[A short squat man wearing a shiny metallic shirt only buttoned half way with wide collars heads up to the podium. His hair is slicked back and a shiny gold medallion is nestled comfortably in a copious tuft of chest hair.]
Hey Yo. My name is Joey LoDucca of LoDucca Brothers Automotive Repair and Storage. My parole office says I gots to come to these meetings. I’m like one of dem addicts or something.
[Hank the Were Wimp pipes in “Sir, I believe you want the meeting down the hall. This is Were Creatures Anonymous.”]
Oh Yeah, I’m one of dose too. I’m whatchu call one of dem dere Were-Badgers. My Girlfriend says I gots a bad temper and I needs to come to dese meetings. I told her to mind her own beeswax, but then the judge got all over me for kicking da crud out of some goombah that got in my way at the grocery store. I told him dat it was my right as an American citizen to kick the living tar out of jerks that annoy me. And then he said it was his right to send me to da pokey if I didn’t come to dese meetings.
I done already spent time in da big house. Dey don’t take too kindly to my kind if you know what I mean.
[Someone from the crowd yells out “Were-Creature?”]
No, Italian, ya dumb Pollock.
I don’t knows how you guys handle this. Every time I turn around there’s some moron begging to get his throat ripped out. Da guy who got me sent here took da last box of cinnamon pop tarts right before me. You can’t tell me dat he didn’t deserve to get blasted.
The other day there was dis tremendously fat fool going down the escalator and was just standing and not walking down. I couldn’t get around him, so I freakin blasted him. I mean go down the freakin escalator. If you don’t want to move, stay on your couch and watch reruns of Bonanza for heavens sake. Damn Hoss wannabe just stood there wasting my time.
And dis time of da year, they come out in force. You can’t reach your hand out without brushing up against some moron that is dying to get blasted. I say go return your crappy gift and get the freak off of da roads. You people are really pissing me off.
Dat’s all I gots ta say. And remember if you need good quality repairs on your mode of vehicular transportation or need some place to store your boat, RV, or expensive pieces of jewelry, be sure to call LoDucca Brothers.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Lollipop Love
“Hi, I’m Hank and I’m a werewolf.”
[Everyone: Hi Hank!]
“I’m… Uh… Wow, this is tougher than I thought… Okay, I’m just going to come right out and say it…”
[Person in the crowd: So say it already!]
“I was working up to it! This isn’t easy and you’ll understand when I finally say it… All right… Out with it…
“I’m in love with a lollipop!”
[Same person: A what?]
“A lollipop. What’s with all the blank stares? Geez, don’t you people know what a lollipop is?”
[Miguel: I know-]
“Besides you, Miguel… Man, don’t any of you people ever go out or read anything in the press? A lollipop is a vampire!
“You guys still don’t get it? It’s like this. A vampire is a blood sucker. People shorten blood sucker to sucker. And a sucker is another word for a lollipop. See? It’s simple.
“I can see by your faces that this isn’t sinking in. Let’s just say vampires would rather be called lollipops than scabbies. At least the girls would. And that’s what I want to tell you about. I’m in love with a girl vampire!
“I’d been looking around for a script writer to infect with ALPS so we could get a big, sympathetic movie made about us. And with that stupid editorial calling for internment of all of us, I figured it was more important than ever to find the script writer fast! I did some searching around on the internet. By the way, thanks for fixing my computer again, Miguel!"
[Miguel: No prob, dude.]
“Anyway, I’d found this guy, Luke Dorn, who was taking a break from Hollywood for a few months. He came here to teach writing for a semester at a local college and work on a book he was writing. Anyway, I tracked-“
[Miguel: You tracked?]
“Okay, I told Miguel about the guy and he tracked him down somehow. I think Miguel used his computer but I don’t know. Anyway, once I knew where Luke lived and worked, I watched him for a while to figure out his habits. It turns out he always hits a sports bar on Monday nights to watch football. I started going to same bar and it wasn’t too hard to manage to meet him and get him talking. That’s an essential skill for a used car salesman! Besides, he made it easy. He always wore a Philadelphia Eagles hat and jacket. I just showed up wearing the same and he did most of my work for me.
“Anyway, we became good buddies. I wasn’t faking that, either. Luke turned out to be a good guy. Nice enough I was starting to feel sorry I had to infect him with ALPS. Last Monday, I suggested we meet at his apartment after work and grab a bite to eat before the game. That way I could bite him in private and not give the papers any more bad stuff to write about us.
“I showed up at Luke’s place at 6:30 and he offered me a beer while he finished up something. I kicked in a little of the power just to sense if he was nervous or anything. And right then the door opened and a woman walked in. A really good looking woman.
“Luke said, ‘Oh, good. I was hoping you’d get home in time! Hank, this is my sister Michelle.’
“But we weren’t paying attention to Luke. Michelle glared at me and said, “Alpo.” I glared back and said, “Scabbie.” Luke was just looking back and forth between us looking confused when Michelle leaped at me.
“She knocked me back into the wall but I just used it to push off and hit her hard, knocking her down. Next thing, we were rolling all around trying to get an advantage on the other. I really wanted to fully transform, but you know how you have to give it all your concentration for a second or so to transform if the moon isn’t full? Well, I figured if I took that second or so, she’d rip my throat out or something.
“In the background, I think Luke was shouting at us. He was probably trying to figure out what was going on, too. Can’t say I blame him. I mean, his sister and his new friend were rolling around on the floor, breaking his furniture and trying to kill each other. It’d probably freak out any normal.
“Michelle and I rolled up against this monster couch that Luke had and everything stopped for a second. She was lying on top of me, trying to pin my arms to the floor. We were both panting and I’ll bet I had the same wild, uncontrolled look in my eyes that she had in hers. I could feel blood rolling down the side of my cheek from a cut. Then it was like the whole world vanished for a few seconds. It just her and me, staring into each other’s eyes. That’s when she leaned down and licked the blood off my cheek. The look on her face told me everything.
“She was hungry and it was taking every bit of control she had to fight her natural instincts. I know how that feels. We all know how that feels. So I said, ‘Go ahead and feed. It’s okay. ’ I turned my head and offered my neck to her. That wasn’t easy to do, I’ll tell you!
“Her fangs popped out but she still hesitated. ‘I… I shouldn’t!’
“’Why not?’ I asked her. ‘Remember? I’m a werewolf. I’ll heal! Let yourself go. Everyone needs to do that every now and then.’
“I’ve got a better idea why vampires are having an easier time fitting in to noral society than we are. Having a vampire feed on you is… Well, it’s hard to describe. It hurts a bit at first but then it becomes really intimate. It’s not like sex, but it’s just as intimate.
“After a few minutes, it dawned on us that Luke was still in the room watching us. It was almost embarrassing. Kind of like being in college and having your roommate ignore the tie you left on the door knob and walked in at the wrong time. But Luke was embarrassed by it. Hell, he was busy scribbling in a notebook and muttering, ‘This is great stuff!’
“I won’t go over everything that happened afterwards, but get this. Luke’s going to write that screenplay we want! He’s going to put vampires in it, too, which makes sense considering his sister is one. It’s going to be about how alienated both groups are from normal society. I didn’t even have to give Luke ALPS to get him started! And I met a wonderful girl at the same time!
“I love it when a plan comes together!”
[Everyone: Hi Hank!]
“I’m… Uh… Wow, this is tougher than I thought… Okay, I’m just going to come right out and say it…”
[Person in the crowd: So say it already!]
“I was working up to it! This isn’t easy and you’ll understand when I finally say it… All right… Out with it…
“I’m in love with a lollipop!”
[Same person: A what?]
“A lollipop. What’s with all the blank stares? Geez, don’t you people know what a lollipop is?”
[Miguel: I know-]
“Besides you, Miguel… Man, don’t any of you people ever go out or read anything in the press? A lollipop is a vampire!
“You guys still don’t get it? It’s like this. A vampire is a blood sucker. People shorten blood sucker to sucker. And a sucker is another word for a lollipop. See? It’s simple.
“I can see by your faces that this isn’t sinking in. Let’s just say vampires would rather be called lollipops than scabbies. At least the girls would. And that’s what I want to tell you about. I’m in love with a girl vampire!
“I’d been looking around for a script writer to infect with ALPS so we could get a big, sympathetic movie made about us. And with that stupid editorial calling for internment of all of us, I figured it was more important than ever to find the script writer fast! I did some searching around on the internet. By the way, thanks for fixing my computer again, Miguel!"
[Miguel: No prob, dude.]
“Anyway, I’d found this guy, Luke Dorn, who was taking a break from Hollywood for a few months. He came here to teach writing for a semester at a local college and work on a book he was writing. Anyway, I tracked-“
[Miguel: You tracked?]
“Okay, I told Miguel about the guy and he tracked him down somehow. I think Miguel used his computer but I don’t know. Anyway, once I knew where Luke lived and worked, I watched him for a while to figure out his habits. It turns out he always hits a sports bar on Monday nights to watch football. I started going to same bar and it wasn’t too hard to manage to meet him and get him talking. That’s an essential skill for a used car salesman! Besides, he made it easy. He always wore a Philadelphia Eagles hat and jacket. I just showed up wearing the same and he did most of my work for me.
“Anyway, we became good buddies. I wasn’t faking that, either. Luke turned out to be a good guy. Nice enough I was starting to feel sorry I had to infect him with ALPS. Last Monday, I suggested we meet at his apartment after work and grab a bite to eat before the game. That way I could bite him in private and not give the papers any more bad stuff to write about us.
“I showed up at Luke’s place at 6:30 and he offered me a beer while he finished up something. I kicked in a little of the power just to sense if he was nervous or anything. And right then the door opened and a woman walked in. A really good looking woman.
“Luke said, ‘Oh, good. I was hoping you’d get home in time! Hank, this is my sister Michelle.’
“But we weren’t paying attention to Luke. Michelle glared at me and said, “Alpo.” I glared back and said, “Scabbie.” Luke was just looking back and forth between us looking confused when Michelle leaped at me.
“She knocked me back into the wall but I just used it to push off and hit her hard, knocking her down. Next thing, we were rolling all around trying to get an advantage on the other. I really wanted to fully transform, but you know how you have to give it all your concentration for a second or so to transform if the moon isn’t full? Well, I figured if I took that second or so, she’d rip my throat out or something.
“In the background, I think Luke was shouting at us. He was probably trying to figure out what was going on, too. Can’t say I blame him. I mean, his sister and his new friend were rolling around on the floor, breaking his furniture and trying to kill each other. It’d probably freak out any normal.
“Michelle and I rolled up against this monster couch that Luke had and everything stopped for a second. She was lying on top of me, trying to pin my arms to the floor. We were both panting and I’ll bet I had the same wild, uncontrolled look in my eyes that she had in hers. I could feel blood rolling down the side of my cheek from a cut. Then it was like the whole world vanished for a few seconds. It just her and me, staring into each other’s eyes. That’s when she leaned down and licked the blood off my cheek. The look on her face told me everything.
“She was hungry and it was taking every bit of control she had to fight her natural instincts. I know how that feels. We all know how that feels. So I said, ‘Go ahead and feed. It’s okay. ’ I turned my head and offered my neck to her. That wasn’t easy to do, I’ll tell you!
“Her fangs popped out but she still hesitated. ‘I… I shouldn’t!’
“’Why not?’ I asked her. ‘Remember? I’m a werewolf. I’ll heal! Let yourself go. Everyone needs to do that every now and then.’
“I’ve got a better idea why vampires are having an easier time fitting in to noral society than we are. Having a vampire feed on you is… Well, it’s hard to describe. It hurts a bit at first but then it becomes really intimate. It’s not like sex, but it’s just as intimate.
“After a few minutes, it dawned on us that Luke was still in the room watching us. It was almost embarrassing. Kind of like being in college and having your roommate ignore the tie you left on the door knob and walked in at the wrong time. But Luke was embarrassed by it. Hell, he was busy scribbling in a notebook and muttering, ‘This is great stuff!’
“I won’t go over everything that happened afterwards, but get this. Luke’s going to write that screenplay we want! He’s going to put vampires in it, too, which makes sense considering his sister is one. It’s going to be about how alienated both groups are from normal society. I didn’t even have to give Luke ALPS to get him started! And I met a wonderful girl at the same time!
“I love it when a plan comes together!”
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Underwere
“Hello, I’m Andrew, and I’m a were-bear.”
[Group snickers]
“Not a ‘Care Bear,’ damn it!” Sorry, I get that a lot. Anyway, I’ll just cut to the chase. For those of you who don’t know, this is my first time here… I guess it all started when I went to college. I’m sure you’ve heard of the freshman fifteen. Well, I got the freshman fifty. My sophomore year I gained another hundred pounds. By my senior year I weighed over four hundred pounds. Hair was growing all over my body, and I don’t mean in the annoying sex education video way. Fortunately that was the extent of the transformations at the time. ‘Cause the doctors I saw thought I just needed a diet. I told ‘em I tried dieting, but they wouldn’t listen. Maybe there was something to just being big-boned.
“After college I got a job in construction, on account of my ability to bench-press a small car. Yeah, I see the nervous looks on your faces now. That’s why you don’t make fun of a man telling his life story. But don’t worry. I’m over it. Really. Anyway, I worked nights at a gay strip club. Don’t know why, but for some reason some folks there liked me. A lot.
“That was when it all took a turn for the worse. One night near the end of the construction season I came home hammered and went to bed—I was sleeping on the floor after having broken several mattresses—and the next thing I knew I was out of a job. It went like this: I come in early in the morning, eat all the donuts—I was so hungry I could have eaten a horse… sorry Mr. Ed—and then one of my coworkers, Rick, comes up to me and says, ‘I doubt they’ll hire you again.’ I had no idea what he meant. None whatsoever. Soon though, I found out that I was late to work. Not that morning, mind you. Work wouldn’t have started for nearly an hour. It was more that I was several months late. Hibernation. Like Rip Van frickin’ Winkle, it’s great at the time, but later you wish you didn’t waste a significant portion of your life. Of course I took my frustration out on my boss—ate him, I did—and then I killed all my coworkers, ate bits and pieces from some of them too. Why are you all looking at me so funny? I’m on a strict salmon diet now. I swear.
[Nervous looks abound]
“Um… so, last week I was number one on the Threat Down on the Colbert Report. Anyone see my picture? Oh, you did? What do you mean you wonder whether or not Constitutional rights apply to were-folks? Second Amendment? What are you pulling out...? Aaahh! Lord no! My only regret is that I didn’t kill you all the moment I came in here…
[BLAM! Shortly thereafter another group member stands up]
“Hi, I’m Dave, and I’m a were-African lion. Remember the African part. Asiatic lions suck! Sorry about the mess, by the way. No thanks necessary for saving your lives. It’s what I do. You see, I’m a bounty hunter nowadays. I used to be a mascot though. You can guess who for. By the way, eat it Chicago! Sorry, you can see that I’m really into pride. It’s okay. You can laugh. It’s funny. Hey, all we need is a were-tiger, oh my!
“I don’t really have my story all prepared or anything. I just came here to kill the were-bear. But hey, you’re cool. You’re all cool. I think I’ll sit down and listen to what you have to say. Maybe I’ll come back next week for someone else. Just kidding! Jeez, you guys are twitchier than a freshly killed zebra! Sorry, I’ll stop now. Really, I will. I’ll come back next week—for real now—if this thing proves interesting. I won’t hurt anyone else. I’m not lyin’. Get it? I’m not ‘lion’? Wow. This crowd is tougher than a grandpa wildebeest. In all seriousness though, I’ve never eaten a were-person. Just normal people! Kidding. Only kidding. You’d think this was a support group for paranoid freaks. You know… batty people. Sorry if anyone is a were-bat.
“Hey, how about wearing clothes? I mean how it’s like for us were-types to wear clothes. Is there a were-clothes in here? HAHAHAHAHA! Just checking. Personally I don’t wear underwear. I mean shedding though. That is hell on the clothes. Embarrassing. I mean if that isn’t the elephant in the room here, what is? Well, except Dumbo over there… sorry.
“Man, this is pun! We should do this more often. See you soon. You won’t see me though. Not until it’s too late, anyway. Honestly, will you all calm down and stop sweating like pigs? You bunch of Chickens. Oops. I shouldn’t have said that. Hey, just wait until we get a powerful lobby in Washington, like the Jews. Hmm, Wilbur, are you kosher? Never again! We shall overcome! Were-pride! Peace out, dudes! Wait, just one more thing. Anyone want to take this thorn out of my paw? No takers? Uh oh, now something’s got the were-elephant all frightened.
[Group snickers]
“Not a ‘Care Bear,’ damn it!” Sorry, I get that a lot. Anyway, I’ll just cut to the chase. For those of you who don’t know, this is my first time here… I guess it all started when I went to college. I’m sure you’ve heard of the freshman fifteen. Well, I got the freshman fifty. My sophomore year I gained another hundred pounds. By my senior year I weighed over four hundred pounds. Hair was growing all over my body, and I don’t mean in the annoying sex education video way. Fortunately that was the extent of the transformations at the time. ‘Cause the doctors I saw thought I just needed a diet. I told ‘em I tried dieting, but they wouldn’t listen. Maybe there was something to just being big-boned.
“After college I got a job in construction, on account of my ability to bench-press a small car. Yeah, I see the nervous looks on your faces now. That’s why you don’t make fun of a man telling his life story. But don’t worry. I’m over it. Really. Anyway, I worked nights at a gay strip club. Don’t know why, but for some reason some folks there liked me. A lot.
“That was when it all took a turn for the worse. One night near the end of the construction season I came home hammered and went to bed—I was sleeping on the floor after having broken several mattresses—and the next thing I knew I was out of a job. It went like this: I come in early in the morning, eat all the donuts—I was so hungry I could have eaten a horse… sorry Mr. Ed—and then one of my coworkers, Rick, comes up to me and says, ‘I doubt they’ll hire you again.’ I had no idea what he meant. None whatsoever. Soon though, I found out that I was late to work. Not that morning, mind you. Work wouldn’t have started for nearly an hour. It was more that I was several months late. Hibernation. Like Rip Van frickin’ Winkle, it’s great at the time, but later you wish you didn’t waste a significant portion of your life. Of course I took my frustration out on my boss—ate him, I did—and then I killed all my coworkers, ate bits and pieces from some of them too. Why are you all looking at me so funny? I’m on a strict salmon diet now. I swear.
[Nervous looks abound]
“Um… so, last week I was number one on the Threat Down on the Colbert Report. Anyone see my picture? Oh, you did? What do you mean you wonder whether or not Constitutional rights apply to were-folks? Second Amendment? What are you pulling out...? Aaahh! Lord no! My only regret is that I didn’t kill you all the moment I came in here…
[BLAM! Shortly thereafter another group member stands up]
“Hi, I’m Dave, and I’m a were-African lion. Remember the African part. Asiatic lions suck! Sorry about the mess, by the way. No thanks necessary for saving your lives. It’s what I do. You see, I’m a bounty hunter nowadays. I used to be a mascot though. You can guess who for. By the way, eat it Chicago! Sorry, you can see that I’m really into pride. It’s okay. You can laugh. It’s funny. Hey, all we need is a were-tiger, oh my!
“I don’t really have my story all prepared or anything. I just came here to kill the were-bear. But hey, you’re cool. You’re all cool. I think I’ll sit down and listen to what you have to say. Maybe I’ll come back next week for someone else. Just kidding! Jeez, you guys are twitchier than a freshly killed zebra! Sorry, I’ll stop now. Really, I will. I’ll come back next week—for real now—if this thing proves interesting. I won’t hurt anyone else. I’m not lyin’. Get it? I’m not ‘lion’? Wow. This crowd is tougher than a grandpa wildebeest. In all seriousness though, I’ve never eaten a were-person. Just normal people! Kidding. Only kidding. You’d think this was a support group for paranoid freaks. You know… batty people. Sorry if anyone is a were-bat.
“Hey, how about wearing clothes? I mean how it’s like for us were-types to wear clothes. Is there a were-clothes in here? HAHAHAHAHA! Just checking. Personally I don’t wear underwear. I mean shedding though. That is hell on the clothes. Embarrassing. I mean if that isn’t the elephant in the room here, what is? Well, except Dumbo over there… sorry.
“Man, this is pun! We should do this more often. See you soon. You won’t see me though. Not until it’s too late, anyway. Honestly, will you all calm down and stop sweating like pigs? You bunch of Chickens. Oops. I shouldn’t have said that. Hey, just wait until we get a powerful lobby in Washington, like the Jews. Hmm, Wilbur, are you kosher? Never again! We shall overcome! Were-pride! Peace out, dudes! Wait, just one more thing. Anyone want to take this thorn out of my paw? No takers? Uh oh, now something’s got the were-elephant all frightened.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Feeling a Bit Strange...
It's really cloudy here in Middle America... lots of rain... but I'm feeling REALLY frisky/angry/dangerous/wild tonight.
Anyone else feel that way?
Anyone else feel that way?
Sunday, December 7, 2008
A Call to Reason
(The following editorial appeared in the Sunday, December 7th edition of the Miami Herald.)
by Michael Zevon
Imprisoning civilians? Mass quarantines? Targeting minorities?
It sounds like a nightmare straight from the dark days of Stalin’s purges - but if a certain uninformed and overwrought segment of our nation gets their way, these atrocities could soon be taking place right here in America. Who knows – someone in your family might be targeted!
Now, what would bring this attack on a sub-set of America? Who do you think these new “criminals” would be? Illegal immigrants? Terror suspects?
Far from it! Rather, some elitists are focusing their fear and hatred on the sufferers of a rare and hard-to-spread disease – Acquired Lycanthropic Polymorphism Syndrome (ALPS).
Yes, we’ve heard the stories. That people living with ALPS turn “violent” or somehow transform into “werewolves” or “killing machines.” Granted, there have been some minor incidents. But that needn’t mean that ALPS victims need to be treated with contempt! Quite the opposite. The men and women that struggle with this disease, and indeed any other disease, need an extra dose of care! How about showing some compassion? Maybe even a little love? A little education and awareness go a long way. In this age of supposed tolerance, shouldn’t we be over the prejudices of the past?
Apparently some aren’t. For example, consider this quote from the editors of the Chicago Tribune: “Until a cure is found, we call on President-Elect Obama to order the internment of all those who suffer from ALPS.” (Nov. 30th, 2008)
Unbelievable! Interment? This is not WWII! We’re talking about our fellow Americans. Our neighbors. Our friends. Not our enemies.
No wonder ALPS sufferers are reluctant to share their struggles! Would you if you were afraid of discrimination… or even of being put behind bars… just because you have some occasional hard-to-control symptoms? Certainly not!
It’s time to stop the madness. Ask yourself – is this or is this not a free country? Those in power have already damaged their credibility through anti-freedom legislation such as the Patriot Act. It’s time to stop finding new targets and start returning to the freedoms on which this nation was founded.
Or one day we may all wake up in chains.
by Michael Zevon
Imprisoning civilians? Mass quarantines? Targeting minorities?
It sounds like a nightmare straight from the dark days of Stalin’s purges - but if a certain uninformed and overwrought segment of our nation gets their way, these atrocities could soon be taking place right here in America. Who knows – someone in your family might be targeted!
Now, what would bring this attack on a sub-set of America? Who do you think these new “criminals” would be? Illegal immigrants? Terror suspects?
Far from it! Rather, some elitists are focusing their fear and hatred on the sufferers of a rare and hard-to-spread disease – Acquired Lycanthropic Polymorphism Syndrome (ALPS).
Yes, we’ve heard the stories. That people living with ALPS turn “violent” or somehow transform into “werewolves” or “killing machines.” Granted, there have been some minor incidents. But that needn’t mean that ALPS victims need to be treated with contempt! Quite the opposite. The men and women that struggle with this disease, and indeed any other disease, need an extra dose of care! How about showing some compassion? Maybe even a little love? A little education and awareness go a long way. In this age of supposed tolerance, shouldn’t we be over the prejudices of the past?
Apparently some aren’t. For example, consider this quote from the editors of the Chicago Tribune: “Until a cure is found, we call on President-Elect Obama to order the internment of all those who suffer from ALPS.” (Nov. 30th, 2008)
Unbelievable! Interment? This is not WWII! We’re talking about our fellow Americans. Our neighbors. Our friends. Not our enemies.
No wonder ALPS sufferers are reluctant to share their struggles! Would you if you were afraid of discrimination… or even of being put behind bars… just because you have some occasional hard-to-control symptoms? Certainly not!
It’s time to stop the madness. Ask yourself – is this or is this not a free country? Those in power have already damaged their credibility through anti-freedom legislation such as the Patriot Act. It’s time to stop finding new targets and start returning to the freedoms on which this nation was founded.
Or one day we may all wake up in chains.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Until a Cure Is Found
(The following editorial appeared in the Sunday, November 30, edition of the Chicago Tribune):
The McCarthy Park Massacre. All of our readers are, by now, thoroughly familiar with this unfortunate incident. All of our readers know the world of journalism lost Les Nesman in the Massacre. All of our readers know of the call from PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) for a criminal investigation into publishing giant Rampant Loon’s role in the Massacre; a call the editors second most heartily. Despite the immediacy of these stories, they serve only to misdirect attention from the true issue.
What is to be done with those who have contracted Acquired Lycanthropic Polymorphism Syndrome, or ALPS as it is called in the popular press?
The editors are second to none in their compassion for the poor souls who, through no fault of their own, have contracted this dread disease. But compassion must be tempered with caution. Unlike cancer or AIDS, those who suffer from ALPS are a threat to the community around them. We fully understand that these wretched individuals are not to blame for their rampages. We fully understand their bestial alter egos are beyond their control. But we also fully understand the citizens of this city, this state, this country deserve to walk the streets without fear of attack.
Consider the toll paid in the McCarthy Park Massacre:
- Les Nesman, news reporter for NPR station WWSL
- George Sweeny, cameraman for WWSL TV
- Two pedestrians, identities still unknown
- 62 turkeys
- An unknown number of pigeons and squirrels
This toll is too high to pay once, yet similar stories are found in city after city across this great land of ours.
Therefore, the editors call upon the federal government to step forward and take ownership of problem. Until a cure is found, we call upon President-Elect Obama to put an end to the fear and horror. Until a cure is found, we call for a real War on Terror, a war on the terror ALPS brings to communities large and small, rich and poor, urban and rural. Until a cure is found, we call on President-Elect Obama to protect our husbands and wives, our sons and daughters. Until a cure is found, we call on President-Elect Obama to order the internment of all those who suffer from ALPS.
It's for the children.
The McCarthy Park Massacre. All of our readers are, by now, thoroughly familiar with this unfortunate incident. All of our readers know the world of journalism lost Les Nesman in the Massacre. All of our readers know of the call from PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) for a criminal investigation into publishing giant Rampant Loon’s role in the Massacre; a call the editors second most heartily. Despite the immediacy of these stories, they serve only to misdirect attention from the true issue.
What is to be done with those who have contracted Acquired Lycanthropic Polymorphism Syndrome, or ALPS as it is called in the popular press?
The editors are second to none in their compassion for the poor souls who, through no fault of their own, have contracted this dread disease. But compassion must be tempered with caution. Unlike cancer or AIDS, those who suffer from ALPS are a threat to the community around them. We fully understand that these wretched individuals are not to blame for their rampages. We fully understand their bestial alter egos are beyond their control. But we also fully understand the citizens of this city, this state, this country deserve to walk the streets without fear of attack.
Consider the toll paid in the McCarthy Park Massacre:
- Les Nesman, news reporter for NPR station WWSL
- George Sweeny, cameraman for WWSL TV
- Two pedestrians, identities still unknown
- 62 turkeys
- An unknown number of pigeons and squirrels
This toll is too high to pay once, yet similar stories are found in city after city across this great land of ours.
Therefore, the editors call upon the federal government to step forward and take ownership of problem. Until a cure is found, we call upon President-Elect Obama to put an end to the fear and horror. Until a cure is found, we call for a real War on Terror, a war on the terror ALPS brings to communities large and small, rich and poor, urban and rural. Until a cure is found, we call on President-Elect Obama to protect our husbands and wives, our sons and daughters. Until a cure is found, we call on President-Elect Obama to order the internment of all those who suffer from ALPS.
It's for the children.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Rampant Loon's Turkey Surprise!
The following was a live broadcast by WWSL's own Les Nesman, reporting from McCarthy Park:
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Notes from the Annual Thanksgiving Meeting
Henry:
"Greetings, all, and welcome to a very special meeting of the Friends of Lon. For any who haven't heard, we'll be meeting with another support group, the Mexican-American Were-Jaguars Anonymous, at McCarthy Park across from the Rampant Loon world headquarters. I'm told Rampant Loon has some special surprise in store for all of us!Sean:
"Before we leave for the park, I thought it would be a appropriate for each of us to briefly tell the group what we're thankful for. So, who would like to go first?"
"Hey all, this is Sean the were-hyena. It's that time of year again, Thanksgiving. Most of the year I find little to laugh at but there is something about the fall season that I love. I don't know if it the leaves changing color, the longer nights, or the cooler temperatures which means that hobos don't smell as bad and as an added bonus I can usually eat off of one for a few days before they start to turn.Henry:
"Thanksgiving is all about giving thanks, so I thought I would share with my fellow WCA members some things I'm thankful for.
"I'm thankful for my wife and family. I'm thankful for my house. I'm sorta thankful for my job. I'm thankful for the crisp snap of a fresh kidney. I'm thankful that the Adkins fad is ending, I mean everyone knows the real flavor comes from proper marbling. Am I right or what? But most of all I'm thankful for all of you here at the WCA.
"Lon bless and have a great holiday season!"
"That was beautiful, Sean, just beautiful, and I'm sure we can all agree about the importance of proper marbling. Now, who wants to go next?"Shannon:
"Hello friends and fellow were-creatures.Henry:
"Let’s face it. The highlight of Thanksgiving is, and always will be, The Turkey. Who wouldn’t love it, I mean, it’s a holiday that revolves around the slaughter and consumption of a large bird! But for those with ALPS it can be such a depressing time of year. When Grandma calls everyone to the table and places the large, carcass-laden platter in front of Grandpa to carve, I always feel such a sense of let down. It just looks so dead! Aunt Molly oohs and aahs about the beautiful golden color on the thing and I have to pretend I’m excited too… but I’m really thinking how revolting it looks. People spend so much time worrying about not overcooking the turkey so the white meat doesn’t dry out, but they miss the fact that the whole thing’s way too dry if it isn’t still warm and filled with its own pulsating natural juices!
"But you can’t just go out and get your own turkey. Not a live one that you can really sink your teeth into. They have to monopolize the whole process. You have few options other than going to the grocery store and picking up this frozen hunk of dead meat wrapped in plastic. Disgusting.
"That’s why I’m so thrilled about this celebration with all of you who understand what it’s like to feel this way. And I’m so excited about the turkey drop! This year we all get to experience Thanksgiving the way, I feel, it was meant to be celebrated! And best of all, it’s in this controlled environment, so we know no innocent bystanders will be harmed. I think that’s what the “others” are really worried about when they control the holiday anyway. They’re just so blissfully ignorant.
"Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!"
"Thank you, Shannon. That was wonderful. I'm sure we all have childhood memories like that, of the disappointment of finding out that the turkey was already dead and we wouldn't even get to play with the ax. But I think someone here has been tipped off about the little surprise that's been planned for later, and I think maybe we should try to keep it a secret for those who haven't been clued in yet.Hank:
"Okay, who wants to go next?"
"Hi, this Hank the werewolf. Ever since the director suggested each of us get up and tell what we're thankful for, I've been trying to figure out what to say. The problem is that I'm not really thankful for my job. I'm not thankful about the whole situation with Larry the were-bully. And I'm really not thankful for the way us people with ALPS are feared and hated by the normals.Henry:
"But that got me thinking and I realized there are a bunch of things I am thankful for. I'm thankful I found this group. Meetings of the Friends of Lon are high points for me each week. I'm thankful for the friends I've made here. Like Lucrezia, who always brings a different point of view to our meetings. Then there's Miguel, who's going to help me deal with the whole Larry situation and who fixes my computer when I screw it up. And killercutie16 just because she seems to have such a wonderful zest for life. And all the rest of you I haven't gotten to know quite as well, yet.
"Oh yeah, and I'm thankful I got the crap kicked out of me by Summer Glau. Because then she gave me a kiss! Now if I could just find a good script writer to infect with ALPS...
"So, happy Thanksgiving, one and all! Here's hoping you don't have to chase your turkey, bite its head off, rip open its rib cage and feast on its still beating heart!"
"As usual, Hank, I have no idea what to say after listening to you. I'm sure we're all happy you've found friends here in the WCA. And I know I speak for everyone when I say we are all entertained whenever it's your turn to speak!Jim:
"Who's next?"
"Hey, uh, hi... [THUMP THUMP THUMP] is this thing on? Okay, sorry. Seems fine.Henry:
"Uh, well. Okay. Happy Thanksgiving to all of you.
"I have to say, this last year has been, uh, a little tough for me. So, I guess I have to first of all say that I'm thankful for you guys. I'm really amazed by the way I poured my heart out to you, and I wasn't ejected from the group or treated like a freak.
"Most of you know about my, uh, sexual urges. Sorry to all the were-cougar group... I probably shouldn't get into it. But, I have to say, that my tendency to be attracted to dogs and wolves and stuff hasn't kept me from a meaningful relationship with my wife, who's, uh, human, not a dog.
"And seriously, STOP staring at me like that. You in the front row, with the Devo shirt. Stop it!
"Freak.
"Okay, so, anyhow. All that to say, I'm really really thankful for my wife... she's stood by me even through my struggle... even that time at the Bark Park where I saw this smokin' hot doberman an...
"Sorry. Don't look at me like that, people! And Devo Boy - SHRIVEL UP!
"Where was I? Oh yeah. I'm thankful for my wife. She's actually here tonight, for the first time... she doesn't have ALPS, but she came to support me...
"Uh, hon? Anyone see her? Row three... okay, maybe she's in the bathroom or something?
"Paging Carol... paging Carol... okay, fine then! Whatever.
"Happy thanksgiving, folks."
"Okay. I think Jim's words more than speak for themselves.Mike:
So, moving right along, who wants to go next?"
"Hi all. I'm Mike. Maybe you remember when I told the real story behind Little Red Riding Hood? I haven't gotten up to speak since then, just been lending an ear and my support to everyone. But since everyone else is speaking, I thought I ought to, as well.Henry:
"I'm thankful I'm not having any problems dealing with ALPS. No problems I can't handle, anyway. And I'm thankful all of you gave such good feedback after I spoke about my ancestor, Peter Stumpp. I'm thankful all of you could understand and appreciate the problems my long ago ancestor faced.
"I'm also thankful I've learned so much about research while investigating my genealogy. After reading about Peter, I started wondering if any other folk tales and legends might actually be about werewolves, or at least people with ALPS. So I expanded my research and am tracking down a bunch of different stories and legends that are probably werewolf related. So I'm also thankful I'll have an appreciative audience when I present those stories, too.
"Happy Thanksgiving!"
"I don't know about the rest of the group, but I'm looking forward to your next presentation. I certainly enjoyed your more adult version of Little Red Riding Hood, particularly the whole carnal urges bit!Bill and Sharon:
"Have we got anyone else who wants to speak?"
Henry:
(An older middle-aged couple step forward together, holding hands.)
"Hello friends, I'm Bill!"
"And I'm Sharon!"
"So... Sharon... want me to do this?"
"No, Bill... I don't mind sharing."
"Go for it, babe."
(He kisses her on the cheek... the audience "aahs" their approval. She steps in front of the podium.)
"Hello all! A lot of nice things have been said tonight. And, I know you've heard our story before... how we met, fell in love, ate some cops and lived happily ever after.
"Well, it really wasn't all roses and champagne. I have to say, we felt really bad after the cop incident. I had indigestion for a week!"
(laughter from audience)
"Bill and I are a little further along in our lives than many of you. Back when we got ALPS, hardly anyone knew what to do with it. Now we have support groups, and muzzle locks, and all kinds of things that make life a little easier.
"But most of all, we have each other. We don't have to feel alone. I mean golly, girls! Remember how tough it used to be to find a good lycanthrope boy? Almost impossible!
"Bill and I feel strongly that knowledge is power. Awareness has been raised, even though we have a lot further to go. That's why I'm thankful for the many people that care about ALPS, care about how we feel, and allow some of our little foibles to be overlooked.
"Have a howling good Thanksgiving, fellow were-creatures!"
(They both step forward together and throw their heads back.)
"AROOOOOOOOOOO!!!"
"That's so touching. I'm sure the rest of all wish we could as fortunate as you two. I know I'd love to meet that special woman with ALPS like Bill did!Miguel
"Anyone else want to speak?"
"Hi boys and girls... with fangs!Henry:
"So... as most of you know, I just joined this alpo group... oh geez, sorry, uh... ALPS group a little while ago, thanks to my friend Hank, and I want to say how much I really appreciate your acceptance.
"I suppose since I'm a second generation immigrant to this great nation, I should say something about how I'm "thankful to be in America, the land of the free." Well, I am grateful for that, I guess. Though seriously, it's not as free as we think it is. Man, you gotta like get a license to do ANYTHING here. It's like, every little thing requires a paid form and a permission slip. What's up with that?
(silence)
"Okay, well... guess that was off-topic. Sorry. Anyhow, I have to say, I'm thankful for the fact that I finally get to be just who I am. I'm like a minority among minorities here, and you guys are all so friendly and nice. You didn't get on my case about my past, or treat me like I'm second class or anything. I appreciate that a ton. It's like were-Martin were-Luther were-King were-Jr. said, uh, "ask not what you can do for your country..." Never mind, I can't remember what he said. Just that it was something good about equality.
"All right... peace out. If anyone needs some computer work done, give me a ring."
"Thanks, Miguel. We're glad you found us. And the WCA membership secretary wanted me to tell you she really appreciates you getting her computer fixed. He knows his stuff, folks!
"Is there anybody else who wants to speak? Anybody?
"Lucrezia? How about it? Don't shake your head. Come on, you'll be- yipe!
"O-o-o-okay. Lucrezia doesn't want to speak right now. Anyone else?
"No? Okay, then let's head over to the park and join the Mexican-American Were-Jaguars Anonymous group and find out about Rampant Loon's big Thanksgiving surprise!"
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Full Moon On a Cloudy Night
"Hi, I'm Hank. The werewolf. I've been up here a couple of times already and didn't think my turn would come around so fast. But the group director said I should plan on speaking, anyway. He said people always felt better about themselves after listening to me. That made me feel really good 'cause I wasn't sure my stuff was helping at all.
"I had to kind of scramble to figure out something to talk about tonight since I hadn't been thinking about it. Then I remembered something that happened back in college that kind of works with what's been going on in the country lately. So...
"You know I went a long way away for college so I could get away from Larry. He's the bully I accidentally turned into a werewolf in seventh grade. I went all the across the country to Berkeley and the University of California. I really didn't know that much about it before I got there, other than it was supposed to be a really good school and they sometimes had a good football team. Some people think it's silly, but I didn't know it was, like, the most liberal place on the face of the earth!
"I come from South Carolina, which isn't exactly what you'd call a big liberal stronghold. I was kind of libertarian in high school. The right to be left alone, particularly by bullies, really appealed to me. So I was used to being considered the 'liberal' guy. Man, was I in for a shock at Berkley!
"The city was so liberal they set up a reserved parking space right in front of the military recruiting office so protesters wouldn't have to walk so far to bitch and moan about the marines or the army. We just don't do things like that in the South. We've got respect for the people willing to join and serve! So, like I said, I went from being the liberal wacko at home to being some kind of right wing nut case at college. That's why I ended up making friends with a bunch of the Republicans on campus. I mean, what choice did I have?
"It was an overcast, chilly day in February, my freshman year, that it happened. I'd gone out with some of the buddies from the College Republicans to help put up signs for an appearance by Ann Coulter. I didn't really know much about her back then except she looked really hot and my friends said she was a real political smart ass. The posters all had a picture of Ann on them, plus the guys were going out for beer afterward. That's why I agreed to help.
"So, we spent a couple of hours putting signs up all over campus and were heading back for the beer when we saw them. It was some of the really big pain-in-the-ass, really far left wing guys who were always trying to break up the Republican meetings. They were coming along behind us and tearing down all the posters we had just put up! Man, that just pissed us off no end!
"They saw us about that time and just pointed and laughed at us. Called us a bunch of Hitler youth, ragged on us for being so intolerant and that sort of stuff.
"One of my buddies said, 'You know we can report you for all of this. You're taking down our signs, using hate speech and being intolerant.'
"This really fat guy who was sort of the groups leader said, 'You mean we're acting like Republicans?'
"I couldn't stand that guy. He was always so smug and superior. So I said, 'They have never taken down your signs! They don't call you communists or any other names. And they never try to shout you down when you're offering your stupid opinions like you do to them!'
"He just laughed, 'Why wouldn't we shout them down? We're the most tolerant people on earth and we can't just stand by and let people like you ruin that!'
"I just stared at him. 'Guys, we can't talk to morons like him. Let's just kick their asses and make them put the signs back up.'
"I know I sound pretty brave and all, but I knew I had an advantage on those guys. I could just unleash a bit of the ALPS and beat the crap out of them without any problem. But my friends didn't know that and there were more of them than us. So they hemmed and hawed a bit. And that's when it all went wrong.
"The fat guy shouted, 'You're going to kick my ass? My ass is way too big for a wimp like you to kick! See?'
"Then the fat guy turned around, dropped his pants and stuck his big ass out at us. The light from an outdoor lamp hit it just right and all I could see what a big, full moon in front of me. I couldn't help it. I transformed and totally lost control. It was lucky for the other guys that they were with fatty. I got so full devouring him that I didn't even bother to chase them. Of course, all that blood ruined the Ann Coulter posters, too.
"Well you can guess what happened next. I got called up before the administrators for it. Fortunately, my parents paid for a really good lawyer who claimed that mooning a person with ALPS could reasonably be considered hate speech. The college agreed to hush up the whole thing and drop all charges if I transferred to another college immediately. I decided I'd better get back to the South, but not too close to home. So I transferred to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.
"That didn't work out so well, either, but that's another story."
"I had to kind of scramble to figure out something to talk about tonight since I hadn't been thinking about it. Then I remembered something that happened back in college that kind of works with what's been going on in the country lately. So...
"You know I went a long way away for college so I could get away from Larry. He's the bully I accidentally turned into a werewolf in seventh grade. I went all the across the country to Berkeley and the University of California. I really didn't know that much about it before I got there, other than it was supposed to be a really good school and they sometimes had a good football team. Some people think it's silly, but I didn't know it was, like, the most liberal place on the face of the earth!
"I come from South Carolina, which isn't exactly what you'd call a big liberal stronghold. I was kind of libertarian in high school. The right to be left alone, particularly by bullies, really appealed to me. So I was used to being considered the 'liberal' guy. Man, was I in for a shock at Berkley!
"The city was so liberal they set up a reserved parking space right in front of the military recruiting office so protesters wouldn't have to walk so far to bitch and moan about the marines or the army. We just don't do things like that in the South. We've got respect for the people willing to join and serve! So, like I said, I went from being the liberal wacko at home to being some kind of right wing nut case at college. That's why I ended up making friends with a bunch of the Republicans on campus. I mean, what choice did I have?
"It was an overcast, chilly day in February, my freshman year, that it happened. I'd gone out with some of the buddies from the College Republicans to help put up signs for an appearance by Ann Coulter. I didn't really know much about her back then except she looked really hot and my friends said she was a real political smart ass. The posters all had a picture of Ann on them, plus the guys were going out for beer afterward. That's why I agreed to help.
"So, we spent a couple of hours putting signs up all over campus and were heading back for the beer when we saw them. It was some of the really big pain-in-the-ass, really far left wing guys who were always trying to break up the Republican meetings. They were coming along behind us and tearing down all the posters we had just put up! Man, that just pissed us off no end!
"They saw us about that time and just pointed and laughed at us. Called us a bunch of Hitler youth, ragged on us for being so intolerant and that sort of stuff.
"One of my buddies said, 'You know we can report you for all of this. You're taking down our signs, using hate speech and being intolerant.'
"This really fat guy who was sort of the groups leader said, 'You mean we're acting like Republicans?'
"I couldn't stand that guy. He was always so smug and superior. So I said, 'They have never taken down your signs! They don't call you communists or any other names. And they never try to shout you down when you're offering your stupid opinions like you do to them!'
"He just laughed, 'Why wouldn't we shout them down? We're the most tolerant people on earth and we can't just stand by and let people like you ruin that!'
"I just stared at him. 'Guys, we can't talk to morons like him. Let's just kick their asses and make them put the signs back up.'
"I know I sound pretty brave and all, but I knew I had an advantage on those guys. I could just unleash a bit of the ALPS and beat the crap out of them without any problem. But my friends didn't know that and there were more of them than us. So they hemmed and hawed a bit. And that's when it all went wrong.
"The fat guy shouted, 'You're going to kick my ass? My ass is way too big for a wimp like you to kick! See?'
"Then the fat guy turned around, dropped his pants and stuck his big ass out at us. The light from an outdoor lamp hit it just right and all I could see what a big, full moon in front of me. I couldn't help it. I transformed and totally lost control. It was lucky for the other guys that they were with fatty. I got so full devouring him that I didn't even bother to chase them. Of course, all that blood ruined the Ann Coulter posters, too.
"Well you can guess what happened next. I got called up before the administrators for it. Fortunately, my parents paid for a really good lawyer who claimed that mooning a person with ALPS could reasonably be considered hate speech. The college agreed to hush up the whole thing and drop all charges if I transferred to another college immediately. I decided I'd better get back to the South, but not too close to home. So I transferred to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.
"That didn't work out so well, either, but that's another story."
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Werechat II: The Plan
Hank: Miguel? You there?
Miguel: hey man
Hank: What did you think of the group meeting? Going to come back to the next one?
Miguel: maybe
Hank: Only maybe? Why?
Miguel: well... i'm a bit afraid of possible consequences
Miguel: i really spilled it, you know
Hank: Dude, you were nothing compared to what some people spilled!
Miguel: oh yeah?
Hank: One guy's got this thing for dogs now!
Hank: In a perverted way
Miguel: oh geez. like all dogs? or just cute ones?
Miguel: j/k
Hank: I don't think he cares.
Miguel: why would anyone share something like that?
Hank: And one guy told about how he and his fiance ripped apart a couple of mean deputies.
Miguel: dude!!!
Miguel: copkillers!
Hank: People like us have to let this stuff out!
Hank: Nah, the cops were being total dicks.
Miguel: maybe it would be better to keep it all in
Miguel: ah, thats normal
Miguel: for cops
Hank: And let it fester and and then you get even worse. It's a psycological fact!
Miguel: well... i dont know about that. but there is one reason to go back, i guess. maybe
Hank: You've got to have what the shrinks call an outlet or you'll go crazy!
Miguel: okay
Hank: Oh ho! And who is the one reason to go back?
Miguel: not you, of course
Hank: Better not be!
Miguel: but... that lady
Miguel: lucy?
Hank: Lucrezia?
Miguel: a longer name... starts w - yes! that's it
Miguel: kind of scary
Hank: Yeah, she's hot, isn't she?
Miguel: hot and scary, had nice clogs on, i notiecd
Hank: You got a thing about feet?
Miguel: no
Hank: Uh huh.
Miguel: i said no... just drop it
Hank: Ok. Dropping it. Geez!
Miguel: so... change subject... why do you care if i go back?
Miguel: really worried about my mental helth?
Hank: Sure.
Miguel: right
Hank: It looks bad for all of us if one of us goes crazy.
Miguel: you probably want to corner me and talk about spyware problems your having
Hank: Nope. You had me setup that scanner thing and it's doing okay.
Miguel: hard to mess up.
Hank: This is more about bullies and stuff. Like what you ran into as a kid. I had trouble with bullies, too.
Miguel: so... you dont want a rough alpo, then?
Miguel: *rogue
Miguel: okay
Hank: Dude, I TOLD you to STOP with the alpo bit!
Miguel: sorry lol
Hank: So anyway, I first found out I had ALPS when this kid was bullying me back in seventh grade.
Miguel: that sucks
Hank: His name was Larry and he had his own little gang.
Hank: Yeah, it did.
Miguel: tough guys always have their "little gangs"
Miguel: not so tough alone
Hank: Larry and his gang were trying to beat the crap out of me when I transformed for the first time.
Hank: I wouldn't know about that.
Miguel: and whipped them???
Hank: Worse, I bit them but didn't kill them.
Miguel: so you gave them alps?
Hank: Yeah. And Larry was the alpha.
Miguel: serves them right
Miguel: what did he get then?
Miguel: badger?
Hank: They were all werewolves like me.
Hank: But since Larry was alpha, I had to join his stupid pack.
Miguel: oh! thats right - my bad
Miguel: werewolf strain
Miguel: no you didn't!
Hank: And he made my life a living Hell until I got away by going across the country to college.
Miguel: lone wolf hank
Hank: Not as easy as you think, dude. Particularly when you've got seven or eight other wolves forcing you into the pack.
Miguel: you must have it bad. sometimes i hear the calls... but i can usually lock myself inside
Miguel: dont tell anyone
Hank: Larry's the guy I'd like to shoot with a dart gun filled with ALPS cure.
Miguel: then what... tear open his ribcage???
Hank: Oh yeah.
Miguel: geez
Hank: Or maybe just scare the crap out of him once he sees I'm in charge?
Miguel: thats better
Miguel: killing on acident is one thing. purpose is another
Hank: But the cure isn't out there yet so I've got another plan.
Miguel: go for it
Hank: Larry still runs his little gang down in South Carolina. That's where I grew up.
Miguel: okay
Hank: I figure I just need to show up with my own gang. A gang of good weres to take on Larry and his pack.
Miguel: like a micheal jackson video!
Hank: Probalby not.
Miguel: arooooooo!
Hank: I can't dance worth a darn.
Miguel: oh
Miguel: me either
Hank: Problem is I can't get anyone else in the group to join my gang of good guys.
Miguel: there probably thinking the same thing as me
Miguel: bad idea
Miguel: not worth it
Hank: I was hoping you'd join and others would follow.
Hank: What's wrong with the idea?
Miguel: why would i want to join?
Miguel: what about getting arrested???
Hank: Nah. Nobody likes Larry back at home. The cops would be glad he got his butt whupped.
Hank: Trust me.
Miguel: okay. but who would want to help? i dont have a gruge!
Hank: We're a support group! Don't you think you should support me in my hour of need?
Hank: I'd do the same for you!
Hank: Really.
Hank: I would.
Miguel: i appreciate it... but
Hank: But?
Miguel: not much for fighting
Hank: Ah, man. I'm never going to get my gang...
Miguel: well..
Hank: Yeah?
Miguel: promise me you wont go alone
Miguel: sounds dangerous
Hank: I never go home for that reason. My family comes up here to visit me, instead.
Miguel: thats just sad
Hank: I had to sneak out of town just to go to college.
Hank: So you won't join me gang of good weres?
Miguel: what if you beat him? will the others follow?
Hank: Sure. If you beat the alpha you become the alpha.
Miguel: you just need to beat him then
Miguel: alone
Hank: I don't know... I never could before and I bet he's still as mean and strong and stupid as ever!
Miguel: you need a delilah
Hank: A what?
Miguel: delilah. chick in the good book
Miguel: tricked samson
Miguel: made him weak and the enemies got him
Hank: I don't know what a chick could cut off of him that would let me kick his butt, though.
Miguel: i just think you need a trap, not a gang
Miguel: why am i helping you!!!
Hank: Cause you're my friend?
Miguel: your just sad
Hank: A trap. Hm...
Miguel: yes, im your friend
Miguel: ha ha ha hA HA HAHA!
Hank: I got to think on the trap idea for a while.
Miguel: i got it for you
Miguel: hence that laughter
Hank: Yeah?
Miguel: im delilah
Miguel: hee hee hee
Hank: You're not a cross dresser are you?
Miguel: no
Miguel: but on the net you can be anything
Hank: Oh!
Miguel: get my idea?
Hank: Yeah! Assuming Larry's smart enough to even use a computer.
Miguel: probably... not everyone has your problems.
Miguel: j/k
Hank: So you'll set up a rendezvous with him to lure him away from his pack then I kick his butt from an ambush?
Miguel: it could work
Miguel: i dont know if i want to be involved but it is a very fun idea
Hank: Yeah, it just might.
Miguel: listen... if you offer me something really good, ill help you
Hank: Glad you didn't suggest using Lucrezia as the Delilah cause she'd probably rip open both our rib cages!
Miguel: im low on work.
Miguel: ha ha ha ha ha
Miguel: i dont want her falling for anyone
Hank: What kind of work do you usually do?
Miguel: other than computers... sometimes fix other sutff
Hank: She wouldn't fall for Larry. She's got to have better taste than that!
Hank: Cars?
Miguel: girls like bad guys
Miguel: sure
Miguel: cars are easy
Hank: Yeah, but girls don't like morons.
Hank: At least smart girls don't.
Miguel: not good at chips and stuff, but classics are a breeze
Miguel: sometimes they dont realize until its too late
Hank: OK, let me check with my boss at the used car lot tomorrow. He's always moaning and groaning about the cost of fixing up some of the cars we get.
Miguel: okay
Miguel: get me a regular job and ill set the bait
Miguel: but i dont want to fight
Miguel: seriously
Hank: Deal.
Miguel: deal
Hank: I'll call you tomorrow once I talk to the boss.
Miguel: sounds fine. think lucrazia will be at the next meeting?
Hank: She never misses.
Miguel: cool. better go... ill see you then
Hank: OK. Cya
Miguel: later
Miguel: hey man
Hank: What did you think of the group meeting? Going to come back to the next one?
Miguel: maybe
Hank: Only maybe? Why?
Miguel: well... i'm a bit afraid of possible consequences
Miguel: i really spilled it, you know
Hank: Dude, you were nothing compared to what some people spilled!
Miguel: oh yeah?
Hank: One guy's got this thing for dogs now!
Hank: In a perverted way
Miguel: oh geez. like all dogs? or just cute ones?
Miguel: j/k
Hank: I don't think he cares.
Miguel: why would anyone share something like that?
Hank: And one guy told about how he and his fiance ripped apart a couple of mean deputies.
Miguel: dude!!!
Miguel: copkillers!
Hank: People like us have to let this stuff out!
Hank: Nah, the cops were being total dicks.
Miguel: maybe it would be better to keep it all in
Miguel: ah, thats normal
Miguel: for cops
Hank: And let it fester and and then you get even worse. It's a psycological fact!
Miguel: well... i dont know about that. but there is one reason to go back, i guess. maybe
Hank: You've got to have what the shrinks call an outlet or you'll go crazy!
Miguel: okay
Hank: Oh ho! And who is the one reason to go back?
Miguel: not you, of course
Hank: Better not be!
Miguel: but... that lady
Miguel: lucy?
Hank: Lucrezia?
Miguel: a longer name... starts w - yes! that's it
Miguel: kind of scary
Hank: Yeah, she's hot, isn't she?
Miguel: hot and scary, had nice clogs on, i notiecd
Hank: You got a thing about feet?
Miguel: no
Hank: Uh huh.
Miguel: i said no... just drop it
Hank: Ok. Dropping it. Geez!
Miguel: so... change subject... why do you care if i go back?
Miguel: really worried about my mental helth?
Hank: Sure.
Miguel: right
Hank: It looks bad for all of us if one of us goes crazy.
Miguel: you probably want to corner me and talk about spyware problems your having
Hank: Nope. You had me setup that scanner thing and it's doing okay.
Miguel: hard to mess up.
Hank: This is more about bullies and stuff. Like what you ran into as a kid. I had trouble with bullies, too.
Miguel: so... you dont want a rough alpo, then?
Miguel: *rogue
Miguel: okay
Hank: Dude, I TOLD you to STOP with the alpo bit!
Miguel: sorry lol
Hank: So anyway, I first found out I had ALPS when this kid was bullying me back in seventh grade.
Miguel: that sucks
Hank: His name was Larry and he had his own little gang.
Hank: Yeah, it did.
Miguel: tough guys always have their "little gangs"
Miguel: not so tough alone
Hank: Larry and his gang were trying to beat the crap out of me when I transformed for the first time.
Hank: I wouldn't know about that.
Miguel: and whipped them???
Hank: Worse, I bit them but didn't kill them.
Miguel: so you gave them alps?
Hank: Yeah. And Larry was the alpha.
Miguel: serves them right
Miguel: what did he get then?
Miguel: badger?
Hank: They were all werewolves like me.
Hank: But since Larry was alpha, I had to join his stupid pack.
Miguel: oh! thats right - my bad
Miguel: werewolf strain
Miguel: no you didn't!
Hank: And he made my life a living Hell until I got away by going across the country to college.
Miguel: lone wolf hank
Hank: Not as easy as you think, dude. Particularly when you've got seven or eight other wolves forcing you into the pack.
Miguel: you must have it bad. sometimes i hear the calls... but i can usually lock myself inside
Miguel: dont tell anyone
Hank: Larry's the guy I'd like to shoot with a dart gun filled with ALPS cure.
Miguel: then what... tear open his ribcage???
Hank: Oh yeah.
Miguel: geez
Hank: Or maybe just scare the crap out of him once he sees I'm in charge?
Miguel: thats better
Miguel: killing on acident is one thing. purpose is another
Hank: But the cure isn't out there yet so I've got another plan.
Miguel: go for it
Hank: Larry still runs his little gang down in South Carolina. That's where I grew up.
Miguel: okay
Hank: I figure I just need to show up with my own gang. A gang of good weres to take on Larry and his pack.
Miguel: like a micheal jackson video!
Hank: Probalby not.
Miguel: arooooooo!
Hank: I can't dance worth a darn.
Miguel: oh
Miguel: me either
Hank: Problem is I can't get anyone else in the group to join my gang of good guys.
Miguel: there probably thinking the same thing as me
Miguel: bad idea
Miguel: not worth it
Hank: I was hoping you'd join and others would follow.
Hank: What's wrong with the idea?
Miguel: why would i want to join?
Miguel: what about getting arrested???
Hank: Nah. Nobody likes Larry back at home. The cops would be glad he got his butt whupped.
Hank: Trust me.
Miguel: okay. but who would want to help? i dont have a gruge!
Hank: We're a support group! Don't you think you should support me in my hour of need?
Hank: I'd do the same for you!
Hank: Really.
Hank: I would.
Miguel: i appreciate it... but
Hank: But?
Miguel: not much for fighting
Hank: Ah, man. I'm never going to get my gang...
Miguel: well..
Hank: Yeah?
Miguel: promise me you wont go alone
Miguel: sounds dangerous
Hank: I never go home for that reason. My family comes up here to visit me, instead.
Miguel: thats just sad
Hank: I had to sneak out of town just to go to college.
Hank: So you won't join me gang of good weres?
Miguel: what if you beat him? will the others follow?
Hank: Sure. If you beat the alpha you become the alpha.
Miguel: you just need to beat him then
Miguel: alone
Hank: I don't know... I never could before and I bet he's still as mean and strong and stupid as ever!
Miguel: you need a delilah
Hank: A what?
Miguel: delilah. chick in the good book
Miguel: tricked samson
Miguel: made him weak and the enemies got him
Hank: I don't know what a chick could cut off of him that would let me kick his butt, though.
Miguel: i just think you need a trap, not a gang
Miguel: why am i helping you!!!
Hank: Cause you're my friend?
Miguel: your just sad
Hank: A trap. Hm...
Miguel: yes, im your friend
Miguel: ha ha ha hA HA HAHA!
Hank: I got to think on the trap idea for a while.
Miguel: i got it for you
Miguel: hence that laughter
Hank: Yeah?
Miguel: im delilah
Miguel: hee hee hee
Hank: You're not a cross dresser are you?
Miguel: no
Miguel: but on the net you can be anything
Hank: Oh!
Miguel: get my idea?
Hank: Yeah! Assuming Larry's smart enough to even use a computer.
Miguel: probably... not everyone has your problems.
Miguel: j/k
Hank: So you'll set up a rendezvous with him to lure him away from his pack then I kick his butt from an ambush?
Miguel: it could work
Miguel: i dont know if i want to be involved but it is a very fun idea
Hank: Yeah, it just might.
Miguel: listen... if you offer me something really good, ill help you
Hank: Glad you didn't suggest using Lucrezia as the Delilah cause she'd probably rip open both our rib cages!
Miguel: im low on work.
Miguel: ha ha ha ha ha
Miguel: i dont want her falling for anyone
Hank: What kind of work do you usually do?
Miguel: other than computers... sometimes fix other sutff
Hank: She wouldn't fall for Larry. She's got to have better taste than that!
Hank: Cars?
Miguel: girls like bad guys
Miguel: sure
Miguel: cars are easy
Hank: Yeah, but girls don't like morons.
Hank: At least smart girls don't.
Miguel: not good at chips and stuff, but classics are a breeze
Miguel: sometimes they dont realize until its too late
Hank: OK, let me check with my boss at the used car lot tomorrow. He's always moaning and groaning about the cost of fixing up some of the cars we get.
Miguel: okay
Miguel: get me a regular job and ill set the bait
Miguel: but i dont want to fight
Miguel: seriously
Hank: Deal.
Miguel: deal
Hank: I'll call you tomorrow once I talk to the boss.
Miguel: sounds fine. think lucrazia will be at the next meeting?
Hank: She never misses.
Miguel: cool. better go... ill see you then
Hank: OK. Cya
Miguel: later
Sunday, November 2, 2008
[A tall, lanky man, elderly and walking with a cane, moves slowly toward a lectern toward the front and on the left side of the room. His thin, graying hair pulled back in a ponytail seems incongruous with his pressed suit and neatly trimmed Van Dyke. Even with the lectern toward the middle of the room is a table with a slide projector, the bright light shining on the screen hanging down the wall at the front of the room and washing out the pale features of another man sitting off to the side of the table. The pale man's hand lightly holds a box with a cord attached leading back to the projector, and a bucket sits on the floor beside him.]
[Reaching the lectern, the tall man tentatively clears his throat and begins to speak.]
Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen. My name is Graham Stewart, and the gentleman operating the slide projector is my colleague Roger Adams. We are from the British Royal Institute for ALPS Research, or BRIAR. Our main offices are located at Lancaster Gate in London, which we call BRIARGATE. Thank you all for granting us time for this little presentation. It's actually rather short, and I'll be happy to answer any of your questions at the end of it.
Roger, first slide, please?
[Slide: ALPS = Acquired Lycanthropic Polymorphism Syndrome]
ALPS, as you all well know, is an acronym for Acquired Lycanthropic Polymorphism Syndrome. But what does that long string of fancy academic words actually mean?
Next slide, please.
[Slide: ACQUIRED: Contracted, not inherited]
'Acquired' means you catch it. It isn't genetically inherited. ALPS babies are only infected during gestation through their mother's blood via the placenta, or during delivery whilst travelling through the birth canal. As of yet, we have encountered no cases where the virus was passed through mother’s milk. And the only strain of ALPS that a baby can have at birth is the same as that of the mother.
At least, that's what we used to think. More on this, later.
The other means of acquiring ALPS, as most of you are aware, is through direct contact with the bodily fluid of someone with ALPS. This is most frequently passed through saliva imparted by the non-fatal bite of a lycanthrope in animal form.
Next slide, please.
[Slide: LYCANTHROPIC (and other forms of shapeshifting)]
'Lycanthropic' is simply a noun modifier, to differentiate this type of shapeshifting from all others. It derives from the Greek lycos, meaning wolf, and anthropos, meaning man; literally, wolf-man. Though originally coined to describe the first known ALPS variant -- the werewolf -- it now commonly refers to all variants involving animal change (which is more properly termed 'therianthropy'), and distinguishes this type of polymorphism from the other types like Dopplegangerene, Vegetosis, Inanimania, and Blobulism.
Next slide, please.
[Slide: POLYMORPISM = SHAPESHIFTING]
'Polymorphism', again from the Greek polys, meaning many, and morphos, meaning form, is the ability to alter one's shape or appearance. In ALPS victims, this change is widely varied in both species and scope. What began with a werewolf mutated into different strains which gradually encompassed a myriad of mammalian forms including the weretiger, the werebear, and even the wereseal. Now, we are even finding an ever expanding array of non-mammalian strains; in fact, Roger, here, is a very rare werejelly. And some unfortunate individuals don’t ever develop the ability to control their changes, or even the ability to recover their human forms at all.
Next slide, Roger.
[Slide: SYNDROME: Fancy word for disease]
And finally, 'Syndrome'. In medical parlance, this word is often used to group sometimes widely varying symptoms that are yet indicative of a single disease. And when you think about it, you probably can't get any more different than the symptoms displayed by a werewolf and those of a wereslug, can you?
Next slide, please.
[Slide: History -- When And Where Did ALPS Originate?]
There is no scientific consensus on when or where the first case of lycanthropy arose. Legends, myths, and tales abound from cultures all over the world, from the weretigers of India to the werejaguars of the Amazon, and werewolves appear in records all over the world. Unfortunately, there is no clear indication of which ones were actually early cases of ALPS, and which ones may have been copycat stories passed along amongst ancient travelers. But using genetic regression, we can narrow the 'when' to approximately 3,000 years ago.
Next slide, please.
[Slide: How did ALPS originate?]
Probably the most significant finding by ALPS researchers to date is that ALPS is caused by a wildly mutating virus, one which carries with it portions of the DNA of other species. When infecting a new host, the virus rapidly propagates itself throughout the new system and subtly alters its genetic composition to incorporate whichever strain of the virus it carries. This infection can typically take up to a month, and the virus is most strenuously active during the full moon phase. The exact cause of this relationship is not know, but speculation is that reflected moonlight carries with it some additional radiation in the non-visible spectrum from reflected moon-rocks, that has either a strengthening or irritating effect on the virus.
While it is pure conjecture at this point, the genetic evidence seems to indicate that the original strain of this virus spliced small amounts of wolf DNA into a woman, possibly as the result of a bite…though the origin of the virus itself is unknown. We are fairly sure it was a woman, however, as that would have been the most likely way it would have become established and propagated to subsequent generations. Researchers have named this hypothetical Were-Eve, 'Leto', after the Greek goddess and mother of Apollo and Artemis, who turned herself into a wolf to evade Hera.
Sometimes, a particular strain is so virulent that it will even overthrow a previous ALPS infection, killing off the weaker form and taking its place. This is how a weretigress bitten by a werewolf can give birth to a lupic child rather than passing along her own variant, as happened in one of our latest case studies.
Ironically, this particular trait of the virus holds out the best hope for a cure to ALPS researchers. If we can replace more active strains with something more passive, or even totally innocuous, we hope to make monthly moonlit rampages a thing of the past. ALPS will become no more frightening – or deadly -- to the public than warts.
Next slide, Roger, please.
[Slide: What about non-wolves?]
But how did the original lycanthropic strain turn into all the other forms of ALPS which have manifested? Well, this is where our latest research efforts have been focused. It appears that the ALPS virus can also be passed along at birth without the accompanying animal DNA. Subsequent introduction of animal DNA at a later point in the person's life can occasionally activate the splicing mechanism. That is how Roger developed his variant; whilst swimming off the coast of his native Australia a few years ago, he was stung by an Irukandji jellyfish. Though his mother was a werehyena, the next full moon brought about a decidedly different change and he was lucky to have been able to fill a tub before it completed. Now he can control it with some effort, but he still carries a bucket with him for the occasional lapse. Unfortunately, the need to control his temper to avoid an involuntary transform has left him a bit of a spineless wimp. The "bite off his head, tear open his ribcage, and feast on his still-beating heart' is a bit of a cliché for ALPSies like him. For them, "fume silently" is a bit more par for the course.
Lights, please, Roger.
[Roger shuffles over to the wall switch, head bowed, and flips it up before shuffling back to his seat.]
Now, are there any questions?
- Written by Waterboy, posted by Henry
[Reaching the lectern, the tall man tentatively clears his throat and begins to speak.]
Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen. My name is Graham Stewart, and the gentleman operating the slide projector is my colleague Roger Adams. We are from the British Royal Institute for ALPS Research, or BRIAR. Our main offices are located at Lancaster Gate in London, which we call BRIARGATE. Thank you all for granting us time for this little presentation. It's actually rather short, and I'll be happy to answer any of your questions at the end of it.
Roger, first slide, please?
[Slide: ALPS = Acquired Lycanthropic Polymorphism Syndrome]
ALPS, as you all well know, is an acronym for Acquired Lycanthropic Polymorphism Syndrome. But what does that long string of fancy academic words actually mean?
Next slide, please.
[Slide: ACQUIRED: Contracted, not inherited]
'Acquired' means you catch it. It isn't genetically inherited. ALPS babies are only infected during gestation through their mother's blood via the placenta, or during delivery whilst travelling through the birth canal. As of yet, we have encountered no cases where the virus was passed through mother’s milk. And the only strain of ALPS that a baby can have at birth is the same as that of the mother.
At least, that's what we used to think. More on this, later.
The other means of acquiring ALPS, as most of you are aware, is through direct contact with the bodily fluid of someone with ALPS. This is most frequently passed through saliva imparted by the non-fatal bite of a lycanthrope in animal form.
Next slide, please.
[Slide: LYCANTHROPIC (and other forms of shapeshifting)]
'Lycanthropic' is simply a noun modifier, to differentiate this type of shapeshifting from all others. It derives from the Greek lycos, meaning wolf, and anthropos, meaning man; literally, wolf-man. Though originally coined to describe the first known ALPS variant -- the werewolf -- it now commonly refers to all variants involving animal change (which is more properly termed 'therianthropy'), and distinguishes this type of polymorphism from the other types like Dopplegangerene, Vegetosis, Inanimania, and Blobulism.
Next slide, please.
[Slide: POLYMORPISM = SHAPESHIFTING]
'Polymorphism', again from the Greek polys, meaning many, and morphos, meaning form, is the ability to alter one's shape or appearance. In ALPS victims, this change is widely varied in both species and scope. What began with a werewolf mutated into different strains which gradually encompassed a myriad of mammalian forms including the weretiger, the werebear, and even the wereseal. Now, we are even finding an ever expanding array of non-mammalian strains; in fact, Roger, here, is a very rare werejelly. And some unfortunate individuals don’t ever develop the ability to control their changes, or even the ability to recover their human forms at all.
Next slide, Roger.
[Slide: SYNDROME: Fancy word for disease]
And finally, 'Syndrome'. In medical parlance, this word is often used to group sometimes widely varying symptoms that are yet indicative of a single disease. And when you think about it, you probably can't get any more different than the symptoms displayed by a werewolf and those of a wereslug, can you?
Next slide, please.
[Slide: History -- When And Where Did ALPS Originate?]
There is no scientific consensus on when or where the first case of lycanthropy arose. Legends, myths, and tales abound from cultures all over the world, from the weretigers of India to the werejaguars of the Amazon, and werewolves appear in records all over the world. Unfortunately, there is no clear indication of which ones were actually early cases of ALPS, and which ones may have been copycat stories passed along amongst ancient travelers. But using genetic regression, we can narrow the 'when' to approximately 3,000 years ago.
Next slide, please.
[Slide: How did ALPS originate?]
Probably the most significant finding by ALPS researchers to date is that ALPS is caused by a wildly mutating virus, one which carries with it portions of the DNA of other species. When infecting a new host, the virus rapidly propagates itself throughout the new system and subtly alters its genetic composition to incorporate whichever strain of the virus it carries. This infection can typically take up to a month, and the virus is most strenuously active during the full moon phase. The exact cause of this relationship is not know, but speculation is that reflected moonlight carries with it some additional radiation in the non-visible spectrum from reflected moon-rocks, that has either a strengthening or irritating effect on the virus.
While it is pure conjecture at this point, the genetic evidence seems to indicate that the original strain of this virus spliced small amounts of wolf DNA into a woman, possibly as the result of a bite…though the origin of the virus itself is unknown. We are fairly sure it was a woman, however, as that would have been the most likely way it would have become established and propagated to subsequent generations. Researchers have named this hypothetical Were-Eve, 'Leto', after the Greek goddess and mother of Apollo and Artemis, who turned herself into a wolf to evade Hera.
Sometimes, a particular strain is so virulent that it will even overthrow a previous ALPS infection, killing off the weaker form and taking its place. This is how a weretigress bitten by a werewolf can give birth to a lupic child rather than passing along her own variant, as happened in one of our latest case studies.
Ironically, this particular trait of the virus holds out the best hope for a cure to ALPS researchers. If we can replace more active strains with something more passive, or even totally innocuous, we hope to make monthly moonlit rampages a thing of the past. ALPS will become no more frightening – or deadly -- to the public than warts.
Next slide, Roger, please.
[Slide: What about non-wolves?]
But how did the original lycanthropic strain turn into all the other forms of ALPS which have manifested? Well, this is where our latest research efforts have been focused. It appears that the ALPS virus can also be passed along at birth without the accompanying animal DNA. Subsequent introduction of animal DNA at a later point in the person's life can occasionally activate the splicing mechanism. That is how Roger developed his variant; whilst swimming off the coast of his native Australia a few years ago, he was stung by an Irukandji jellyfish. Though his mother was a werehyena, the next full moon brought about a decidedly different change and he was lucky to have been able to fill a tub before it completed. Now he can control it with some effort, but he still carries a bucket with him for the occasional lapse. Unfortunately, the need to control his temper to avoid an involuntary transform has left him a bit of a spineless wimp. The "bite off his head, tear open his ribcage, and feast on his still-beating heart' is a bit of a cliché for ALPSies like him. For them, "fume silently" is a bit more par for the course.
Lights, please, Roger.
[Roger shuffles over to the wall switch, head bowed, and flips it up before shuffling back to his seat.]
Now, are there any questions?
- Written by Waterboy, posted by Henry
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Miguel's Tale
Hi, my name is Miguel, and I’m an alcoholic.
(EVERYONE: Whaaa…?)
Just kidding. I’m actually a were-wolf.
(Sighs of relief.)
Yeah, so… I don’t know why I’m here, so… uh… what am I supposed to do next?
(HANK: Tell your story!)
Ah yeah, makes sense. Thanks, Hank. So, okay… I guess I'm a were-wolf. Been that way for maybe ten years. I think I got ALPS from another kid I used to skateboard with. We got in a fight over who had the better moves… and he suddenly went all animalistic and bit me. Of course, I had broken his board first, so it was probably justified. But I didn’t know what I’d gotten into until a couple of weeks later.
See, I came from Texas before I moved here unexpectedly. Always a little bit of funky race relations issues there, you know, between the natives and the immigrants. And even though I’m legal… hey, I’ve still got the Mexicano roots, so it’s an easy mistake. Anyhow, let’s just say I got tagged as something I’m not.
Normally, when I see trouble, I avoid it. I don’t care to fight. Live and let live, you know? But this time wasn’t good. I was walking home from high-school. On the way, there’s a rough neighborhood. One of those lower-middle-class mixed neighborhoods where a lot of punks are looking to fight. And I happened to be there.
There were probably eight kids. Two black guys and maybe six gringos. One of 'em yells “Hey wetback!” And I’m like… whatever. Sticks and stones. So I keep walking. And they’re like, “Yeah, you! Why aren’t you mowing a lawn or something?”
Still… whatever. I kept walking.
Then I got hit with a rock. Don’t know who threw it… but I just wanted to get home. I’m walking fast, but the kids aren’t going to let me go. No adults around… and nothing I can use as a weapon. Like anything would help much against all those kids. Most of them bigger than me. So… I look for an escape. Nothing. There’s a tall fence on one side, apartment wall on the other. The kids are on the other sidewalk, now walking across the street, yelling stupid stuff. I finally turn around. There’s not a good exit from this, so might as well get in some licks, you know? So, I’m like "Hey! Leave off! I’m just going home. Go kick a dog or something!"
Then the biggest one, this stupid-looking meathead, is like, “Maybe we’ll kick you.”
Which is, of course, what I figured they were going to do. So now they’re all around me in a circle, right… I know I can’t get away. So I’m like, “Why don’t you all just calm down. I didn’t do anything to you. And besides, this isn’t a fair fight! Eight to one?”
The one guy shoves me. I play cool, don’t hit back, thinking… man I don’t want a one-sided fight like this. Then another kid jumps on my back from behind – and the jerk that shoved me tries to kick me in the nuts.
And that’s when it happened.
Like lightning, I’ve snapped around and I got this kid’s neck in my teeth… and I clamp down and grind and then I feel his spine start to… uh… wait a second.
You know, I’ve probably said enough. Uh… I just got into the story, you know? I really didn’t, uh, bite anyone…
(AFFIRMATIONS FROM GROUP: It’s okay… we’ve all been there. You can go on… this is a tolerant group! No one’s going to turn you in!)
Yeah, well… I’m not proud of what I did… I don’t know if I want to glorify it.
(FEMALE VOICE: Getting your past out into the open is the first step to healing!)
I don’t know if I need to be healed.
(HANK: Just tell them your story, dammit! It was getting interesting.)
Okay, okay. So anyhow… I guess I sort of bit his head off. And was absolutely horrified by the fact I’d done that… and that it happened so naturally. Just like driving to a place you’d been a million times before. Autopilot.
I looked at the head on the ground, the horrified faces in a circle around me, felt the body slide off my back in slow motion… and then I saw my hands. They were like a dog’s paws.
I was a freakin’ werewolf! And I was suddenly mad as hell! It was like… all my judgment left me, and all that I had left was anger. Anger at being singled out… anger at getting jumped because I was different… anger at not having my dad around…
And so help me, I tore three more kids to pieces. I wolfed down their probably marijuana-laced punk flesh, enjoying every mouthful… until I started to come out of it. I was alone, with some dead kids on the ground. A couple of people were looking at me from their windows. And I was suddenly ill. I got up and ran like anything… ran home… crying... blood all over me…
By the time mi Abeula saw me, I was back to human, I guess. But I looked a mess.
I think she knew what I was. But if she did, she never said a word. She just packed me a lunch... and gave me the keys... and I left. I never had another incident quite like that… except for that time the cable guy… uh, never mind.
So… uh… that’s my story. I keep it stuffed, play it cool, avoid fighting. I also stay away from Texas. And mostly I just fix computers now. And hope to God I never get cornered and mad at the same time.
Okay, uh… is that it? Do I need to talk about my mother? No? Alright, cool. Peace out.
(EVERYONE: Whaaa…?)
Just kidding. I’m actually a were-wolf.
(Sighs of relief.)
Yeah, so… I don’t know why I’m here, so… uh… what am I supposed to do next?
(HANK: Tell your story!)
Ah yeah, makes sense. Thanks, Hank. So, okay… I guess I'm a were-wolf. Been that way for maybe ten years. I think I got ALPS from another kid I used to skateboard with. We got in a fight over who had the better moves… and he suddenly went all animalistic and bit me. Of course, I had broken his board first, so it was probably justified. But I didn’t know what I’d gotten into until a couple of weeks later.
See, I came from Texas before I moved here unexpectedly. Always a little bit of funky race relations issues there, you know, between the natives and the immigrants. And even though I’m legal… hey, I’ve still got the Mexicano roots, so it’s an easy mistake. Anyhow, let’s just say I got tagged as something I’m not.
Normally, when I see trouble, I avoid it. I don’t care to fight. Live and let live, you know? But this time wasn’t good. I was walking home from high-school. On the way, there’s a rough neighborhood. One of those lower-middle-class mixed neighborhoods where a lot of punks are looking to fight. And I happened to be there.
There were probably eight kids. Two black guys and maybe six gringos. One of 'em yells “Hey wetback!” And I’m like… whatever. Sticks and stones. So I keep walking. And they’re like, “Yeah, you! Why aren’t you mowing a lawn or something?”
Still… whatever. I kept walking.
Then I got hit with a rock. Don’t know who threw it… but I just wanted to get home. I’m walking fast, but the kids aren’t going to let me go. No adults around… and nothing I can use as a weapon. Like anything would help much against all those kids. Most of them bigger than me. So… I look for an escape. Nothing. There’s a tall fence on one side, apartment wall on the other. The kids are on the other sidewalk, now walking across the street, yelling stupid stuff. I finally turn around. There’s not a good exit from this, so might as well get in some licks, you know? So, I’m like "Hey! Leave off! I’m just going home. Go kick a dog or something!"
Then the biggest one, this stupid-looking meathead, is like, “Maybe we’ll kick you.”
Which is, of course, what I figured they were going to do. So now they’re all around me in a circle, right… I know I can’t get away. So I’m like, “Why don’t you all just calm down. I didn’t do anything to you. And besides, this isn’t a fair fight! Eight to one?”
The one guy shoves me. I play cool, don’t hit back, thinking… man I don’t want a one-sided fight like this. Then another kid jumps on my back from behind – and the jerk that shoved me tries to kick me in the nuts.
And that’s when it happened.
Like lightning, I’ve snapped around and I got this kid’s neck in my teeth… and I clamp down and grind and then I feel his spine start to… uh… wait a second.
You know, I’ve probably said enough. Uh… I just got into the story, you know? I really didn’t, uh, bite anyone…
(AFFIRMATIONS FROM GROUP: It’s okay… we’ve all been there. You can go on… this is a tolerant group! No one’s going to turn you in!)
Yeah, well… I’m not proud of what I did… I don’t know if I want to glorify it.
(FEMALE VOICE: Getting your past out into the open is the first step to healing!)
I don’t know if I need to be healed.
(HANK: Just tell them your story, dammit! It was getting interesting.)
Okay, okay. So anyhow… I guess I sort of bit his head off. And was absolutely horrified by the fact I’d done that… and that it happened so naturally. Just like driving to a place you’d been a million times before. Autopilot.
I looked at the head on the ground, the horrified faces in a circle around me, felt the body slide off my back in slow motion… and then I saw my hands. They were like a dog’s paws.
I was a freakin’ werewolf! And I was suddenly mad as hell! It was like… all my judgment left me, and all that I had left was anger. Anger at being singled out… anger at getting jumped because I was different… anger at not having my dad around…
And so help me, I tore three more kids to pieces. I wolfed down their probably marijuana-laced punk flesh, enjoying every mouthful… until I started to come out of it. I was alone, with some dead kids on the ground. A couple of people were looking at me from their windows. And I was suddenly ill. I got up and ran like anything… ran home… crying... blood all over me…
By the time mi Abeula saw me, I was back to human, I guess. But I looked a mess.
I think she knew what I was. But if she did, she never said a word. She just packed me a lunch... and gave me the keys... and I left. I never had another incident quite like that… except for that time the cable guy… uh, never mind.
So… uh… that’s my story. I keep it stuffed, play it cool, avoid fighting. I also stay away from Texas. And mostly I just fix computers now. And hope to God I never get cornered and mad at the same time.
Okay, uh… is that it? Do I need to talk about my mother? No? Alright, cool. Peace out.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Werechat: The Recruit
Miguel: so... why did you write me? laptop in the pool again?
Hank: No. And I didn't throw it in the pool. It slipped!
Miguel: whatever
Hank: Anyway, I think I've a virus thing.
Miguel: okay... and you need it fixed... and youre probably not going to pay right away, right?
Hank: I can pay you on Tuesday. Or maybe I can do something for you in exchange?
Miguel: like mow my lawn lol
Miguel: hmm
Miguel: actually... there is something, maybe
Hank: Yeah? I'd love to help you out if I can!
Hank: I mean "love" like in "really like to a lot" not like, sex love.
Miguel: im not sure youre the right guy, but you sell cars, yeah?
Miguel: ha... better not be
Hank: Yeah, I sell cars. You looking, cause I can set you up with something nice!
Miguel: not me
Hank: Oh. Who?
Miguel: angel... you maybe met him once... friend
Hank: Angel? Is that the blond with the big ti- chest?
Miguel: no
Miguel: that was my mother
Miguel: shes available too
Hank: No. I'm sure I'm thinking about someone else.
Miguel: yeah... this is a guy.
Hank: A guy? At least he'll know something about cars, right?
Hank: The chicks never do.
Miguel: of course. he used to fix them up for a while. tired of beaters now.
Miguel: no... girls never know them
Hank: What's he looking for? Late model pre-owned? New? American? Import? Sporty? Family car?
Miguel: anything that doesn't look like an alpo rig
Miguel: no mad max stuff
Hank: What's that supposed to mean?
Miguel: you never saw that movie
Miguel: ?
Hank: Mad Max? Yeah. I meant the other bit. Alpo rig.
Miguel: oh you know... no hairy freak road warriors
Miguel: aroooooo!
Hank: You know what? Maybe I don't need your help after all. There's a guy that works at the Starbucks who says he's good with computers. Maybe I'll call him.
Miguel: whys that?
Hank: I don't think your lame ass "joke" was funny. ALPS isn't a joke, Miguel.
Miguel: lighten up dude
Miguel: i could make fun of your paleness
Miguel: wait a sec...
Hank: That would be a lot better than sniping on people just cause they have a disease!
Miguel: you got that thing???
Hank: What if I do? You sure wouldn't know it unless I went all "hairy freak" on you, ripped off your head and feasted on your still beating heart!
Miguel: ha ha ha, your crazy, man
Miguel: you can control it better than that, right?
Hank: Yeah. Crazy like a wolf.
Miguel: i mean... its not that bad all the time
Hank: Have I ever ripped off your head or eaten your still beating heart?
Miguel: come on, you're kidding me about having it
Hank: Yeah, sure. I'm kidding.
Hank: Or not.
Hank: How would you know?
Miguel: i got a friend maybe?
Hank: Yeah, who wants to buy a car.
Miguel: just tell me if you have it
Hank: Why? So you can yell "Alpo" and "aroooo" at me next time you see me?
Miguel: no man im not like that
Miguel: i just make jokes sometimes
Miguel: easier that way
Hank: Easier than what?
Miguel: i dont know
Hank: Hey, are you saying you've got ALPS too?
Miguel: only if you have it
Miguel: if not then no
Hank: Geez, is this fifth grade again?
Miguel: this conversation is too weird for me
Hank: Okay, yes, I have ALPS. Are you satisfied? Now you know enough to ruin me in this city.
Miguel: YES I HAVE IT
Miguel: okay now we're even
Hank: And you're trying to hide it and are ashamed of it, right?
Miguel: shouldnt I be???
Hank: Hell no!
Miguel: its like having aids that bites people.
Hank: You're one of God's creatures, just as much as the next guy!
Miguel: if the next guy was a freak
Hank: You need some help with your self esteem, man.
Hank: And I know just the place to get it!
Miguel: i dont do drugs
Hank: Not drugs. No drugs. We've got this group that meets once a week to help us all come to terms with our ALPS.
Miguel: sounds a little gay
Miguel: or.. maybe i shouldn't say that
Miguel: are you gay too?
Hank: No. I like girls a lot.
Miguel: good. but a group therapy thing sounds gay
Hank: No, it's not group therapy. It's a chance to tell others what you've gone through, see that they've gone through the same thing and we have a kick ass social afterwards.
Hank: There are plenty of women, too!
Miguel: okay
Miguel: alpo girls?
Hank: Okay, youve' got to stop using "alpo."
Miguel: why?
Hank: It's like the "n" word to us.
Miguel: not to me...
Miguel: im a wetback alpo. lol
Hank: If you want to fit in with the group, you're going to have to stop using the term. If nothing else, it will piss off all the women.
Miguel: okay... id do it for the ladies. ha ha
Hank: Good man.
Miguel: but not for you
Miguel: so...
Miguel: about that car...
Hank: Oh, another good thing about the group is that members are always willing to give an alibi if you do end up devouring someone.
Hank: Oh, yeah, the car.
Miguel: okay.... i dont devour anyone anymore...
Miguel: i mean ever
Miguel: never did that ever
Hank: Right...
Hank: No. And I didn't throw it in the pool. It slipped!
Miguel: whatever
Hank: Anyway, I think I've a virus thing.
Miguel: okay... and you need it fixed... and youre probably not going to pay right away, right?
Hank: I can pay you on Tuesday. Or maybe I can do something for you in exchange?
Miguel: like mow my lawn lol
Miguel: hmm
Miguel: actually... there is something, maybe
Hank: Yeah? I'd love to help you out if I can!
Hank: I mean "love" like in "really like to a lot" not like, sex love.
Miguel: im not sure youre the right guy, but you sell cars, yeah?
Miguel: ha... better not be
Hank: Yeah, I sell cars. You looking, cause I can set you up with something nice!
Miguel: not me
Hank: Oh. Who?
Miguel: angel... you maybe met him once... friend
Hank: Angel? Is that the blond with the big ti- chest?
Miguel: no
Miguel: that was my mother
Miguel: shes available too
Hank: No. I'm sure I'm thinking about someone else.
Miguel: yeah... this is a guy.
Hank: A guy? At least he'll know something about cars, right?
Hank: The chicks never do.
Miguel: of course. he used to fix them up for a while. tired of beaters now.
Miguel: no... girls never know them
Hank: What's he looking for? Late model pre-owned? New? American? Import? Sporty? Family car?
Miguel: anything that doesn't look like an alpo rig
Miguel: no mad max stuff
Hank: What's that supposed to mean?
Miguel: you never saw that movie
Miguel: ?
Hank: Mad Max? Yeah. I meant the other bit. Alpo rig.
Miguel: oh you know... no hairy freak road warriors
Miguel: aroooooo!
Hank: You know what? Maybe I don't need your help after all. There's a guy that works at the Starbucks who says he's good with computers. Maybe I'll call him.
Miguel: whys that?
Hank: I don't think your lame ass "joke" was funny. ALPS isn't a joke, Miguel.
Miguel: lighten up dude
Miguel: i could make fun of your paleness
Miguel: wait a sec...
Hank: That would be a lot better than sniping on people just cause they have a disease!
Miguel: you got that thing???
Hank: What if I do? You sure wouldn't know it unless I went all "hairy freak" on you, ripped off your head and feasted on your still beating heart!
Miguel: ha ha ha, your crazy, man
Miguel: you can control it better than that, right?
Hank: Yeah. Crazy like a wolf.
Miguel: i mean... its not that bad all the time
Hank: Have I ever ripped off your head or eaten your still beating heart?
Miguel: come on, you're kidding me about having it
Hank: Yeah, sure. I'm kidding.
Hank: Or not.
Hank: How would you know?
Miguel: i got a friend maybe?
Hank: Yeah, who wants to buy a car.
Miguel: just tell me if you have it
Hank: Why? So you can yell "Alpo" and "aroooo" at me next time you see me?
Miguel: no man im not like that
Miguel: i just make jokes sometimes
Miguel: easier that way
Hank: Easier than what?
Miguel: i dont know
Hank: Hey, are you saying you've got ALPS too?
Miguel: only if you have it
Miguel: if not then no
Hank: Geez, is this fifth grade again?
Miguel: this conversation is too weird for me
Hank: Okay, yes, I have ALPS. Are you satisfied? Now you know enough to ruin me in this city.
Miguel: YES I HAVE IT
Miguel: okay now we're even
Hank: And you're trying to hide it and are ashamed of it, right?
Miguel: shouldnt I be???
Hank: Hell no!
Miguel: its like having aids that bites people.
Hank: You're one of God's creatures, just as much as the next guy!
Miguel: if the next guy was a freak
Hank: You need some help with your self esteem, man.
Hank: And I know just the place to get it!
Miguel: i dont do drugs
Hank: Not drugs. No drugs. We've got this group that meets once a week to help us all come to terms with our ALPS.
Miguel: sounds a little gay
Miguel: or.. maybe i shouldn't say that
Miguel: are you gay too?
Hank: No. I like girls a lot.
Miguel: good. but a group therapy thing sounds gay
Hank: No, it's not group therapy. It's a chance to tell others what you've gone through, see that they've gone through the same thing and we have a kick ass social afterwards.
Hank: There are plenty of women, too!
Miguel: okay
Miguel: alpo girls?
Hank: Okay, youve' got to stop using "alpo."
Miguel: why?
Hank: It's like the "n" word to us.
Miguel: not to me...
Miguel: im a wetback alpo. lol
Hank: If you want to fit in with the group, you're going to have to stop using the term. If nothing else, it will piss off all the women.
Miguel: okay... id do it for the ladies. ha ha
Hank: Good man.
Miguel: but not for you
Miguel: so...
Miguel: about that car...
Hank: Oh, another good thing about the group is that members are always willing to give an alibi if you do end up devouring someone.
Hank: Oh, yeah, the car.
Miguel: okay.... i dont devour anyone anymore...
Miguel: i mean ever
Miguel: never did that ever
Hank: Right...
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Werewolf Geneology or Little Red Riding Hood Revisited
"Hi everyone. My name is Mike Stump and I'm a werewolf."
[Everyone: "Hi Mike!"]
"I'm not really here to talk about any problems I'm having because I'm a werewolf. I know that's what these meetings are supposed to be about, but I wanted to talk about something else. When I discussed it with the group director, Bruce thought you'd all be interested in what I have to say.
"See, I'm into genealogy, digging into the past to find out how my ancestors lived and how having ALPS affected them. I managed to trace my family back to Germany and the infamous werewolf Peter Stumpp. And, from the blank looks on your faces it's obvious you have no idea who Peter Stumpp was. I'll get around to that soon. Anyway, while digging through ancient family records in Germany, I managed to find an account written by Peter, himself. It had been hidden inside the cover of a family Bible and I only found it because I, uh, dropped the Bible and broke the cover.
"Peter's account, though, turns out to be the real source of the old fairy tale Little Red Riding Hood. And Peter was the wolf! I thought this was the kind of story others with ALPS would want to hear, which is why I came tonight. I've updated the language but that's all I changed.
"I had gone for an afternoon walk in the woods, as was my wont, putting the trials of daily survival behind me for a short while."
[Person in the group: "I though it was this Peter Stomp guy who was the wolf."]
"I'm telling the story in first person. And it's Stumpp, not Stomp."
[Person in the group: "Huh?"]
"As if I were Peter. God, don't they teach English in this country any more? Now, if we're done with interruptions? Good.
"Once I had walked deep into the forest, I would transform and run wild and free, as far from the concerns of man as it is possible for a man to be. On this particular day, I was about to transform when the unexpected occurred. A beautiful, golden haired young woman wearing a red traveling cloak ran out of some bushes. She was looking over her shoulder so ran right into me before she realized I was there. I caught her before she could fall, steadying her. I must admit, I enjoyed holding her.
"She turned toward me, wide eyed, as if afraid. After casting her eyes upon me, she calmed down and spoke to me, 'Oh good sir, thanks be to God that you are here! There is a huntsman pursuing me through the forest and I am afraid! W-would you consent to escort me for the rest of my journey?'
"I readily agreed to do so. Any man who found himself with his arms filled by a beautiful young woman would have done the same. 'Where are you going, my lady?' I asked.
"She replied, 'I was returning to my village, but my flight from the huntsman has taken me in the opposite direction. My grandmother's cottage is nearby in the forest. If you could but escort me there, I would be most grateful!'
"I thought it odd that her grandmother lived alone in the forest, but many people do grow eccentric in their elder years. Once again, I readily agreed to her request. I knew she would be safest were I to fully transform, yet I also knew this would utterly terrify an already frightened woman. Instead, I claimed but a fraction of my power, enhancing my senses and strength. The young woman's scent nearly overwhelmed me. Tension and fear, I expected. But they were intertwined with carnal excitement. Consideration for how my fortune may turn upon our arrival at the cottage ended as I identified another, more distant human scent. A man's scent."
[Person in the crowd: "Uh, 'scuse me? What's 'carnal excitement' mean?"]
"It means the young woman was feeling lustful urges."
[Person in the crowd: "Lustful urges? Is that a fancy way of saying she was horny?"]
"Yes, if you insist on using vulgar language. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to continue with the story.
"Asking directions to her grandmother's cottage, I began hurrying the woman along. 'Your fears are well founded, my lady. There is, indeed, a man following your trail!'
"At my declaration, her fear intensified. 'How do you know this, good sir?' she asked me.
"I smiled reassuringly down at her, 'I am quite comfortable in the forest. But have no fear, my lady, this huntsman shall not harm you while I yet breath!'
"She smiled bravely and huddled closer within my arms. Saying nothing further, she directed me toward the cottage. During the next hour, the man's scent stayed behind us, growing no closer. Then we came to the cottage. It was small, most likely a single room, but looked well kept. At the sight of it, the young woman rushed toward the door, pulling me along eagerly. 'Come, sir! Let us enter and bar the door before the huntsman arrives,' she said.
"Propelled toward the door, I asked, 'Should you not knock and announce your presence to your grandmother? Surely she will receive quite a start if we rush in like this!'
"The woman replied, 'My grandmother is not home at present. She has gone to the village to visit my mother and will not return for several days.'
"Despite our situation, a part of me once again considered if I would find increased fortune within the cottage. We entered the cottage and I quickly placed the heavy wooden bar in place across the door. Leaning back against the door, the woman released a sigh of relief. Then she fell into my arms, embracing me warmly and thanking me. Once again, the scent of carnal excitement washed over me. Her face turned up, her lips sought mine and I was lost in the wonder of her beauty.
"I know not whether a minute or an hour passed during our embrace. We both withdrew from it breathless and flushed with pleasure. 'My lady,' I began, 'we need not do this. Your safety is all the thanks I need!'
"She smiled up at me and said, 'You are quite the gentleman, good sir! But fear not, I do this not for thanks but because I wish to!'
"She began gently pushing me toward the only bed in the cottage, saying, 'I shall help you disrobe and tuck you comfortably into the bed. Afterwards, I shall disrobe for you. I have been told men find that an enjoyable spectacle.'
"She did as she proposed, taking pleasure in each part me she uncovered until I stood before her clad only as God has chosen to clad us all. As she tucked me into the bed, she seemed pleased at my body's natural reaction to our situation. Then, I watched as the red cloak fell to the floor. Her hands teased at the fastenings of her blouse and she swayed to and fro with an intoxicating rhythm. Just as she loosened the neck of her blouse, we were both startled by a pounding on the door.
"Quickly pulling her blouse neck tight again, the woman called, 'Who is it?'
"The responding voice was deep and male, 'You know the answer very well, my dear! Come, let me enter.'
"Hand flying to her mouth, she whispered, 'Oh no! It is my husband!'
"I was shocked, as she had given no indication she was wedded. 'Are you certain?' I asked. 'The person at the door is the one who followed us through the forest!'
"She tilted her head as if to ask how I could know such a thing. Yet the scent was most definitely the same as that of our pursuer. Instead, she said, 'Do you think I would not recognize my own husband's voice? Oh, but he must not find you here for he is a cruel man who would kill you and beat me! What to do? What to do?'
"The man's voice rose again, 'Are you speaking to someone? Do you have another in the cottage with you?'
"At those words, the woman came to a decision. She took up a woman's night cap and placed it on my head, saying, 'It is only my grandmother, husband. Wait one moment while I help her into bed for her nap, then I shall open the door.' Turning to me, she whispered, 'My husband is poor of eyesight and hard of hearing. Speak to him in an old woman's voice and all will be well.'
"I had no opportunity to respond as she quickly turned away. She raised the bar and opened the door. I pulled the bed clothes to my chin as a large man entered. He wore the clothing of a woodsman and carried a large axe. 'I saw you in the forest, wife, and wondered what errand brought you,' he said.
"The woman attempted to smile and said, 'I saw you not, husband. My errand is to care for my grandmother, who is ill.'
"The man turned his attention towards me and narrowed his eyes. He spoke, stepping towards me, 'You have big eyes for an old woman.'
"In a high pitched voice that quavered of its own accord, I replied, 'All the better to see my lovely granddaughter!'
"The man took another step closer. 'You have very big ears for an old woman,' he said.
"I said, 'All the better to hear my granddaughter's lovely voice.'
"The man stepped next to the bed. 'You have a lot of teeth for an old woman,' he said.
"I replies, 'All the better to eat my granddaughter's lovely cooking.'
"The man narrowed his eyes as if to see me more clearly. 'You have a very hairy chin for an old woman,' he said.
"I felt my mouth go dry and said, 'All the better to... To...'
"With sudden purpose, the man lifted his axe above his head. 'All the better to die!' he said. The axe descended toward my chest as I desperately attempted to transform. Agony ripped through my stomach and all went black.
"I know not how long I walked in darkness. Slowly I returned to myself, waves of pain no longer emanated from my stomach. I had transformed in time. As the axe had no silver, my wound had healed. As reason returned to me, I heard the man and woman speaking.
"The woman's voice held anger, 'You were late! I was at the point of disrobing when you finally arrived.'
"The man spoke, 'Why not disrobe now, my dear? I know the killing excites you.'
"Footsteps moved toward the door. 'Not until we take care of the body, my darling. Go and fetch some heavy rocks. We will sew them into his stomach and drop him in the river.'
"The man spoke, 'And then?'
"The woman responded, 'And then you shall have your reward!'
"What I had heard was more than sufficient. I bounded from the bed with a bestial snarl. The man and the woman both screamed as I began tearing the man limb from limb. I did not even notice the woman leave as I devoured the man. I had never eaten human before. Alas for my eternal soul, I found human meat delicious.
"In time my hunger was sated. Looking up, I realized the woman was gone. I knew she would tell her story to others, casting me as the villain. Yet I could not bring myself to pursue her. My stomach weighed me down as if it had been filled with the stones the woman wished to use. I left the cottage and slept under the cover of bushes in the forest.
"That's all Peter Stumpp wrote. He was obviously right about two things. First, the woman told the story we all now know as Little Red Riding Hood. I don't know if she originally told the tale with a werewolf, but eventually the brothers Grimm recorded the tale with a talking wolf. Second, Peter Stumpp was right about his eternal soul. Having discovered a taste for human flesh, he continued to kill and eat people. In 1589 he was caught and tried by a church court. Tortured, he eventually admitted to all his sins and was executed by the church.
"That's all I have. I don't know if it helps any of you, but I take some solace in knowing I face the same temptations faced by werewolves for hundreds or thousands of years. And God knows I can't do any worse than my ancestor Peter Stumpp!
"Thank you."
[Group director: "Thank you, Mr. Stump. Okay everyone, we've got snacks in the social room!]
"It's not anyone I know, is it?"
[Everyone: "Hi Mike!"]
"I'm not really here to talk about any problems I'm having because I'm a werewolf. I know that's what these meetings are supposed to be about, but I wanted to talk about something else. When I discussed it with the group director, Bruce thought you'd all be interested in what I have to say.
"See, I'm into genealogy, digging into the past to find out how my ancestors lived and how having ALPS affected them. I managed to trace my family back to Germany and the infamous werewolf Peter Stumpp. And, from the blank looks on your faces it's obvious you have no idea who Peter Stumpp was. I'll get around to that soon. Anyway, while digging through ancient family records in Germany, I managed to find an account written by Peter, himself. It had been hidden inside the cover of a family Bible and I only found it because I, uh, dropped the Bible and broke the cover.
"Peter's account, though, turns out to be the real source of the old fairy tale Little Red Riding Hood. And Peter was the wolf! I thought this was the kind of story others with ALPS would want to hear, which is why I came tonight. I've updated the language but that's all I changed.
"I had gone for an afternoon walk in the woods, as was my wont, putting the trials of daily survival behind me for a short while."
[Person in the group: "I though it was this Peter Stomp guy who was the wolf."]
"I'm telling the story in first person. And it's Stumpp, not Stomp."
[Person in the group: "Huh?"]
"As if I were Peter. God, don't they teach English in this country any more? Now, if we're done with interruptions? Good.
"Once I had walked deep into the forest, I would transform and run wild and free, as far from the concerns of man as it is possible for a man to be. On this particular day, I was about to transform when the unexpected occurred. A beautiful, golden haired young woman wearing a red traveling cloak ran out of some bushes. She was looking over her shoulder so ran right into me before she realized I was there. I caught her before she could fall, steadying her. I must admit, I enjoyed holding her.
"She turned toward me, wide eyed, as if afraid. After casting her eyes upon me, she calmed down and spoke to me, 'Oh good sir, thanks be to God that you are here! There is a huntsman pursuing me through the forest and I am afraid! W-would you consent to escort me for the rest of my journey?'
"I readily agreed to do so. Any man who found himself with his arms filled by a beautiful young woman would have done the same. 'Where are you going, my lady?' I asked.
"She replied, 'I was returning to my village, but my flight from the huntsman has taken me in the opposite direction. My grandmother's cottage is nearby in the forest. If you could but escort me there, I would be most grateful!'
"I thought it odd that her grandmother lived alone in the forest, but many people do grow eccentric in their elder years. Once again, I readily agreed to her request. I knew she would be safest were I to fully transform, yet I also knew this would utterly terrify an already frightened woman. Instead, I claimed but a fraction of my power, enhancing my senses and strength. The young woman's scent nearly overwhelmed me. Tension and fear, I expected. But they were intertwined with carnal excitement. Consideration for how my fortune may turn upon our arrival at the cottage ended as I identified another, more distant human scent. A man's scent."
[Person in the crowd: "Uh, 'scuse me? What's 'carnal excitement' mean?"]
"It means the young woman was feeling lustful urges."
[Person in the crowd: "Lustful urges? Is that a fancy way of saying she was horny?"]
"Yes, if you insist on using vulgar language. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to continue with the story.
"Asking directions to her grandmother's cottage, I began hurrying the woman along. 'Your fears are well founded, my lady. There is, indeed, a man following your trail!'
"At my declaration, her fear intensified. 'How do you know this, good sir?' she asked me.
"I smiled reassuringly down at her, 'I am quite comfortable in the forest. But have no fear, my lady, this huntsman shall not harm you while I yet breath!'
"She smiled bravely and huddled closer within my arms. Saying nothing further, she directed me toward the cottage. During the next hour, the man's scent stayed behind us, growing no closer. Then we came to the cottage. It was small, most likely a single room, but looked well kept. At the sight of it, the young woman rushed toward the door, pulling me along eagerly. 'Come, sir! Let us enter and bar the door before the huntsman arrives,' she said.
"Propelled toward the door, I asked, 'Should you not knock and announce your presence to your grandmother? Surely she will receive quite a start if we rush in like this!'
"The woman replied, 'My grandmother is not home at present. She has gone to the village to visit my mother and will not return for several days.'
"Despite our situation, a part of me once again considered if I would find increased fortune within the cottage. We entered the cottage and I quickly placed the heavy wooden bar in place across the door. Leaning back against the door, the woman released a sigh of relief. Then she fell into my arms, embracing me warmly and thanking me. Once again, the scent of carnal excitement washed over me. Her face turned up, her lips sought mine and I was lost in the wonder of her beauty.
"I know not whether a minute or an hour passed during our embrace. We both withdrew from it breathless and flushed with pleasure. 'My lady,' I began, 'we need not do this. Your safety is all the thanks I need!'
"She smiled up at me and said, 'You are quite the gentleman, good sir! But fear not, I do this not for thanks but because I wish to!'
"She began gently pushing me toward the only bed in the cottage, saying, 'I shall help you disrobe and tuck you comfortably into the bed. Afterwards, I shall disrobe for you. I have been told men find that an enjoyable spectacle.'
"She did as she proposed, taking pleasure in each part me she uncovered until I stood before her clad only as God has chosen to clad us all. As she tucked me into the bed, she seemed pleased at my body's natural reaction to our situation. Then, I watched as the red cloak fell to the floor. Her hands teased at the fastenings of her blouse and she swayed to and fro with an intoxicating rhythm. Just as she loosened the neck of her blouse, we were both startled by a pounding on the door.
"Quickly pulling her blouse neck tight again, the woman called, 'Who is it?'
"The responding voice was deep and male, 'You know the answer very well, my dear! Come, let me enter.'
"Hand flying to her mouth, she whispered, 'Oh no! It is my husband!'
"I was shocked, as she had given no indication she was wedded. 'Are you certain?' I asked. 'The person at the door is the one who followed us through the forest!'
"She tilted her head as if to ask how I could know such a thing. Yet the scent was most definitely the same as that of our pursuer. Instead, she said, 'Do you think I would not recognize my own husband's voice? Oh, but he must not find you here for he is a cruel man who would kill you and beat me! What to do? What to do?'
"The man's voice rose again, 'Are you speaking to someone? Do you have another in the cottage with you?'
"At those words, the woman came to a decision. She took up a woman's night cap and placed it on my head, saying, 'It is only my grandmother, husband. Wait one moment while I help her into bed for her nap, then I shall open the door.' Turning to me, she whispered, 'My husband is poor of eyesight and hard of hearing. Speak to him in an old woman's voice and all will be well.'
"I had no opportunity to respond as she quickly turned away. She raised the bar and opened the door. I pulled the bed clothes to my chin as a large man entered. He wore the clothing of a woodsman and carried a large axe. 'I saw you in the forest, wife, and wondered what errand brought you,' he said.
"The woman attempted to smile and said, 'I saw you not, husband. My errand is to care for my grandmother, who is ill.'
"The man turned his attention towards me and narrowed his eyes. He spoke, stepping towards me, 'You have big eyes for an old woman.'
"In a high pitched voice that quavered of its own accord, I replied, 'All the better to see my lovely granddaughter!'
"The man took another step closer. 'You have very big ears for an old woman,' he said.
"I said, 'All the better to hear my granddaughter's lovely voice.'
"The man stepped next to the bed. 'You have a lot of teeth for an old woman,' he said.
"I replies, 'All the better to eat my granddaughter's lovely cooking.'
"The man narrowed his eyes as if to see me more clearly. 'You have a very hairy chin for an old woman,' he said.
"I felt my mouth go dry and said, 'All the better to... To...'
"With sudden purpose, the man lifted his axe above his head. 'All the better to die!' he said. The axe descended toward my chest as I desperately attempted to transform. Agony ripped through my stomach and all went black.
"I know not how long I walked in darkness. Slowly I returned to myself, waves of pain no longer emanated from my stomach. I had transformed in time. As the axe had no silver, my wound had healed. As reason returned to me, I heard the man and woman speaking.
"The woman's voice held anger, 'You were late! I was at the point of disrobing when you finally arrived.'
"The man spoke, 'Why not disrobe now, my dear? I know the killing excites you.'
"Footsteps moved toward the door. 'Not until we take care of the body, my darling. Go and fetch some heavy rocks. We will sew them into his stomach and drop him in the river.'
"The man spoke, 'And then?'
"The woman responded, 'And then you shall have your reward!'
"What I had heard was more than sufficient. I bounded from the bed with a bestial snarl. The man and the woman both screamed as I began tearing the man limb from limb. I did not even notice the woman leave as I devoured the man. I had never eaten human before. Alas for my eternal soul, I found human meat delicious.
"In time my hunger was sated. Looking up, I realized the woman was gone. I knew she would tell her story to others, casting me as the villain. Yet I could not bring myself to pursue her. My stomach weighed me down as if it had been filled with the stones the woman wished to use. I left the cottage and slept under the cover of bushes in the forest.
"That's all Peter Stumpp wrote. He was obviously right about two things. First, the woman told the story we all now know as Little Red Riding Hood. I don't know if she originally told the tale with a werewolf, but eventually the brothers Grimm recorded the tale with a talking wolf. Second, Peter Stumpp was right about his eternal soul. Having discovered a taste for human flesh, he continued to kill and eat people. In 1589 he was caught and tried by a church court. Tortured, he eventually admitted to all his sins and was executed by the church.
"That's all I have. I don't know if it helps any of you, but I take some solace in knowing I face the same temptations faced by werewolves for hundreds or thousands of years. And God knows I can't do any worse than my ancestor Peter Stumpp!
"Thank you."
[Group director: "Thank you, Mr. Stump. Okay everyone, we've got snacks in the social room!]
"It's not anyone I know, is it?"
Sunday, September 7, 2008
The Newcomer
The little bald stranger wore a bulky overcoat, buttoned to the neck, which gave him a vaguely pear-shape, As he stood, he made a grinding, zonking sound in his nose and throat, and began to undo his coat, take it off, and hang it neatly on the back of his chair. His actions revealed a belt around his middle, with three rolls of toilet paper hanging from it spaced equidistant around an ample paunch. He zonked again, snorted, smiled sheepishly, unrolled a foot and a half of paper, brought it to his red potato-shaped nose, and blew a blast that made Ryan jump.
Upon finishing his activity, he folded the now-soggy mass of tissue, and dropped it in the trash can, where it landed with a sodden thump. Smiling again, he spoke in a voice that reminded more than one person in the meeting of that sad little cartoon dog. "Allergies." he explained needlessly. Gesturing to the contrivance around his waist he said "I like to keep plenty of rotary Kleenex on hand.". He moved behind the lectern, zonked again, and said "Hello, folks. I'm Cal, and I'm a were-...well, let me explain."
"Hi, Cal?" came the quizzical antiphony.
"As long as I can remember, I have had allergies. Really bad allergies. As a small child, I was taken to the best doctors my parents could afford - which wasn't very much. Skin tests, blood tests, shots, drops under the tongue, enough Benadryl to render an elephant comatose, and that was when Benadryl was prescription." He rubbed his right thumb across his fingertips in a knowing way.
"My father had to work a pizza delivery job at night to keep me in tissues. I was the one boy who was happy to get handkerchiefs at Christmas. All those doctors, all those pills, and no-one could figure out my problem. Finally. when I was twelve-and-a-half, my paternal grandmother came to visit from the Old Country."
Here he paused, unreeled a couple of feet of tissue, brought it to his nose, and blatted a sharp blatt. Ryan whimpered and looked imploringly heavenward. It was that loud. Then the little man resumed, punctuating his tale with grinding nasal snorts.
"She was small, wrinkled, and smelled of garlic, which made my nose twitch more than usual. She saw my symptoms, squinted hard, and began to mutter under her breath. Then she turned and left the room.. Finally, at suppertime she came out, wearing a crucifix that shone against her black widow's dress. She was working with my mother at the stove. She started when I spoke to them both and knocked over the salt shaker. Muttering, she took a pinch of the salt that spilled and flung it over her right shoulder to ward off bad luck (she was OLD Old Country). Some of the salt landed on my arm, which began to sting and bubble. The pain drove me to the floor, where I convulsed, and...and...my nose started overflowing, my arms and legs began to contract until my body became cylindrical, yellow, and coated with...with...snot, only it was coming from my now-changed underside instead of my nose. I did notice my grandmother clutching her crucifix before she fainted. I don't know what happened to my parents, because my eyes would not focus right. They extended themselves on two stalks, and their movement made my vision move sickeningly. Then I passed out. When I awoke, my mother was holding me in her arms and crying. Her tears stung where they fell on me. I was lying in a pool of clear slime, but otherwise I was back to normal."
The little man zonked, snorted, unreeled a yard of TP from his waist, and honked a great honk. Ryan left the room. Others looked like they wanted to.
"So, hello folks. I'm Cal, and I'm a were-slug. You might be surprised that I have gotten a rather good job because of it. I work in a non-lethal weapons lab. You know the frictionless anti-riot goo, and the sticky anti-terrorism spray webbing you see on the Discovery Channel shows?"
The little bald man snorted, looked at once modest and inordinately pleased with himself, and chuckled.
"It's some of my best work!"
(Copyright 2008 Weatherly B. Hardy)
Upon finishing his activity, he folded the now-soggy mass of tissue, and dropped it in the trash can, where it landed with a sodden thump. Smiling again, he spoke in a voice that reminded more than one person in the meeting of that sad little cartoon dog. "Allergies." he explained needlessly. Gesturing to the contrivance around his waist he said "I like to keep plenty of rotary Kleenex on hand.". He moved behind the lectern, zonked again, and said "Hello, folks. I'm Cal, and I'm a were-...well, let me explain."
"Hi, Cal?" came the quizzical antiphony.
"As long as I can remember, I have had allergies. Really bad allergies. As a small child, I was taken to the best doctors my parents could afford - which wasn't very much. Skin tests, blood tests, shots, drops under the tongue, enough Benadryl to render an elephant comatose, and that was when Benadryl was prescription." He rubbed his right thumb across his fingertips in a knowing way.
"My father had to work a pizza delivery job at night to keep me in tissues. I was the one boy who was happy to get handkerchiefs at Christmas. All those doctors, all those pills, and no-one could figure out my problem. Finally. when I was twelve-and-a-half, my paternal grandmother came to visit from the Old Country."
Here he paused, unreeled a couple of feet of tissue, brought it to his nose, and blatted a sharp blatt. Ryan whimpered and looked imploringly heavenward. It was that loud. Then the little man resumed, punctuating his tale with grinding nasal snorts.
"She was small, wrinkled, and smelled of garlic, which made my nose twitch more than usual. She saw my symptoms, squinted hard, and began to mutter under her breath. Then she turned and left the room.. Finally, at suppertime she came out, wearing a crucifix that shone against her black widow's dress. She was working with my mother at the stove. She started when I spoke to them both and knocked over the salt shaker. Muttering, she took a pinch of the salt that spilled and flung it over her right shoulder to ward off bad luck (she was OLD Old Country). Some of the salt landed on my arm, which began to sting and bubble. The pain drove me to the floor, where I convulsed, and...and...my nose started overflowing, my arms and legs began to contract until my body became cylindrical, yellow, and coated with...with...snot, only it was coming from my now-changed underside instead of my nose. I did notice my grandmother clutching her crucifix before she fainted. I don't know what happened to my parents, because my eyes would not focus right. They extended themselves on two stalks, and their movement made my vision move sickeningly. Then I passed out. When I awoke, my mother was holding me in her arms and crying. Her tears stung where they fell on me. I was lying in a pool of clear slime, but otherwise I was back to normal."
The little man zonked, snorted, unreeled a yard of TP from his waist, and honked a great honk. Ryan left the room. Others looked like they wanted to.
"So, hello folks. I'm Cal, and I'm a were-slug. You might be surprised that I have gotten a rather good job because of it. I work in a non-lethal weapons lab. You know the frictionless anti-riot goo, and the sticky anti-terrorism spray webbing you see on the Discovery Channel shows?"
The little bald man snorted, looked at once modest and inordinately pleased with himself, and chuckled.
"It's some of my best work!"
(Copyright 2008 Weatherly B. Hardy)
Sunday, August 17, 2008
The Were-Celebrity
“Hi, my name’s Hank and I’m a werewolf.”
[Group: “Hi, Hank.”]
[Person in the crowd: “Don’t you mean were-wimp?”]
“I’m going to ignore that. It’s been a while since I’ve been to a meeting and I’m guessing you’re all wondering where I’ve been.”
[People in the group: “No.” “Not really” “You were gone?”]
“Oh, great. I go off to help all of us and no one even notices? Well, at least tell me you’re wondering why I’m all bandaged up like this? No, wait. Don’t bother. I’m sure the answer would only depress me.
“The first time I was here, someone said something during the social after the meeting that got me thinking. One big problem we ALPS sufferers have is our image. People are scared of us. They don’t see us the same way they see those with cancer or AIDS or any of those other fad diseases. And you know why they don’t have any sympathy for us?”
[Person in the group: “Because we bite off their heads, tear open their rib cages and feast on their still beating hearts?”]
“That’s an issue, sure, but I don’t think it’s the only reason we aren’t getting better press. Just think about all those other ‘cute’ diseases. What do they have they ALPS doesn’t? I’ll tell you what they have. They have celebrities out there raising awareness about the disease. Some of the celebrities have even had the disease themselves.
“So where are the celebrities speaking out for ALPS, huh? Why don’t we see Ed Asner telling America about the tragedy of ALPS? Why isn’t Cameron Diaz appearing in commercials with little children who have ALPS? I’ll tell you why. None of those oh so caring celebrities suffer from ALPS or even know anyone who suffers from ALPS!
“So, a couple of weeks ago, I flew out to LA to infect at least one major celebrity. I figured once we had a major star in our pack, we’d be able to generate some of the sympathy we deserve! I picked Michelle Pfeiffer as my target.”
[Guy in the group: “Oh yeah. She’s hot!”]
“Exactly! And she can act, too, so I thought she’d be perfect to help generate some sympathy for us. Only it didn’t work out like I’d hoped. I mean, I thought I’d have to deal with a bodyguard or two, but I was way off.
“Finding out where Michelle Pfeiffer lived wasn’t a problem. You can buy maps to all the stars’ homes out there. Her house had a big wall around it, but it wouldn’t be a problem for one of us. I came back in the middle of the night, transformed and leaped over the wall. Smooth and easy. I figured I’d just bash a few heads then bite Michelle in her sleep…
“Did any of you know there are such things were-Dobermans? I sure as Hell didn’t! Michelle’s house is guarded by a whole pack of them! I barely had a chance to look around after jumping the wall when the pack came baying after me. And they herded me right into a net trap – with a silver net! Man, I don’t know how much she paid for the net, but it sure burned bad! I couldn’t do anything but dangle in the net and whimper.
“Then this big guy walked up, tossed steaks to the were-Dobermans then looked at me. ‘Good work, boys. Looks like we caught us an Alpo!’ “
[Group: Muttering and murmuring.]
“Yeah, I was offended, too. I gritted my teeth and told him he had no right to call me names like that. You know what he did? He came up real close to me and said, ‘I’ll call you whatever I damn well please, boy. You’re just lucky I’m calling you Alpo instead of using you as Alpo. My boys here’ – and he waved toward the were-Dobermans – ‘are always mighty hungry after a chase.’
“So, I got turned over to the police and spent the rest of the night in jail. But they only had me for trespassing, so I paid bail and was out the next morning. I still had my map of the stars’ houses. I just figured I’d have to do some more thorough research on the bodyguard situation before making my move.
“Man, celebrities have got to be the most paranoid people on earth! Every single star I picked had some major firepower acting as bodyguards. Most of them had some kind of ALPS help, too. It was really depressing. I’d just about given up when I finally found someone who didn’t have a bodyguard at all – Summer Glau!”
[Group: “Who?]
“Summer Glau. Come on, doesn’t anyone here watch science fiction TV? She was River on Firefly and in the movie Serenity? She’s the terminator in Terminator: the Sarah Connor Chronicles? She’s like this really cute, 98 pound girl who always plays someone who can kick the crap out of guys three times her size. In a way, she was perfect. Not only did she already have the reputation as an ass kicker, but she could get the science fiction, fantasy and comic book crowd behind us. “
[Person in the group: “So?”]
“So? You know, 10 years ago, everyone thought vampires were all scary, evil blood suckers. Then Laurell Hamilton’s Anita Blake books broke out of the genre and went big time. Now every other romance novelist is writing about super sexy vampires. And you know the vampire community is eating it up. I don’t know about, but I’m tired of seeing even the most pathetic looking vampire snag hot babes just by flashing a little fang!
“So I figured if Summer Glau could help us get popular with the science fiction and fantasy types, it wouldn’t be long before we had the same kind of break out. Then we’d get research dollars and be able to get hot babes by showing the fur!
“But it didn’t work out that way. I was able to sneak onto Summer’s property, no problem. Without guards, there was no one to stop me. I transformed and was about to kick in her door when the door flew open and I got attacked by a were-tiger! I fought as hard as I could, but this were-tiger really knew how to fight. Finally, all cut up and bruised, I transformed back and gave up.
“The were-tiger snarled, ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ That’s when I realized I had been fighting a were-tigress. Anyway, I explained everything, figuring another were would be sympathetic to my cause. And she was, actually. After I finished, she transformed back and the were-tigress turned out to be Summer Glau! No wonder she takes all the ass kicking roles. She really is a major kicker of asses!
“She helped me up and actually took me inside to bandage up my cuts. Then Summer told me my heart was in the right place but that I probably needed to have my head examined. ‘Leave Hollywood to the weres who understand it,’ she told me. Then she said if I really wanted help her spread the word, I should find a top notch script about a were-tiger. Or a good werewolf script that could be adapted for a were-tiger.
“Then she sent me on my way with a kiss on my cheek. This cheek. Right here. Anyway, that’s how I got the bandages and found out that infecting a big star isn’t the way to go. Nope, Summer has pointed me in the right direction!
“Does anyone have a suggestion for a good script writer? I hear they don’t usually have any bodyguards at all so infecting one of them ought to be a piece of cake!”
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