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.

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...