knees and wept. Was him subconsciously saving the bird? Had every failure his own intention to stop himself? Had all these years of hardship been a complex self destruction? Oh God. Oh God why? He was a coyote dammit! He'd spent his whole life on hunting this one bird. Coyotes don't fall in love with roadrunners. They were above such foolishness damn it!!

Oh god, what would his family think of him? What about his pack?

Wait, he hadn't talked to them in years due to following that roadrunner...

Oh god, he'd wasted his entire life.

That's about the moment he curled into a fetal position in the dirt of his cave and had a mental breakdown.