Walking and stumbling through the moonlit forest Wereman ambles, stambles and sloops his way towards the barely noticeable scent of a pack of wolves playing in the mountain glen next to a tarn. He's hungry. Hungry for greasy, salty foods that need to be washed down his fur coated gullet with fermented grain and a hint of motor oil, Valvoline...'cause he's a man, and men like Valvoline., it sounds so close to vulva...vulvaline...mmmm....lubricants. He's sleepwalking. There is no way in Hell or Heaven would he be barefoot in a forest searching for a wolf pack at 3am...but he is.
He must bite them.
It is his destiny. His curse.
He was cursed by a 73 year-old Indian man working at a 6/12 convenience store. That's right...6/12. They're 2 better than that other place. Wereman was complaining that the hot dogs (slightly fatter Slim Jims) were severely over cooked and the espresso mocha coffee maker was just spattering brown powder chunks. The late night manager overheard and yelled at the newly appointed cashier Ashok Ganesh...73...hemorrhoids...dandruff...and just plain mad that he's working the graveyard shift when he could be watching his Baywatch Season 4 DVD collection. Ashok, funnily enough means "without sadness", stared coldly at our main character and whispered under his breath an old curse that his family have used for eons. Eons, because the Ganesh family are immortals. They found their immortality from a special chutney blended with mangoes, spices, and a blue oil that was said to come from Krishna.
Ashok, muttering his family curse, set in motion the high adventures of Wereman. High adventures because if you are still reading this, you are pretty high.
Wereman, not hearing what Ashok said, knew it wasn't good. He could smell the chutney from aisle 4 and Ashok was on aisle 1. He made a dash for it, but it was too late. The curse took hold of him. A chill ran down his back like that first bite of late-night Mexican food that you knew you should have never touched, let alone put in your mouth. "Damn...reminds me of that gal I made out with until my tongue knocked her partial bridge from her teeth...yep...there is an evil moon out tonight and it just went down my pants..."
Later that night when he was asleep, he dreamed of wolves. Not running with wolves or being one, but biting them. Biting them and forever making them walk the Earth like a man and have to get a shitty job somewhere for little money, no cable television, no internet and only an old clam-flip-top cell phone. "Oh God." they thought, "What a nightmare."
FLASH FORWARD TO NOW:
Back in the forest...Wereman was closing in on the suspecting wolves. Suspecting, because they not only could they hear him, they could smell his Axe deodorant. They knew a man was coming...but what they didn't know was Wereman was coming.
To Be Continued...
He must bite them.
It is his destiny. His curse.
He was cursed by a 73 year-old Indian man working at a 6/12 convenience store. That's right...6/12. They're 2 better than that other place. Wereman was complaining that the hot dogs (slightly fatter Slim Jims) were severely over cooked and the espresso mocha coffee maker was just spattering brown powder chunks. The late night manager overheard and yelled at the newly appointed cashier Ashok Ganesh...73...hemorrhoids...dandruff...and just plain mad that he's working the graveyard shift when he could be watching his Baywatch Season 4 DVD collection. Ashok, funnily enough means "without sadness", stared coldly at our main character and whispered under his breath an old curse that his family have used for eons. Eons, because the Ganesh family are immortals. They found their immortality from a special chutney blended with mangoes, spices, and a blue oil that was said to come from Krishna.
Ashok, muttering his family curse, set in motion the high adventures of Wereman. High adventures because if you are still reading this, you are pretty high.
Wereman, not hearing what Ashok said, knew it wasn't good. He could smell the chutney from aisle 4 and Ashok was on aisle 1. He made a dash for it, but it was too late. The curse took hold of him. A chill ran down his back like that first bite of late-night Mexican food that you knew you should have never touched, let alone put in your mouth. "Damn...reminds me of that gal I made out with until my tongue knocked her partial bridge from her teeth...yep...there is an evil moon out tonight and it just went down my pants..."
Later that night when he was asleep, he dreamed of wolves. Not running with wolves or being one, but biting them. Biting them and forever making them walk the Earth like a man and have to get a shitty job somewhere for little money, no cable television, no internet and only an old clam-flip-top cell phone. "Oh God." they thought, "What a nightmare."
FLASH FORWARD TO NOW:
Back in the forest...Wereman was closing in on the suspecting wolves. Suspecting, because they not only could they hear him, they could smell his Axe deodorant. They knew a man was coming...but what they didn't know was Wereman was coming.
To Be Continued...