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?"

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)