August 29, 2011

• Single Werewolf & A Zombie Hoard

  A lone figure entered Oland’s Bar, to be greeted with a mixture of surprise and cheer by his friend, Luis.  He was a regular at Oland’s, but his visit tonight was somewhat unexpected.  The bartender was already finishing pouring a mug of beer.  Chaney knew his regulars well.  “Felicitations lord Fenrisúlfr Hroðgeirr.”  Luis greeted his friend with a grin.  Jon had gone through a “phase” in highschool, and his friend made a life long goal to make sure the “Lord” never forgot.   “Not in the mood man.”  Jon replied.  “And besides”  Jon grinned “it’s ‘Hróðgeirr’.”

  “Figures.” Luis retorted “I thought you were suppose to be on a date tonight.  Trouble with Janice?” asked the Luis.  “Like you won’t believe…” Sighed Jon.  The mug of beer had arrived.  Jon thanked the Chaney, picked up the mug and habitually brought it up to his face to drink, and thought for a half a second. “Goddammit!”  He put the mug down on the table with visible self restraint.  “Why me?  How the hell people like these find ME?!” “You okay man?  What happened?” Luis inquired.  “What happened?”  Jon furiously lapped away at the beer in the mug.  “Let’s just say she’s got issues!” Jon continued unhappily. “She’s into guys that dress up as werewolves.  Turns out she’s not into actual werewolves.  I mean… what the hell…!?”  Jon had a few more laps of beer.   “I told you how we met, right, that thing with the noodles.  Well I thought she was … maybe… I don’t know… ‘the one’, ya’know? What with all the talks about ‘soul of a wolf trapped in a human body’ and getting in touch with her ‘inner beast’ and ‘animal spirit guides’ and…”  Lap.  “…’tolerance of those different from us’ all that?  Well ‘trapped in a human body’ my luxuriously furry ass!”  Lap.  “And we got along so well too… well until tonight, anyway.”  Lap.  “What happened?”  Luis repeated his query.  Jon took a deep breath.  “Well, she finally invites me to her place, right?”  Lap.  “I show up, well, ‘normal’ and she answers the door in this… this… like… cartoon wolf-in-a-thong-s&M-steam-punk-Nazi-helmet-costume… thing.”  Lap. “I ask her what this is about, and she’s all like how this is who she really is.  And then she asks where my costume is.”  Lap.  “You didn’t!”  Exclaimed Luis.  “Well, not at first.  But then she starts accusing me being another intolerant jerk just trying to get into her pants.”  Lap.  “I pointed out ‘she’ didn’t really have any pants on… heh… though on second thought, I guess I shouldn’t have done that.”  Crunch.

  A third member had approached the duo, with a bowl of Crunchy Kibble that had made Oland’s popular amongst his lycanthropic patrons.  “Oh hi Dana.” Luis greeted the newcomer.  “Hey guys, what’s up?”  Dana reciprocated as she sat down next to them.  “Jon… shouldn’t you be on…”  “Yeah…” Jon sighed and turned his attention to his beer again.  “Yeah, Jon was just talking about that.”  Luis disclosed.  “Turns out she’s into guys pretending to turn into werewolves, but not guys who can actually turn into werewolves.”  Jon sighed, lapped at his beer, and resumed.  “Anyways, I transformed, she freaked out even more.  I mean what the hell?!”  Lap.  “All the talks of open mindedness?  Out the window… sigh… anyways, I transformed back and she’s all like she can’t be with me ’cause it ‘Doesn’t feel right’ or something…”  Lap.  “And BAM!  It’s over just like that.”  “Oh I’m so sorry to hear that.”  Dana said before finishing her shot of chocolate milk.  “Anyways”  Jon began again “I figure why waste a goo-”

  There was something in the air.  They could smell it.  All the werewolves at Oland’s suddenly became visibly tense.  Observing the lycanthropes, the humans suddenly became very tense.  A bar full of werewolves becoming tense could only mean one thing. Zombies.

  Un-Dead pus-filled rotting bloated gassy zombies.

  Zombies were nothing new.  The city, and her citizens, had seen their fair share of zombie outbreaks.  And for most, it was an inconvenience.  Every once in a while, a new version of the B-Virus would emerge.  Named after one Dr. Bellamy who had the dubious fortune of not only being the creator of the B-Virus, but also it’s first victim.  The virus essentially… well turned it’s victims into zombies.  The problem was, the victims had to die in the process.  And while the B-Virus unscrewed all the brakes and set every single muscle cell to overdrive, it never really managed to reactivate anything else, most notably neurons, with the same level of effectiveness.  The results were limping, hungry, brain-dead zombies usually seen in zombie movies.

  Except low budget movies tended to leave out the full effects of decomposition.  As more and more microbes started to decomposing dead tissue, gasses such as hydrogen sulphide, carbon dioxide and methane would be produced, and accumulate over time.  When sufficient pressure was attained, the gas would escape through various natural orifices.  Though, occasionally the accumulated gases made their own orifice.  While mostly harmless, the major problem the zombies created was disposal.  Left to their own devices, zombie invasions resulted in rotten, putrid, foul smelling, bio hazardous remains strewn all over the place.  Remains that attracted insects, insect eating birds, and murders of carrion crows.  Nobody knew just how the crows came to be in North America, yet there they were, showing up in the aftermath of zombie outbreaks, along with their insect eating kin, and defecating even more bio hazardous waste all over everything.

  The preferred method of dealing with zombies was, therefore, to burn them before they had the chance to make a mess.  Aside from a few fiascoes in the beginning, the government sanctioned task force was usually on top of things.

  Needless to say, werewolves did not like zombies.  Their heightened senses made all the foul smells & sounds emitted by the zombie hoards that much more unpleasant.  Most preferred to go home, lock all the doors, windows & vents, and religiously employ the most powerful air fresheners they could afford.  Preferably while the the stereo blasted something to drown out the noise of a thousand excessively noisy zombies.  Transforming into human forms did not diminish the werewolves’ heightened senses.

  Jon, Luis & Dana headed out for Luis’ apartment.  It was the closest.  Plus he had a sweet sound system.  And Rock Band 2.  Already, the night around them was alive with the cacophony of a thousand rude bodily noises, uncoordinated singing if it can be called that, and a few fleshy explosions.

  Two blocks away from Luis’ apartment, they encountered a pair of flatulent, zombies limping down the side walk, idly swatting at passers-by.  One of them kept making a noise with his mouth not entirely dissimilar to Auto-Tune.  People hurriedly went about their destinations, staying just out of their range of reach, and trying not to throw up.  Humans fared better than werewolves.  The air smelled so badly, it almost hurt physically.  Dana’s regret over her decision of chocolate milk continued to increase.  The trio quickened their pace.

  • 1:20 am
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