(Ring, ring, ring)
“This is Scott. Leave a message at the tone.”
(Beep)
“Hey Scott, this is Tim. Are you there? I’ll just give you a minute, in case you’re screening your calls…
“Cause I would screen my calls, if I were you. Actually, I do screen my calls, and I’m not you.
“So, you there?
“Ok, I guess you’re not. Anyway, you probably remember me from the last WCA meeting. I tried to talk with you afterwards but you had that meeting you were late for… I got your number from Tina. She’s in charge of all the paperwork for the meetings. I guess you volunteered for something or other a while back so she had your number... Hey, was it you that brought the greenbean casserole to that Thanksgiving picnic? I’ve been trying to find out who brought that, it was really good. Do you know Tina personally? I accidentally bumped into her while she was carrying a bunch of WCA folders. I saw your number while I was helping her pick up all the papers and I memorized it. If you could just keep this between you and me, that would be great. She’s kind of cute, and I’d hate to lose any future chances with her.
“Anyway, I just wanted to tell you, I’ve figured it all out. I’m sure you’ve noticed how silver’s been doing in the market recently. It’s so totally being manipulated! That’s because the government’s buying it all up, only they don’t want the average Joe to know about it. They’ve been buying it all up, see, and then making it look like there’s still plenty to go around. They don’t want folks to know what they’re up to. But I’ve got them figured out. It’s the bullets. They’re melting all that silver and molding it into bullets to kill all us weres with.
“So I was thinking, with all your government connections, is there anything you can do about this? I don’t know where they’re hiding the bullets or anything. It’s not like they’d call me up on the phone and tell me something like that, like (continuing in a silly voice) ‘Hey Tim, this is the government. We’re keeping all the silver bullets in Roswell.’ (He chuckles). But you, you’ve got a foot on the inside. I figure if anybody can get to the bottom of this thing, it’s you. If you could just find out where they’ve got the bullets stored, we can formulate a plan. I’m sure we could get Hank and some of his friends to help us dispose of them.
“Anyhow, call me back when you get a chance. I wish I could have spoken to you about this in person... Wait a minute; I’m talking to your machine! Uh, do me a favor and erase this message after you’ve listened ok? Thanks. Actually, now that I think of it, DHS has probably picked up on this call…
“Shoot… I’d better go…”
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Sunday, March 8, 2009
First Date
I have it bad for la chica bonita. Go figure. I live in Minnesota. I'm as Nordic as Nordic gets. I come from that ancient genetic factory somewhere north of Oslo that makes 'em tall, broad, and strawberry-blonde, with a beard you could hide a battle-axe in. In school they called me 'Harald the Red.'
Yeah, that's right, with two a's and no o. My dad is a history buff. He shook the name out of our family tree somewhere. It last belonged to my great, great, great-- somebody.
So why is it that Nordic blond women do nothing for me? You could pull me through all of time and space and set me up on a hot date with Elke Sommer or Ursula Andress at her absolute peak...
And somewhere, something ancient deep inside my brain would say, "Eh. I knew your mother. I knew your grandmother. I knew all your foremothers back to the dawn of our race, and frankly, they were all a bunch of depressed neurotics."
But introduce me to some dulce little chica--let her bat those big brown eyes at me, or wiggle her cute little butt in my general direction. Show me two minutes of Salma Hayek doing her snake-dance thing in From Dusk 'Til Dawn...
Woof.
Anyway, that's my theory. My Norsemen ancestors didn't go viking for the plunder. They went viking to get away from the Norse women. So when my favorite coffee shop hired a new waitress, and she turned out to be 5-foot-1 of dark-haired, dark-eyed, brown-skinned chicana beauty, I was instantly, hopelessly, smitten.
Yeah, Harald the Red, the mighty Viking. It took me three weeks to work up the nerve to ask her out. Another three weeks to get her to say 'yes.'
And that's when she popped her little surprise. "Harald," she said, "you're a sweet guy. But there's something you really need to know about me, first."
I shrugged. "You're, uh, undocumented?"
"No, not that. I mean, yes, I am, but--well, if you really are serious about going out on a date with me, there's somewhere else you need to go with me, first."
And that's how we wound up driving through Lowertown, just after dark on a Sunday evening. I thought it was some kind of joke or test, at first. The junkies, the winos; the gang tags spray-painted everywhere. "That's where we're going," she said, pointing.
"You're kidding," I said. I craned my neck to look at the name carved in the marble over the entryway. "The Rampant Loon Media Building? What on earth possessed them to locate their business here?"
"They got a great tax break from the city."
So I found a place to park the pickup truck, and we got out and took the sidewalk to the main entrance, stepping over the sleeping bums and the puddles of I don't want to know what and walking past a dark alley entrance that brought all my willies and cold shivers out to dance in a conga line on the back of my neck. But we made it into the lobby okay, got waved past by the security guard, and took the elevator to the 13th floor.
Where we walked into a meeting. Huh. This was something I'd never heard of before: Were-Creatures Anonymous. It was some kind of demented variation on a twelve-step program for people who thought they were—
Well, as my adorable little chica put it, "Hi. My name is Tina, and I'm a were-jaguar."
Actually, for a bunch of people who were clinically nuts, they weren't half-bad. They were for the most part calm, sober, and pleasant—except for this Scott guy, who reminded me of a used-car salesman and left me with a deep desire to wash my hand after he shook it. Everyone there accepted that I wasn't one of them but was only there to support Tina, and they congratulated me on my open-mindedness and all that; it was pretty embarrassing, actually. But we got through the coffee hour okay, and sweet little Tina really seemed to be warming up to me. She kissed me in the elevator, and held my hand and cuddled up to my side as we left the building and walked back to where I'd parked my truck. As we passed that dark alley entrance that had given me the willies so badly on our way in, three young thugs stepped out of the shadows. I saw the flash of a knife blade.
And then my world turned red.
#
The next thing I knew, I was waking up naked in a strange bed and my left arm was numb. I turned my head, saw that the naked woman laying on my left arm was Tina, and from that made the leap to guessing that this was her apartment. I sure hoped the bedroom was always this much of a mess.
I must have made some sound or somehow disturbed her. She slowly opened those beautiful big brown eyes, and then just as slowly eased into the most amazingly satiated smile and snuggled in closer.
"Darling," she whispered, "why didn't you tell me? Madre di Dios, you were magnificent! So strong! So fierce! So...insatiable!" She bit my earlobe, gently, kissed her way down my neck, and then worked her way back up to my ear again. "Why didn't you trust me? Why didn't you tell the group that you're—you're—" She tched. "Were-bear seems such an inadequate name."
"Because it is, and I'm not," I said. "The correct term is bearserkr."
"Whatever." She kissed my neck again, harder and more insistent this time. "Whatever it is, you were unforgettable last night!"
That's when I finally reached across with my other arm, and pulled her on top of me, and kissed her on the forehead and held her tight.
And stared at the ceiling, and let my anger soar up to the sky. Yeah. Unforgettable.
Damn you, Odin, and damn your thousand-year curse! They all say that! But just once, would it be too much to let me remember it?
Yeah, that's right, with two a's and no o. My dad is a history buff. He shook the name out of our family tree somewhere. It last belonged to my great, great, great-- somebody.
So why is it that Nordic blond women do nothing for me? You could pull me through all of time and space and set me up on a hot date with Elke Sommer or Ursula Andress at her absolute peak...
And somewhere, something ancient deep inside my brain would say, "Eh. I knew your mother. I knew your grandmother. I knew all your foremothers back to the dawn of our race, and frankly, they were all a bunch of depressed neurotics."
But introduce me to some dulce little chica--let her bat those big brown eyes at me, or wiggle her cute little butt in my general direction. Show me two minutes of Salma Hayek doing her snake-dance thing in From Dusk 'Til Dawn...
Woof.
Anyway, that's my theory. My Norsemen ancestors didn't go viking for the plunder. They went viking to get away from the Norse women. So when my favorite coffee shop hired a new waitress, and she turned out to be 5-foot-1 of dark-haired, dark-eyed, brown-skinned chicana beauty, I was instantly, hopelessly, smitten.
Yeah, Harald the Red, the mighty Viking. It took me three weeks to work up the nerve to ask her out. Another three weeks to get her to say 'yes.'
And that's when she popped her little surprise. "Harald," she said, "you're a sweet guy. But there's something you really need to know about me, first."
I shrugged. "You're, uh, undocumented?"
"No, not that. I mean, yes, I am, but--well, if you really are serious about going out on a date with me, there's somewhere else you need to go with me, first."
And that's how we wound up driving through Lowertown, just after dark on a Sunday evening. I thought it was some kind of joke or test, at first. The junkies, the winos; the gang tags spray-painted everywhere. "That's where we're going," she said, pointing.
"You're kidding," I said. I craned my neck to look at the name carved in the marble over the entryway. "The Rampant Loon Media Building? What on earth possessed them to locate their business here?"
"They got a great tax break from the city."
So I found a place to park the pickup truck, and we got out and took the sidewalk to the main entrance, stepping over the sleeping bums and the puddles of I don't want to know what and walking past a dark alley entrance that brought all my willies and cold shivers out to dance in a conga line on the back of my neck. But we made it into the lobby okay, got waved past by the security guard, and took the elevator to the 13th floor.
Where we walked into a meeting. Huh. This was something I'd never heard of before: Were-Creatures Anonymous. It was some kind of demented variation on a twelve-step program for people who thought they were—
Well, as my adorable little chica put it, "Hi. My name is Tina, and I'm a were-jaguar."
Actually, for a bunch of people who were clinically nuts, they weren't half-bad. They were for the most part calm, sober, and pleasant—except for this Scott guy, who reminded me of a used-car salesman and left me with a deep desire to wash my hand after he shook it. Everyone there accepted that I wasn't one of them but was only there to support Tina, and they congratulated me on my open-mindedness and all that; it was pretty embarrassing, actually. But we got through the coffee hour okay, and sweet little Tina really seemed to be warming up to me. She kissed me in the elevator, and held my hand and cuddled up to my side as we left the building and walked back to where I'd parked my truck. As we passed that dark alley entrance that had given me the willies so badly on our way in, three young thugs stepped out of the shadows. I saw the flash of a knife blade.
And then my world turned red.
The next thing I knew, I was waking up naked in a strange bed and my left arm was numb. I turned my head, saw that the naked woman laying on my left arm was Tina, and from that made the leap to guessing that this was her apartment. I sure hoped the bedroom was always this much of a mess.
I must have made some sound or somehow disturbed her. She slowly opened those beautiful big brown eyes, and then just as slowly eased into the most amazingly satiated smile and snuggled in closer.
"Darling," she whispered, "why didn't you tell me? Madre di Dios, you were magnificent! So strong! So fierce! So...insatiable!" She bit my earlobe, gently, kissed her way down my neck, and then worked her way back up to my ear again. "Why didn't you trust me? Why didn't you tell the group that you're—you're—" She tched. "Were-bear seems such an inadequate name."
"Because it is, and I'm not," I said. "The correct term is bearserkr."
"Whatever." She kissed my neck again, harder and more insistent this time. "Whatever it is, you were unforgettable last night!"
That's when I finally reached across with my other arm, and pulled her on top of me, and kissed her on the forehead and held her tight.
And stared at the ceiling, and let my anger soar up to the sky. Yeah. Unforgettable.
Damn you, Odin, and damn your thousand-year curse! They all say that! But just once, would it be too much to let me remember it?
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Relapse
He was looking bad, rough. You can tell when someone's had a relapse, and it doesn't take ALPS-heightened senses, either. They say recovering alcoholics can smell it when someone in their group has gone off the wagon.
Scott didn't smell funny, but clearly, he'd lost it. Normally the guy was overdressed to a fault and cheerful like a daytime game-show host. Then he went missing back in mid-January, and now here he was in group again, looking like something the cat had dragged in.
"Hi," he said. He looked up, started to make eye-contact, then went back to looking at his shoes. I saw they were scuffed and salt-stained; another bad sign. Crockett & Jones, Leeds, U.K., a thousand bucks a pair—we knew because he'd told us, repeatedly, and now here he was looking like he'd been playing street hockey in them.
"Hi," he tried again. "My name is Scott, and I'm a were-weasel."
"Hi, Scott."
He managed to look up and hold the eye-contact for a few seconds this time, and almost managed a smile. Progress.
He went back to looking at his shoes. "First off, I'd like to thank my sponsor, Tom, for getting me back into group."
Okay, no wonder he looked like something the cat had dragged in. He'd been dragged in by the cat.
"I—" he paused, gulped, swallowed hard. "I'm sorry. Yes, I've—" He looked up, around the circle, and nodded. "Yes, I've had a setback. I screwed up. I—" Another heavy sigh.
"I started doing politics again."
What could we do? Nod sympathetically. Encourage him to keep talking.
"I thought I could handle it. I thought, just a little taste. Just once, for old times' sake. I thought—" He shook his hands in the air, as if wrapping them around some invisible something right in front of his face, and then dropped them into his lap, and sighed.
"I couldn't handle it." He went back to looking at this shoes.
When it seemed like that was all he had to say, Tom cleared his throat. "Go on, Scott. Tell us the rest."
Scott locked eyes with Tom, took some kind of strength from it, and nodded. "Yeah. You're right. They need to know." He took another deep breath, sat up a little straighter in his chair, and then a bit of the Old Scott came back into his voice.
"As you've probably guessed," he said, "I've been down in D.C. for the last six weeks, angling for a job in the new administration, or at least a lobbying gig. I mean, were-weasel, politics: a natural fit, don't you think?" Everyone around the circle nodded sympathetically.
"Well let me tell you, friends, I didn't have a clue. You don't have a clue. There are things crawling through the halls of Congress now that... that...
"Look. This administration is like an enormous frickin' magnet for Dark Life."
Joe the Lion blinked. "Dark Life?"
"Y'know, dark matter? Dark energy?" Scott thumped himself on the chest. "Dark Life. Us. Cryptids. Beasties that go bump in the night. Creatures that don't officially exist—or at least we didn't, until the ALPS activists started coming out of the closet and getting into people's faces.
"I tell you, there are things going on that none of us have a clue about. There are things walking the streets of D.C. now that haven't seen the light of day since the Carter administration. You can't even get an interview for a contract job on K Street unless you're at least a sasquatch. I ran into a frickin' wendigo in the Dirksen Building!"
Joe the Lion was blinking again. "Wendigo?"
"It's Algonquin. Look it up later. While you're at it, look up cryptozoology, too.
"Look, people," he said to the rest of us, "there is—"
He paused, and pointed across the circle. "Hank, I've been following your blog. Don't worry about that Reverend Riley. Internment is the least of our worries. People, there is a frickin' war building up out there."
Joe the Lion nodded. "I knew it. Vampires versus were-beasts."
Scott scowled. "Oh, don't give me that comic-book crap. We're talking about war between the New Breeds—us—and the Old Line dark life; the ones who liked being in the shadows, because it gave them more power."
I finally had to interrupt. "War? Really, Scott, don't you think that's being just a little extreme?"
Scott turned and looked at me, and gave me the full-bore heavy sigh and rolling eyes treatment. "No, I don't think that's 'a little extreme.' Right now there are clashes going on out west between the were-cougars and the were-jaguars, who are trying to push north and muscle in on cougar territory. So far they've managed to cover it up and blame all the murders on drug gangs, but it's only a matter of time..."
He broke off, and sighed again. "Look. All I can say is, there is stuff going out there that scares the willies out of me. We are only scratching the surface; ALPS is only the tip of the iceberg. We think we understand this disease. We're only buying into the cover story. And I don't know about the rest of you, but I for one am scared beyond my capacity for rational comprehension."
He sighed one more time, then shrugged, sat back, and tried to smile.
"But hey, what do I know? I'm just a weasel."
Scott didn't smell funny, but clearly, he'd lost it. Normally the guy was overdressed to a fault and cheerful like a daytime game-show host. Then he went missing back in mid-January, and now here he was in group again, looking like something the cat had dragged in.
"Hi," he said. He looked up, started to make eye-contact, then went back to looking at his shoes. I saw they were scuffed and salt-stained; another bad sign. Crockett & Jones, Leeds, U.K., a thousand bucks a pair—we knew because he'd told us, repeatedly, and now here he was looking like he'd been playing street hockey in them.
"Hi," he tried again. "My name is Scott, and I'm a were-weasel."
"Hi, Scott."
He managed to look up and hold the eye-contact for a few seconds this time, and almost managed a smile. Progress.
He went back to looking at his shoes. "First off, I'd like to thank my sponsor, Tom, for getting me back into group."
Okay, no wonder he looked like something the cat had dragged in. He'd been dragged in by the cat.
"I—" he paused, gulped, swallowed hard. "I'm sorry. Yes, I've—" He looked up, around the circle, and nodded. "Yes, I've had a setback. I screwed up. I—" Another heavy sigh.
"I started doing politics again."
What could we do? Nod sympathetically. Encourage him to keep talking.
"I thought I could handle it. I thought, just a little taste. Just once, for old times' sake. I thought—" He shook his hands in the air, as if wrapping them around some invisible something right in front of his face, and then dropped them into his lap, and sighed.
"I couldn't handle it." He went back to looking at this shoes.
When it seemed like that was all he had to say, Tom cleared his throat. "Go on, Scott. Tell us the rest."
Scott locked eyes with Tom, took some kind of strength from it, and nodded. "Yeah. You're right. They need to know." He took another deep breath, sat up a little straighter in his chair, and then a bit of the Old Scott came back into his voice.
"As you've probably guessed," he said, "I've been down in D.C. for the last six weeks, angling for a job in the new administration, or at least a lobbying gig. I mean, were-weasel, politics: a natural fit, don't you think?" Everyone around the circle nodded sympathetically.
"Well let me tell you, friends, I didn't have a clue. You don't have a clue. There are things crawling through the halls of Congress now that... that...
"Look. This administration is like an enormous frickin' magnet for Dark Life."
Joe the Lion blinked. "Dark Life?"
"Y'know, dark matter? Dark energy?" Scott thumped himself on the chest. "Dark Life. Us. Cryptids. Beasties that go bump in the night. Creatures that don't officially exist—or at least we didn't, until the ALPS activists started coming out of the closet and getting into people's faces.
"I tell you, there are things going on that none of us have a clue about. There are things walking the streets of D.C. now that haven't seen the light of day since the Carter administration. You can't even get an interview for a contract job on K Street unless you're at least a sasquatch. I ran into a frickin' wendigo in the Dirksen Building!"
Joe the Lion was blinking again. "Wendigo?"
"It's Algonquin. Look it up later. While you're at it, look up cryptozoology, too.
"Look, people," he said to the rest of us, "there is—"
He paused, and pointed across the circle. "Hank, I've been following your blog. Don't worry about that Reverend Riley. Internment is the least of our worries. People, there is a frickin' war building up out there."
Joe the Lion nodded. "I knew it. Vampires versus were-beasts."
Scott scowled. "Oh, don't give me that comic-book crap. We're talking about war between the New Breeds—us—and the Old Line dark life; the ones who liked being in the shadows, because it gave them more power."
I finally had to interrupt. "War? Really, Scott, don't you think that's being just a little extreme?"
Scott turned and looked at me, and gave me the full-bore heavy sigh and rolling eyes treatment. "No, I don't think that's 'a little extreme.' Right now there are clashes going on out west between the were-cougars and the were-jaguars, who are trying to push north and muscle in on cougar territory. So far they've managed to cover it up and blame all the murders on drug gangs, but it's only a matter of time..."
He broke off, and sighed again. "Look. All I can say is, there is stuff going out there that scares the willies out of me. We are only scratching the surface; ALPS is only the tip of the iceberg. We think we understand this disease. We're only buying into the cover story. And I don't know about the rest of you, but I for one am scared beyond my capacity for rational comprehension."
He sighed one more time, then shrugged, sat back, and tried to smile.
"But hey, what do I know? I'm just a weasel."
Sunday, February 22, 2009
The Rally
"Hi everyone. I think everybody knows me by now, but in case there are some new members I'm Hank and I'm a werewolf."
[Group: "Hi Hank!"]
"I don't know what's happening lately, but it seems like my life has gotten a lot more exciting. Other than meeting Michelle, the lollipop love of my life, it's mostly been the bad kind of exciting. Last Saturday was supposed to be different but it wasn't.
"Michelle and I didn't have anything planned for Saturday. We were just going go to a movie or maybe even just stay home, cuddle on the couch and watch a few DVDs. You know, just hang out and enjoy being together.
"Luke had other ideas. You remember him? He's Michelle's brother and the scriptwriter who's working on a werewolf-vampire movie for grown ups. Based at least a little bit on what he observes from Michelle and me. Anyway, Michelle and I were trying to decide between a movie theater or DVDs when Luke suggested a walk in the park. That sounded like a fun idea, too, even if it wasn't just going to be Michelle and me. So we headed out toward the park.
"Luke grabbed his writer's notebook but that didn't seem strange to me. He never goes anywhere without that thing. He says you never know when an idea will hit you or when you'll see something that just has to be included in a story. This time, Luke knew he was going to see something worth writing down, he just didn't tell us about it.
"It was kind of nippy outside, which gave made it even more natural for me to walk with my arm around Michelle. Sharing bodily warmth and all that. We just wandered, enjoyed watching the families playing in the park and followed along behind Luke. Off in the distance we began to hear some voices coming over a loud speaker or something and some cheering. There are rallies in the park all the time, though, and Michelle and I were too busy paying attention to each other to pay attention to anything else. But Luke was leading us right to the rally.
"He tried to act all surprised when we reached it, like he didn't know what it was about, but Luke can't act worth a damn. He said something like, 'Oh my!' then dug out his notebook and started scribbling. Michelle and I just stared in disbelief.
"There were probably a thousand people or more standing before a small stage. Erected behind the stage was a big sign that read 'Alpo must go!' and another that read 'Internment or death!' People in the audience held signs like 'The only good were is a dead were!' and even 'God hates alpos!' I was stunned. I mean, I remember that stupid editorial after the big Thanksgiving Day turkey drop but I thought it had blown over. Wrong!
"The man on stage was really whipping the crowd into a frenzy. 'Why does the government let these sickos walk among us regular people? That's what I want to know!' Some in crowd called out 'Yeah!' or 'You tell them, Riley!'
"Riley was just getting started, 'President Obama promised us change we could believe in. Well, rounding up those animals is the kind of change this country needs! If the government is going to spend billions and billions of dollars, why not spend it to make our children safe from the scourge of ALPS?'
"I was still just staring at this, my good mood shot all the Hell. But Michelle got really pissed off at Luke. 'You knew this was going to be going on, Luke! Don't you dare try to deny it,' she said. 'Why did you have to drag us along and ruin our day?'
"Luke at least looked a little sheepish, 'I need to see how this kind of thing affects someone with ALPS. I needed an honest response so my script will be authentic. I really am sorry, but I've got show how much this kind of thing hurts people like Hank so the audience will sympathize with the ALPS character.'
"I think Michelle had a whole lot more she wanted to say, but things took an...exciting turn right about then. You won't be surprised to learn I wasn't the only person with ALPS watching the rally. A group of six guys in gang colors were pushing their way through the audience. They didn't look like they wanted to debate anything with Riley, either. Man, the one thing the ALPS community didn't need right then was more bad publicity. And if those guys transformed and ripped into Riley I figured we'd be one step closer to being rounded up.
"I turned to Luke and said, 'You and Michelle get out of here now. This is about to get really ugly!' Then I started running toward the stage, hoping I could get there before the gang bangers. I got lucky. The gang stopped at the front of the crowd to shout insults at Riley and try to get him mad. But Riley had loudspeakers. He just talked right over them, using them as extra fodder to build up more hatred. Finally the gang bangers got tired of shouting and transformed.
"There was plenty of screaming as the crowd scrambled to get away from them. One second there were six guys in colors, next second there were six rottweilers snarling up at Riley. I'll give Riley one thing, he went white but he held his ground and continued with his rant. I don't know if he was being brave or stupid, but he stuck to his guns.
"The were-rottweilers were taking their time, now, growling and barking and foaming at the mouth a bit. You know, putting on the whole 'we are so bad and so mean' show for the crowd. It gave me the time I needed to transform and leap up onto the stage. Let me tell you, that really got everyone's attention! If the crowd had scrambled and screamed a bit at the rottweilers, they got nearly hysterical when I showed up. The idiots didn't even realize I had put myself between the were-rottweilers and that bastard Riley. The were-doggies noticed, though, and they weren't real happy about it.
"Next thing, the leader of the pack leaped at me and the fight was on. Normally, a wolf against a rottweiler is going to go the wolf's way. But there were six of them and just one of me. I kept moving and snapping and clawing and doing my best to keep them back and away from the speaker. They seemed happy to fight it out with me before taking on Riley.
"They never did get any good bites or scratches on me, but they got lots and lots of little ones. I managed to put three of them down and out of the fight, but by then I was really tired and hurt and losing blood. I knew I wasn't going to win this one, that they were going to rip Riley to shreds and I'd probably get lumped in with them in the news stories. The leader of the pack knew I was pretty much out of it, too. He glared at me, got his other two dogs to attack me then went for Riley's throat.
"He didn't get there, though. I don't know how long Michelle had been there but she caught the pack leader by the tail and just slammed him down onto the stage. The leader was stunned a bit but rolled up and was about to try again when Michelle leaned over and flashed her fangs at him! That dog took to whining and whimpering and he and his gang ran off with their tales between their legs.
"And you know what? That Riley guy was loving every minute of it! I finally tuned in to what he was saying. 'See? Do you see, good people?' he preached into the microphone. 'Do you see what these animals are capable of? I dared to speak the truth and my very life was threatened because of it!'
"That was just too much for me. Here the very people he was railing against had just saved his life and he was claiming we were all a bunch of savage animals! Still in wolf form, I limped over to him and his eyes got wide as I came closer. He never did shut up, though. Behind me, Michelle said, 'Don't do it, Hank! He's not worth it!'
"I really, really wanted to bite that bastard on the ass and let him see what ALPS was like from our side. But I knew Michelle was right. I transformed back to human form, standing right in front of Riley. I spoke loud enough that the microphone picked up what I had to say, 'Screw you, asshole!' And then I kicked him in the balls.
"The rally sort of fell apart after that. The police showed up and so did the news crews. But Michelle and I were able to slip away in all the confusion. We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening on the couch and we even cuddled some for comfort. Mostly, we just got drunk.
"I hate to say it, people, but that whole internment idea isn't just a one shot, stupid news editorial. It's a movement now. It might be small, but we can't just sit around and hope it just goes away. We've got to figure out how to combat it and I don't think a movie that puts us in a good light is going to be enough."
[Group: "Hi Hank!"]
"I don't know what's happening lately, but it seems like my life has gotten a lot more exciting. Other than meeting Michelle, the lollipop love of my life, it's mostly been the bad kind of exciting. Last Saturday was supposed to be different but it wasn't.
"Michelle and I didn't have anything planned for Saturday. We were just going go to a movie or maybe even just stay home, cuddle on the couch and watch a few DVDs. You know, just hang out and enjoy being together.
"Luke had other ideas. You remember him? He's Michelle's brother and the scriptwriter who's working on a werewolf-vampire movie for grown ups. Based at least a little bit on what he observes from Michelle and me. Anyway, Michelle and I were trying to decide between a movie theater or DVDs when Luke suggested a walk in the park. That sounded like a fun idea, too, even if it wasn't just going to be Michelle and me. So we headed out toward the park.
"Luke grabbed his writer's notebook but that didn't seem strange to me. He never goes anywhere without that thing. He says you never know when an idea will hit you or when you'll see something that just has to be included in a story. This time, Luke knew he was going to see something worth writing down, he just didn't tell us about it.
"It was kind of nippy outside, which gave made it even more natural for me to walk with my arm around Michelle. Sharing bodily warmth and all that. We just wandered, enjoyed watching the families playing in the park and followed along behind Luke. Off in the distance we began to hear some voices coming over a loud speaker or something and some cheering. There are rallies in the park all the time, though, and Michelle and I were too busy paying attention to each other to pay attention to anything else. But Luke was leading us right to the rally.
"He tried to act all surprised when we reached it, like he didn't know what it was about, but Luke can't act worth a damn. He said something like, 'Oh my!' then dug out his notebook and started scribbling. Michelle and I just stared in disbelief.
"There were probably a thousand people or more standing before a small stage. Erected behind the stage was a big sign that read 'Alpo must go!' and another that read 'Internment or death!' People in the audience held signs like 'The only good were is a dead were!' and even 'God hates alpos!' I was stunned. I mean, I remember that stupid editorial after the big Thanksgiving Day turkey drop but I thought it had blown over. Wrong!
"The man on stage was really whipping the crowd into a frenzy. 'Why does the government let these sickos walk among us regular people? That's what I want to know!' Some in crowd called out 'Yeah!' or 'You tell them, Riley!'
"Riley was just getting started, 'President Obama promised us change we could believe in. Well, rounding up those animals is the kind of change this country needs! If the government is going to spend billions and billions of dollars, why not spend it to make our children safe from the scourge of ALPS?'
"I was still just staring at this, my good mood shot all the Hell. But Michelle got really pissed off at Luke. 'You knew this was going to be going on, Luke! Don't you dare try to deny it,' she said. 'Why did you have to drag us along and ruin our day?'
"Luke at least looked a little sheepish, 'I need to see how this kind of thing affects someone with ALPS. I needed an honest response so my script will be authentic. I really am sorry, but I've got show how much this kind of thing hurts people like Hank so the audience will sympathize with the ALPS character.'
"I think Michelle had a whole lot more she wanted to say, but things took an...exciting turn right about then. You won't be surprised to learn I wasn't the only person with ALPS watching the rally. A group of six guys in gang colors were pushing their way through the audience. They didn't look like they wanted to debate anything with Riley, either. Man, the one thing the ALPS community didn't need right then was more bad publicity. And if those guys transformed and ripped into Riley I figured we'd be one step closer to being rounded up.
"I turned to Luke and said, 'You and Michelle get out of here now. This is about to get really ugly!' Then I started running toward the stage, hoping I could get there before the gang bangers. I got lucky. The gang stopped at the front of the crowd to shout insults at Riley and try to get him mad. But Riley had loudspeakers. He just talked right over them, using them as extra fodder to build up more hatred. Finally the gang bangers got tired of shouting and transformed.
"There was plenty of screaming as the crowd scrambled to get away from them. One second there were six guys in colors, next second there were six rottweilers snarling up at Riley. I'll give Riley one thing, he went white but he held his ground and continued with his rant. I don't know if he was being brave or stupid, but he stuck to his guns.
"The were-rottweilers were taking their time, now, growling and barking and foaming at the mouth a bit. You know, putting on the whole 'we are so bad and so mean' show for the crowd. It gave me the time I needed to transform and leap up onto the stage. Let me tell you, that really got everyone's attention! If the crowd had scrambled and screamed a bit at the rottweilers, they got nearly hysterical when I showed up. The idiots didn't even realize I had put myself between the were-rottweilers and that bastard Riley. The were-doggies noticed, though, and they weren't real happy about it.
"Next thing, the leader of the pack leaped at me and the fight was on. Normally, a wolf against a rottweiler is going to go the wolf's way. But there were six of them and just one of me. I kept moving and snapping and clawing and doing my best to keep them back and away from the speaker. They seemed happy to fight it out with me before taking on Riley.
"They never did get any good bites or scratches on me, but they got lots and lots of little ones. I managed to put three of them down and out of the fight, but by then I was really tired and hurt and losing blood. I knew I wasn't going to win this one, that they were going to rip Riley to shreds and I'd probably get lumped in with them in the news stories. The leader of the pack knew I was pretty much out of it, too. He glared at me, got his other two dogs to attack me then went for Riley's throat.
"He didn't get there, though. I don't know how long Michelle had been there but she caught the pack leader by the tail and just slammed him down onto the stage. The leader was stunned a bit but rolled up and was about to try again when Michelle leaned over and flashed her fangs at him! That dog took to whining and whimpering and he and his gang ran off with their tales between their legs.
"And you know what? That Riley guy was loving every minute of it! I finally tuned in to what he was saying. 'See? Do you see, good people?' he preached into the microphone. 'Do you see what these animals are capable of? I dared to speak the truth and my very life was threatened because of it!'
"That was just too much for me. Here the very people he was railing against had just saved his life and he was claiming we were all a bunch of savage animals! Still in wolf form, I limped over to him and his eyes got wide as I came closer. He never did shut up, though. Behind me, Michelle said, 'Don't do it, Hank! He's not worth it!'
"I really, really wanted to bite that bastard on the ass and let him see what ALPS was like from our side. But I knew Michelle was right. I transformed back to human form, standing right in front of Riley. I spoke loud enough that the microphone picked up what I had to say, 'Screw you, asshole!' And then I kicked him in the balls.
"The rally sort of fell apart after that. The police showed up and so did the news crews. But Michelle and I were able to slip away in all the confusion. We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening on the couch and we even cuddled some for comfort. Mostly, we just got drunk.
"I hate to say it, people, but that whole internment idea isn't just a one shot, stupid news editorial. It's a movement now. It might be small, but we can't just sit around and hope it just goes away. We've got to figure out how to combat it and I don't think a movie that puts us in a good light is going to be enough."
Sunday, February 15, 2009
That's Amore!
Bon Jour my brothers and sisters. My name is Pierre, and I am how do you say? A were-skunk. I stand before you a broken man. For I have seen love, and she has slipped through my fingers. It was a beautiful morning yesterday, crisp and clean, like so many mornings I remember growing up in Gay Paris and Amore, she was in ze air.
I decided to take a walk down town. I wasn’t ze only one enjoying ze stroll. Many couples walked hand in hand celebrating zis most French of all American holidays, Valentines Day. As one who has studied ze ways of love and ze wily nature of ze most dangerous game, woman, I wondered when cupid might draw back his bow and strike my heart.
As I pondered ze lonely nature of a man such as I, Cupid struck. Outside of ze local zeatre, a crowd was exiting ze afternoon matinee of some show called Cats and in ze middle of ze rush of people I saw her. She was tall and gorgeous. A classic beauty. Her hair was black with two large white stripes running down her back. Surely zis creature was made just for me. I had to admire such boldness to be out in a crowd in her transformed state. I felt my heart swell and I decided zen zat I shall lover her with such passion to equal zis boldness. I knew our love would be ze stuff of legend.
I immediately transformed into my fabulous skunk self and bounded over to her. Ze crowd scattered in awe of ze power of my love. My Princess stood zere shivering with the fear of ze destiny zat waited us. Her eyes welled with ze tears of passion. I embraced her, bent her over backwards, looked lovingly into her deep pools of blue zat were her eyes and planted a long passionate kiss zat would make Aphrodite herself blush.
She looked back at me and screamed ze scream of love and ran away.
“Ahhh Mon Cherie, you want to play hard to get” I said.
“Pierre LeStinc will go to ze ends of ze earth for you!” I yelled at her.
I chased her through buildings and alleyways yet she continued to elude me. I would have my love and she will know ze true meaning of passion.
I soon had her cornered in a dead end alley. I approached her and whispered all ze sweet things we would do togezer. Her whole body shook with anticipation. I soon had her in my loving embrace. She started to struggle. She obviously wanted to keep ze game going I thought.
When all of a sudden a little white girl with blonde hair popped out below me and I was left holding an empty cat suit with spilt paint running down ze back of it.
I realized zen zat Love, She is a fickle creature and zat true love was not to be mine zis day.
Cupid-You hear me know, I will be waiting for you next year!
I decided to take a walk down town. I wasn’t ze only one enjoying ze stroll. Many couples walked hand in hand celebrating zis most French of all American holidays, Valentines Day. As one who has studied ze ways of love and ze wily nature of ze most dangerous game, woman, I wondered when cupid might draw back his bow and strike my heart.
As I pondered ze lonely nature of a man such as I, Cupid struck. Outside of ze local zeatre, a crowd was exiting ze afternoon matinee of some show called Cats and in ze middle of ze rush of people I saw her. She was tall and gorgeous. A classic beauty. Her hair was black with two large white stripes running down her back. Surely zis creature was made just for me. I had to admire such boldness to be out in a crowd in her transformed state. I felt my heart swell and I decided zen zat I shall lover her with such passion to equal zis boldness. I knew our love would be ze stuff of legend.
I immediately transformed into my fabulous skunk self and bounded over to her. Ze crowd scattered in awe of ze power of my love. My Princess stood zere shivering with the fear of ze destiny zat waited us. Her eyes welled with ze tears of passion. I embraced her, bent her over backwards, looked lovingly into her deep pools of blue zat were her eyes and planted a long passionate kiss zat would make Aphrodite herself blush.
She looked back at me and screamed ze scream of love and ran away.
“Ahhh Mon Cherie, you want to play hard to get” I said.
“Pierre LeStinc will go to ze ends of ze earth for you!” I yelled at her.
I chased her through buildings and alleyways yet she continued to elude me. I would have my love and she will know ze true meaning of passion.
I soon had her cornered in a dead end alley. I approached her and whispered all ze sweet things we would do togezer. Her whole body shook with anticipation. I soon had her in my loving embrace. She started to struggle. She obviously wanted to keep ze game going I thought.
When all of a sudden a little white girl with blonde hair popped out below me and I was left holding an empty cat suit with spilt paint running down ze back of it.
I realized zen zat Love, She is a fickle creature and zat true love was not to be mine zis day.
Cupid-You hear me know, I will be waiting for you next year!
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Loathing
Hi, my name is John and I suffer from ALPS.
(Someone yells “It’s not suffering!”)
For me it is. It’s really hard for me to be here. I mean, it’s not like it’s even going to help me to share… it won't make my life less pathetic... you know, maybe I’ll just let someone else get up…
(He starts to get down but changes his mind after a chorus of encouraging voices urge him back to the podium.)
Fine. I’ll tell my story. Thank you for your support. I suppose I might as well get this over with.
So, uh, anyhow, let me just say something first.
I hate dogs. I really and truly hate them. A lot of folks probably think that’s unnatural… but heck, I think YOU’RE unnatural for liking them.
I mean – really! Who ever thought it was a good idea to start bringing large hairy carnivores into their houses? I can understand keeping a dog outside for protection… but to let it into your HOME? It’s nasty. They crap in the yard, then come sit on your furniture inside. They eat your food, beg, lick people, sniff crotches… seriously, it’s gross. It’s dirty. And the hair all around the house? And the SMELL? Ever smell a house full of dogs? It’s like entering the antechamber of hell.
(someone in the audience coughs self-consciously)
And actually, in ancient Israel, I think dogs were like considered to be an unclean and loathsome animal. And those were GOD’S people, you know? I’m with them. I can’t stand dogs. Okay… all that is background.
One day I was jogging at the park, doing my regular rounds. Fitness used to be a big thing for me before I had ALPS. And now it’s like… whatever. My muscles don’t need the toning like they used to. So I’m running along, having just finished my first mile, and I hear a bark and some rustling in the bushes beside the path. I figure, oh geez, some jerk has let their dog off its leash again… so I speed up… and yup, here comes a dog. It’s snarling and foaming… a HUGE dog, like a German Shepherd mixed with horse… so I’m like… trying to get away… and SNAP, man it totally takes a CHUNK out of my calf!
And I’m like… you BITCH!!!
(John looks around the room.)
It’s okay, see, female dogs are called bitches. So I can say that. It’s like, a, uh, technical term, you know?
(“We know. Get back to the story.”)
Sorry. So, I’m there on the ground, bleeding and the dog is nowhere to be seen. Gone. And I’m thinking about how much life stinks and how much I hate dogs and all that…
Well, I had NO idea.
About a month later, I’m up early and I’m out front watering the lawn. We had some water restrictions thanks to a slight drought, so there are only certain windows of time, you know, where you can water, and my dwarf pomegranate was looking a little parched…
(Someone sighs loudly)
Okay, I’m rambling a little. Sorry. So, I’m out there with the hose and I smell something. Like… a rich, strong, earthy urine smell. I know, it’s disgusting. But I’m compelled by it. There’s a little spot at the corner of my yard, a little rosebush, and that’s the source. Before I know it, I have the overwhelming urge to, you know, go? So I just unzip and let fly.
Then I come to my senses and think… omigosh! Did I just DO that? I look around… no one saw me… but I’m still totally shocked by my own actions.
Then comes the coup de grâce. The newspaper car drives down the road. The guy throws my paper.
And I catch it IN MY MOUTH! Like a dog! I totally couldn’t help it. I saw it in the air one second, and in the next, I had it in my mouth. I see the guy look out the window of the car at me like… WHOA! And I’m feeling sheepish. Or maybe sheep-doggish? Who knows?
Then it hits me like a ton of milk bones. That bite. In the park. That wasn’t a dog! It was a were-dog… no WONDER he was so big. And so fierce.
(“We’re not ALL fierce!” comes the voice of a were-badger.)
Sorry, I know that.
But this guy was. And he passed his doggy nastiness unto me. Did I tell you how much I loathe dogs???
I really, really REALLY hate them!
And now… I hate myself.
(Someone yells “It’s not suffering!”)
For me it is. It’s really hard for me to be here. I mean, it’s not like it’s even going to help me to share… it won't make my life less pathetic... you know, maybe I’ll just let someone else get up…
(He starts to get down but changes his mind after a chorus of encouraging voices urge him back to the podium.)
Fine. I’ll tell my story. Thank you for your support. I suppose I might as well get this over with.
So, uh, anyhow, let me just say something first.
I hate dogs. I really and truly hate them. A lot of folks probably think that’s unnatural… but heck, I think YOU’RE unnatural for liking them.
I mean – really! Who ever thought it was a good idea to start bringing large hairy carnivores into their houses? I can understand keeping a dog outside for protection… but to let it into your HOME? It’s nasty. They crap in the yard, then come sit on your furniture inside. They eat your food, beg, lick people, sniff crotches… seriously, it’s gross. It’s dirty. And the hair all around the house? And the SMELL? Ever smell a house full of dogs? It’s like entering the antechamber of hell.
(someone in the audience coughs self-consciously)
And actually, in ancient Israel, I think dogs were like considered to be an unclean and loathsome animal. And those were GOD’S people, you know? I’m with them. I can’t stand dogs. Okay… all that is background.
One day I was jogging at the park, doing my regular rounds. Fitness used to be a big thing for me before I had ALPS. And now it’s like… whatever. My muscles don’t need the toning like they used to. So I’m running along, having just finished my first mile, and I hear a bark and some rustling in the bushes beside the path. I figure, oh geez, some jerk has let their dog off its leash again… so I speed up… and yup, here comes a dog. It’s snarling and foaming… a HUGE dog, like a German Shepherd mixed with horse… so I’m like… trying to get away… and SNAP, man it totally takes a CHUNK out of my calf!
And I’m like… you BITCH!!!
(John looks around the room.)
It’s okay, see, female dogs are called bitches. So I can say that. It’s like, a, uh, technical term, you know?
(“We know. Get back to the story.”)
Sorry. So, I’m there on the ground, bleeding and the dog is nowhere to be seen. Gone. And I’m thinking about how much life stinks and how much I hate dogs and all that…
Well, I had NO idea.
About a month later, I’m up early and I’m out front watering the lawn. We had some water restrictions thanks to a slight drought, so there are only certain windows of time, you know, where you can water, and my dwarf pomegranate was looking a little parched…
(Someone sighs loudly)
Okay, I’m rambling a little. Sorry. So, I’m out there with the hose and I smell something. Like… a rich, strong, earthy urine smell. I know, it’s disgusting. But I’m compelled by it. There’s a little spot at the corner of my yard, a little rosebush, and that’s the source. Before I know it, I have the overwhelming urge to, you know, go? So I just unzip and let fly.
Then I come to my senses and think… omigosh! Did I just DO that? I look around… no one saw me… but I’m still totally shocked by my own actions.
Then comes the coup de grâce. The newspaper car drives down the road. The guy throws my paper.
And I catch it IN MY MOUTH! Like a dog! I totally couldn’t help it. I saw it in the air one second, and in the next, I had it in my mouth. I see the guy look out the window of the car at me like… WHOA! And I’m feeling sheepish. Or maybe sheep-doggish? Who knows?
Then it hits me like a ton of milk bones. That bite. In the park. That wasn’t a dog! It was a were-dog… no WONDER he was so big. And so fierce.
(“We’re not ALL fierce!” comes the voice of a were-badger.)
Sorry, I know that.
But this guy was. And he passed his doggy nastiness unto me. Did I tell you how much I loathe dogs???
I really, really REALLY hate them!
And now… I hate myself.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Blood and Bowl Games
"Hi everyone. I think you all know me by now -- Hank, the Werewolf."
[Everyone: "Hi Hank!"]
"Last time I was up here I told you about when I met Michelle -- she's a vampire -- and how we started dating. Anyway, on Sunday she took me to a vampire Superbowl party and boy was it wild!"
[Willy: "You went to a vampire party? Alone? Just how stupid are you, son?"]
"I'm up here talking, aren't I? If I was as stupid as you think I probably wouldn't be here."
[Willy: "I guess God really does protect children and fools."]
"Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah.
"Michelle's brother Luke, the script writer? He wanted us to go with him to his usual sports bar to watch the game. He was real disappointed his Eagles hadn't gotten there but he's too big of a fan to miss the game. But Michelle said she couldn't go because her sire was having a party and she had to attend.
"The whole 'sire' thing was new for Luke and I knew less than I thought I did. I just thought a sire was like the alpha in a werewolf pack. You know, the alpha's in charge and you've got to obey him on pack matters. But a sire isn't like that at all. A sire is actually an older vampire who has turned others into vampires, too. Michelle didn't want to go into the details, but apparently a vampire can either drink someone's blood or inject their own blood into the person. If they inject blood, the person usually contracts SCABS and becomes a vampire.
"You know, were-creatures can't help it when we bite someone and give them ALPS. It's not an excuse or anything, but we don't choose to create more of us. Some vampires, though, seem to live for siring more vampires. Michelle's sire, Tony, is one of those.
"Anyway, Michelle told her brother that it was impossible for her to directly disobey her sire. If he ordered her to attend his party, she had no choice by to go. Neither Luke or I liked the sound of that! Luke was all set to skip the sports bar and go with her, but Michelle squashed that idea fast.
"She told him, 'If I bring a normal with me, Tony would either become their sire or, worse, order me to do it. So you're not coming with me and that's final!'
"I couldn't let down my new friends, so said, 'Don't worry, Luke. I'll go with her and will make sure this Tony guy doesn't get out of hand.'
"Michelle wasn't happy about having me going, either, but there was no way I wasn't going with her. I told her, 'Look, you can take me along openly or I'll just follow your scent and crash the party.' It didn't end there -- and Michelle has one Hell of a temper when she's roused -- but Luke and I weren't budging. She finally gave in.
"Michelle had settled down by the time we left for the party. I'd kicked up my senses and could tell she was nervous about the party; and not just because I was going to be there. I think she was a little relieved I was going, actually. We were just going to walk from Luke's apartment because this Tony guy lives in a big loft near the university. Get this, the guy's a student! Michelle says he's already got a dozen different degrees but keeps going back to college because there's plenty of prey there.
"What a sleaze bag, right? Michelle could tell I was getting angry just thinking about this guy. She pulled me off the sidewalk to sit on a park bench, looked in my eyes and said, 'You can't let this get to you, Hank! If you go up to Tony and go alpo on him, he's going to have you killed! He'll order all of his children -- that's what he calls us -- to kill you. And we will do it! None of us will want to, but it is impossible for us to disobey our sire!'
"I hadn't realized the connection was that strong. 'So that's why Tony keeps siring more vampires? So he can have a bunch of slaves who have to do his bidding?' I asked her.
"Michelle shook her head, 'No. Or not entirely, anyway. Tony loves ordering us around, especially if he's ordering us to do something he knows we don't want to do. But the main reason he sires more vampires is so he can live forever.'
"I know I must have looked confused. Michelle took my hands, 'A vampire who feeds from other vampires doesn't age and will never die as long as he has vampires to feed from. Hank, don't let Tony' apparent age fool you. He's 319 years old!'
"What she had said surprised. Not that Tony was 319, but that vampires didn't automatically live forever. 'I thought vampires were, you know, undead and lived forever.'
"Michelle actually laughed a bit. 'That's just a typical misunderstanding. We get old and die, just like everyone else. Unless we do what Tony does, and most of us would rather die than become a sire!' She poked me in the ribs. 'Have I ever felt cold in your arms? I'm just as alive as you are. I just have a different disease than you.'
"'So you don't have to put a stake through a vampire's heart to kill him?' I asked.
"Michelle grimaced, 'That part is true, more or less. You know how you can heal from almost any wound when you're transformed? Vampires are like that all the time. As long as our blood flows, we can heal from most wounds. Something that causes us to bleed out quickly might kill us, but a stake through heart is the only sure way.'
"All of that was news to me! On the other hand, I was glad the lively, warm girl I'd been holding was, well, still a live warm girl!
"A few minutes later we got to Tony's loft. It looked mighty expensive for a student, but I guess a guy could make a lot of money in 300 years! The place was crowded when we entered, conversation buzzing. There was also something like a reception line waiting to talk this guy who looked like he was 19 or 20. He was lounging in a fancy chair, looking all the world like he was the king of the world. I figured that had to be Tony.
"The minute I stepped into the room behind Michelle, the conversation just stopped and everyone in the room turned to look at me. It's freaky having 30 pairs of eyes trained on you when you know every pair of eyes belongs to a vampire!
"Tony spoke in a voice with the whip crack of command in it. 'Michelle. Front and center. Now. And bring your...guest.'
"Michelle turned to grab my hand and I could tell she wasn't fully there. Her eyes were glazed and didn't show any emotion. I figured this must be that whole 'must obey' bit she'd told me about. With surprising force, Michelle dragged me to stand before Tony.
"Tony looked me up and down, 'Michelle, why have you brought this...creature...before me?'
"When she answered, her voice was flat and emotionless. 'He's my boyfriend, Sire. He insisted on coming so he could protect me.'
"Not exactly information I wanted spoken aloud in a room full of vampires, let me tell you! Tony turned those laser beam eyes on me, 'Most amusing, puppy boy. Don't the elders of your mangy kind pass along any knowledge to their pups any more? Don't they teach you to keep your wet little noses out of the business of your betters?'
"That was it! I snapped and transformed right there. As I leaped at Tony's throat, I heard Michelle cry out, 'No Hank!' But it was too late for her cry and too late for Tony. At least that's what I thought. Tony moved so fast I could barely see it with my enhanced senses. He was on his feet, holding me by the throat before I got within a foot of him.
"My back paws swung above the ground and my front paws weren't having any effect on the hand that was holding me. 'Bad doggy! You need to be punished,' Tony said to me. Turning to Michelle, he said, 'And you're going to do the punishing, Michelle.'
"Michelle had tears in her eyes, 'No, Tony! Please-'
"'Enough!' Tony said, using the whip crack voice again. 'You will drain this beast dry and then you will plunge a silver knife into its heart.'
"I could see Michelle was fighting against the command with all her will. And I could see she was losing. But forcing his will on Michelle was taking all of Tony's attention. It was the only chance I was going to get, so I took it!
"I reverted back to human form and my much smaller neck slipped right out of Tony's grasp. I transformed back to wolf form just as my back feet hit the floor. Pushing off from the floor, I lunged underneath Tony's outstretched hand. He attention was just turning to me when I ripped out his throat. Tony's hands flew to stop the flow of blood from his throat until he could heal. And that's when I ripped open his ribcage and feasted on his still beating heart! Tony had just enough time to look at the gaping hole in his chest before his eyes clouded over and he died.
"Everything was really quiet for a few seconds and then someone said, 'He killed Tony!' Then others took it up, too. 'He killed Tony!' and 'Tony's dead!' I started looking around for a quick exit!
"Then Michelle grabbed me in a great big hug and started scratching behind my ears. I was still in wolf form and she knows I love that. 'That's my alpo!' she said. 'Way to go, Hank!'
"And just like that, the spell broke and everyone started cheering. I transformed back to human form and got a big kiss on the mouth from Michelle. When she pulled back to take a breath I asked, 'Why aren't they trying to beat me to death for killing their sire?'
"Michelle laughed, 'You're kidding, right? None of us liked Tony! God, we all hated him more than you can imagine! But it's impossible for any vampire to kill their sire. I didn't think you could, either, really, and that's why I didn't want you to come along.' She kissed me again. 'But you did it! You freed us from Tony!'
"The rest of the evening is kind of a blur. When they're not being lorded over by their sire, the vampires turned out to be a pretty wild bunch! Everyone kept bringing me drinks. They even offered to let me devour the rest of Tony. I wasn't really hungry but I knew it would be easier for them if there wasn't a body to be found. I swear, those vampire cheered every bite I took!
"After a few hours, Michelle and I headed back to her place and... Well, a gentleman doesn't tell!"
[Miguel: "Dude! You left that part out when you told me about it.]
"Well, that's all you're going to hear, so don't bug me about it. I do have one question, though.
"With all the excitement, we totally forgot about the game. Who won?"
[Everyone: "Hi Hank!"]
"Last time I was up here I told you about when I met Michelle -- she's a vampire -- and how we started dating. Anyway, on Sunday she took me to a vampire Superbowl party and boy was it wild!"
[Willy: "You went to a vampire party? Alone? Just how stupid are you, son?"]
"I'm up here talking, aren't I? If I was as stupid as you think I probably wouldn't be here."
[Willy: "I guess God really does protect children and fools."]
"Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah.
"Michelle's brother Luke, the script writer? He wanted us to go with him to his usual sports bar to watch the game. He was real disappointed his Eagles hadn't gotten there but he's too big of a fan to miss the game. But Michelle said she couldn't go because her sire was having a party and she had to attend.
"The whole 'sire' thing was new for Luke and I knew less than I thought I did. I just thought a sire was like the alpha in a werewolf pack. You know, the alpha's in charge and you've got to obey him on pack matters. But a sire isn't like that at all. A sire is actually an older vampire who has turned others into vampires, too. Michelle didn't want to go into the details, but apparently a vampire can either drink someone's blood or inject their own blood into the person. If they inject blood, the person usually contracts SCABS and becomes a vampire.
"You know, were-creatures can't help it when we bite someone and give them ALPS. It's not an excuse or anything, but we don't choose to create more of us. Some vampires, though, seem to live for siring more vampires. Michelle's sire, Tony, is one of those.
"Anyway, Michelle told her brother that it was impossible for her to directly disobey her sire. If he ordered her to attend his party, she had no choice by to go. Neither Luke or I liked the sound of that! Luke was all set to skip the sports bar and go with her, but Michelle squashed that idea fast.
"She told him, 'If I bring a normal with me, Tony would either become their sire or, worse, order me to do it. So you're not coming with me and that's final!'
"I couldn't let down my new friends, so said, 'Don't worry, Luke. I'll go with her and will make sure this Tony guy doesn't get out of hand.'
"Michelle wasn't happy about having me going, either, but there was no way I wasn't going with her. I told her, 'Look, you can take me along openly or I'll just follow your scent and crash the party.' It didn't end there -- and Michelle has one Hell of a temper when she's roused -- but Luke and I weren't budging. She finally gave in.
"Michelle had settled down by the time we left for the party. I'd kicked up my senses and could tell she was nervous about the party; and not just because I was going to be there. I think she was a little relieved I was going, actually. We were just going to walk from Luke's apartment because this Tony guy lives in a big loft near the university. Get this, the guy's a student! Michelle says he's already got a dozen different degrees but keeps going back to college because there's plenty of prey there.
"What a sleaze bag, right? Michelle could tell I was getting angry just thinking about this guy. She pulled me off the sidewalk to sit on a park bench, looked in my eyes and said, 'You can't let this get to you, Hank! If you go up to Tony and go alpo on him, he's going to have you killed! He'll order all of his children -- that's what he calls us -- to kill you. And we will do it! None of us will want to, but it is impossible for us to disobey our sire!'
"I hadn't realized the connection was that strong. 'So that's why Tony keeps siring more vampires? So he can have a bunch of slaves who have to do his bidding?' I asked her.
"Michelle shook her head, 'No. Or not entirely, anyway. Tony loves ordering us around, especially if he's ordering us to do something he knows we don't want to do. But the main reason he sires more vampires is so he can live forever.'
"I know I must have looked confused. Michelle took my hands, 'A vampire who feeds from other vampires doesn't age and will never die as long as he has vampires to feed from. Hank, don't let Tony' apparent age fool you. He's 319 years old!'
"What she had said surprised. Not that Tony was 319, but that vampires didn't automatically live forever. 'I thought vampires were, you know, undead and lived forever.'
"Michelle actually laughed a bit. 'That's just a typical misunderstanding. We get old and die, just like everyone else. Unless we do what Tony does, and most of us would rather die than become a sire!' She poked me in the ribs. 'Have I ever felt cold in your arms? I'm just as alive as you are. I just have a different disease than you.'
"'So you don't have to put a stake through a vampire's heart to kill him?' I asked.
"Michelle grimaced, 'That part is true, more or less. You know how you can heal from almost any wound when you're transformed? Vampires are like that all the time. As long as our blood flows, we can heal from most wounds. Something that causes us to bleed out quickly might kill us, but a stake through heart is the only sure way.'
"All of that was news to me! On the other hand, I was glad the lively, warm girl I'd been holding was, well, still a live warm girl!
"A few minutes later we got to Tony's loft. It looked mighty expensive for a student, but I guess a guy could make a lot of money in 300 years! The place was crowded when we entered, conversation buzzing. There was also something like a reception line waiting to talk this guy who looked like he was 19 or 20. He was lounging in a fancy chair, looking all the world like he was the king of the world. I figured that had to be Tony.
"The minute I stepped into the room behind Michelle, the conversation just stopped and everyone in the room turned to look at me. It's freaky having 30 pairs of eyes trained on you when you know every pair of eyes belongs to a vampire!
"Tony spoke in a voice with the whip crack of command in it. 'Michelle. Front and center. Now. And bring your...guest.'
"Michelle turned to grab my hand and I could tell she wasn't fully there. Her eyes were glazed and didn't show any emotion. I figured this must be that whole 'must obey' bit she'd told me about. With surprising force, Michelle dragged me to stand before Tony.
"Tony looked me up and down, 'Michelle, why have you brought this...creature...before me?'
"When she answered, her voice was flat and emotionless. 'He's my boyfriend, Sire. He insisted on coming so he could protect me.'
"Not exactly information I wanted spoken aloud in a room full of vampires, let me tell you! Tony turned those laser beam eyes on me, 'Most amusing, puppy boy. Don't the elders of your mangy kind pass along any knowledge to their pups any more? Don't they teach you to keep your wet little noses out of the business of your betters?'
"That was it! I snapped and transformed right there. As I leaped at Tony's throat, I heard Michelle cry out, 'No Hank!' But it was too late for her cry and too late for Tony. At least that's what I thought. Tony moved so fast I could barely see it with my enhanced senses. He was on his feet, holding me by the throat before I got within a foot of him.
"My back paws swung above the ground and my front paws weren't having any effect on the hand that was holding me. 'Bad doggy! You need to be punished,' Tony said to me. Turning to Michelle, he said, 'And you're going to do the punishing, Michelle.'
"Michelle had tears in her eyes, 'No, Tony! Please-'
"'Enough!' Tony said, using the whip crack voice again. 'You will drain this beast dry and then you will plunge a silver knife into its heart.'
"I could see Michelle was fighting against the command with all her will. And I could see she was losing. But forcing his will on Michelle was taking all of Tony's attention. It was the only chance I was going to get, so I took it!
"I reverted back to human form and my much smaller neck slipped right out of Tony's grasp. I transformed back to wolf form just as my back feet hit the floor. Pushing off from the floor, I lunged underneath Tony's outstretched hand. He attention was just turning to me when I ripped out his throat. Tony's hands flew to stop the flow of blood from his throat until he could heal. And that's when I ripped open his ribcage and feasted on his still beating heart! Tony had just enough time to look at the gaping hole in his chest before his eyes clouded over and he died.
"Everything was really quiet for a few seconds and then someone said, 'He killed Tony!' Then others took it up, too. 'He killed Tony!' and 'Tony's dead!' I started looking around for a quick exit!
"Then Michelle grabbed me in a great big hug and started scratching behind my ears. I was still in wolf form and she knows I love that. 'That's my alpo!' she said. 'Way to go, Hank!'
"And just like that, the spell broke and everyone started cheering. I transformed back to human form and got a big kiss on the mouth from Michelle. When she pulled back to take a breath I asked, 'Why aren't they trying to beat me to death for killing their sire?'
"Michelle laughed, 'You're kidding, right? None of us liked Tony! God, we all hated him more than you can imagine! But it's impossible for any vampire to kill their sire. I didn't think you could, either, really, and that's why I didn't want you to come along.' She kissed me again. 'But you did it! You freed us from Tony!'
"The rest of the evening is kind of a blur. When they're not being lorded over by their sire, the vampires turned out to be a pretty wild bunch! Everyone kept bringing me drinks. They even offered to let me devour the rest of Tony. I wasn't really hungry but I knew it would be easier for them if there wasn't a body to be found. I swear, those vampire cheered every bite I took!
"After a few hours, Michelle and I headed back to her place and... Well, a gentleman doesn't tell!"
[Miguel: "Dude! You left that part out when you told me about it.]
"Well, that's all you're going to hear, so don't bug me about it. I do have one question, though.
"With all the excitement, we totally forgot about the game. Who won?"
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