The Weird Werewolf

The Werewolf had put pomade in his hair and some cologne he couldn't pronounce all over himself (including his crotch), before morphing into his Werewolf form. So now he was a Werewolf with a soccer player's head of hair, smelling like a fucking frat boy. 

He'd stopped keeping track of the full moons because with how long he'd lived—having them as a surprise made him feel anything at all. 

So he wandered into the forest behind his house, tripping over roots and rocks. I'm bushwhacking it, he thought. Great. 

Sandra knew about his final form. She fucking knew him. In all his centuries on earth he'd told no one but her about who he really was. And he wasn't sure why he'd done it. 

He had been fucking sober when he told her! In his car. She was coked up. But he had just been sipping a Diet Dr. Pepper while parked in his Corolla overlooking some river just north of NYC. 

She had finished a small walk with him, and he truly hadn't found her entirely interesting. Like she wasn't boring, but he hadn't felt that SPARK with her.

Ah, yes, now he remembered the moment he'd decided to tell her. She'd raised her eyebrow at him as they'd danced (very poorly), to some music playing from his small Bluetooth speaker. Too much treble, he remembered thinking. 

But that raised eyebrow told him she wanted him. And he felt her look away from him, almost to hide her interest. And he'd been so allured by that shit!

Ah, fuck. He tripped on a root and came back to being a Werewolf in a forest. 

He laughed. 

Why had he never told anyone about his true form before? Sure Sandra could go and tell someone, "Hey bitches! Chris is a fucking Werewolf!"

WHO WOULD BELIEVE HER. 

Chris rolled on the ground laughing hysterically. But then stopped rolling cuz he remembered he had a blunt in his pocket that he was likely crushing. Ah fuck! No he didn't cuz his fucking pants had ripped off when he'd transformed to a Werewolf. 

That just made him laugh all the more. God it's like I've never transformed at all before!

And in that moment, he stared at the full moon, remembering his cursed form. But no longer caring. And that was the first time he hadn't cared in a long time. The first time he'd laughed in a long time. 

Thank you, Sandra.