The Big Bad Wolf?

KHUUUUUF The old, decrepit wolf took his inhaler down From his snarling, chapped, enfeebled frown. "This house, this house, I know they're in here." My uncle's tuna casserole? COUGH, COUGH The cough drop, too slippery, fell from grasp. But the wolf's paws, too sweaty, didn't fix his rasp. "Bah, it's no use, they're not here, I'm going home." Great aunt's pumpkin pie? CREEEEEEEAK He fell to his knees, his bones spider-spun. His legs weak, he no longer can run. "My body is telling me to stop, I should listen..." Father's spaghetti and meatballs? WHEEEEEZ The lethargic lupine finally unwrapped the drop in shaking hands, His arms, bearing too much, no longer listen to his command. "I think too much of food, I know I'll be sick..." My cousin's pancakes? BLAAAAAARGH The cantankerous wolf's corrosive upheaval lined the floor. His insides now fighting him in a civil war. "I bet those pigs would laugh if they saw this on my new sweater." Maybe an Eminem? His palms are sweaty, knees weak Arms are heavy. "There's vomit on my sweater already." Mom's spaghetti.