Bruce La Fleur:  

Life Born at the tender age of zero, Bruce was stolen from his birth parents, the King and Queen of Morocco (or Monaco or one of those "M" principalities) by a band of French Canadian gypsies. Re-moniker the somewhat prosaic Bruce Allen LaFleur. Ma & Pa LaFleur had little time for young Bruce, which kinda makes you wonder why they bothered stealing him in the first place, the explanation for which is simply 'a gypsy's got do, what a gypsy's do, they placed young Bruce in the care of an au pair. Actually, a wolf au pair, as wolf au pairs are somewhat more easy to come by in the great white north than their homosapien colleagues. Living with the au pair pack taught Bruce or as he was known in the pack as "wolf wolf" which in wolf loosely transliterates into "One who, one matter how hard he tries, cannot lick himself" though it is far more nuanced, many valuable life skills. Lessons such as "Tick removal for fun and profit" and "Don't rub yourself with bear grease and roll around in kibble if you don’t want to be chased around the tundra all day by a pack of snarling, hunger maddened wolves (who knew?). Time passed in that way that is does and soon it was time to put away the things of cub-hood. Bruce's gypsy family was prospering on with not one but two 1952 DeSotos on blocks rusting out next to the double wide. Sadly Bruce had no aptitude for the family business. He was constantly forgeting which card to bend in Three Card Monty, owing to an inability to grasp the concept of all real numbers over two. He never mastered the intricacies of Pigeon Drop, let alone the dexterity necessary to even attempt the Jamaican Switch. At their Wits End (a bar on Macomb St. just off Wisconsin Ave. in upper NorthWest Wash...Expand for more