Pig in shit.

Hey all-

Here I am writing you again, I'm on day 2 in the cage. It really isn't that bad. Williamson's pad has a big screen TV with a playstation attached, so me and Jeff can play some vids. It's pretty sweet. It turns out that not only was this dude a werewolf hunter, but also a trust fund kid. This neighborhood's full of 'em.

Come to think of it, if I was asked four weeks ago what the best way to neutralize a werewolf was, I probably would have come up with something silly, like silver bullets or wolfsbane, whatever the hell that is.

As it turns out, you can pretty much keep a couple of werewolves happy with a roomy cage, a cushy chair, takeout from Sparky's, a fat bag of weed and a copy of the new Rumble Roses game.

Being a werewolf is scary and all, but mud-wrestling chicks are mud wrestling chicks.

Go ahead and deny it.

Alyssa claims to be offended by it, but she gets into it when she plays. Plus, she's the one who brought it home.

Anyway, I promised I'd tell you guys about the first transformation today, so here goes- I apologise if it's long.

Let me start by saying that it would be nice if someone out there would TELL ME IF I GET THE CYCLES OF THE MOON WRONG.

Cause it can be awkward is all.

I was sure that the full Moon was going to fall on Friday the 26th, and I believe I made reference to that fact several times. I figured all I would have to do is have Thanksgiving with my grandparents Thursday, get on a bus early enough Friday to be back in Brooklyn before nightfall, and then climb up to my roof.

So I have a lovely dinner with my Grandparents, parents, my brother and his wife, and my cousins Peter and Cameron. We ate around 4:30, and Jesus Christ did I pig out. I mean, whatever, it's Thanksgving- the holiday of gluttony, but damn, did I eat. I didn't think I could POSSIBLY eat any more that day.

It turned out I was wrong.

After dinner, I collapsed into bed for a turkey nap with my whole family in the next room watching football and having a fine time.

You know that weird feeling you get when you wake up from a nap on thanksgiving and you just feel out-of-sorts? Well nothing really snaps you out of that logy feeling more than STARTING TO TURN INTO A WOLF.

You heard me.

There was a full moon on Thursday.

I wasn't expecting this until Friday, so I was pretty upset.

I started to feel it coming on, that rising wave of panic and I just lost it. I ripped off my clothes, and ran naked through the living room, past Granny and Grampy, Mom, Dad and the whole crew, and dashed straight out the front door.

I was screaming at the time.

If it weren't so scary, I can imagine that it might have looked kind of funny. You know, a whole room full of old people, calmly watching TV, and then a screaming naked guy bolts through.

Anyway, I blast through the door, and head out into the woods, with two of my cousins chasing me, shouting my name. I can feel the moon blazing down on me, and I hear a sickening snap from my back.

I fell to the ground, rolled over on my back, and screamed "Get Away From Me!"

I really don't know if I had started to transform at that point or not, but let's be honest here.

There was something about the way I shouted it, kind of a half-yell, half, well- roar, that sent a pretty clear message.

Still about 30 yards behind me, they stopped in their tracks and ran back towards the house.

As they ran, the transformation began in earnest- the same sickening cracks and bristling of hair, and the power- Jesus, I can't even tell you, it's like your body is expanding not from any biological need but just because there is so much goddamn POWER surging through you that your body has to expand to simply make room for it.

I don't know how long it takes to actually transform into the wolf, but I will tell you that my cousins had a pretty good head start before I was back up and on their tails.

It's funny, I had no idea which way I was running when I headed into the woods, but the path back could not have been quicker, as the scents of my cousins blazed a trail so clear that there was no doubt in my mind about which way to run.

I was running on all fours, following the scent with a singularity of purpose that was chilling. I mean, I was semi conscious, and I knew that these guys were my cousins, but that didn't matter. I was hungry again, and I was eating those motherfuckers.

It was dusk, pretty close to dark as I broke through the underbrush surrounding my grandparents house, and saw Peter lagging behind as he ran through the yard. Cameron had gotten to the door, and was screaming "Run! Run!"

Peter looked behind him, saw me and fell down.

Triumphant, I lept up on a stump and howled at the moon, just totally let it rip.

Goddamn, does that feel awesome.

Fortunately, that was a mistake.

Thank God, Peter was smart enough to take advantage of it, and he got up and started scrambling towards the house again.

I lept off the stump, and landed running on all fours, leaping into the air with my mouth agape and my claws extended, ready to rip into his flesh.

When the door slammed shut, with Peter on the other side, it hit me right in the face, knocking several teeth from my mouth.

It's bullshit that they don't grow back by the way. I mean I grow whole new wolf teeth whenever I change, but know that I knocked a couple out, I don't ever grow them back?

It sucks, I look like a goddamn pirate now.

I was knocked backwards several feet from the impact and lay there for a moment, kind of dazed, when the shots began.

My grandfather was leaning out the window of the house with a rifle, firing off rounds into my back- which kind of hurt.

Who knows, maybe it does take a silver bullet to kill a werewolf, cause I must have gotten shot about 5 times before I started to notice anything but the noise of it. Also, when I changed back, the bullets just oozed right out of my body. I found them laying all around me when I woke up in the woods the next day. It was pretty cool.

Anyway, when he started shooting at me- I took one more blast at the door, knocking a chunk out it with my shoulder, and then took off for the woods. It wasn't really the bullets that bothered me, but the sound of that rifle was fucking loud, man- and I wasn't into it.

I ran back to the forest, which actually made me feel better- for some reason I was uncomfortable in wide open spaces, and just being in the clearing by the yard was kind of stressful for me. So I loped back to the forest, and just ran, man.

Like really cruised through the woods.

That Moose never knew what hit him.

I smelled him from about two miles away, and was at full goddamn speed when I burst out of a thicket and took his fucking head off with one smooth motion.

I was in the air, and as he turned to see what was coming, I buried my right paw into his windpipe and pulled, came down with my fangs just above it, and with my left hand, grabbed ahold of his antlers and twisted.

The entire head seemed to slide off his body like butter, and as I rolled away with it, I turned for a moment and saw a headless moose just standing there- shooting blood from where it's head should have been like a huge, four-legged gore fountain, just spraying up into the moonlight.

The spray of blood slowed and the body fell with a thud.

Then I ate the shit out of it.

I woke up in the woods naked the next morning early and managed to find a road.

I had no idea where I was.

You'd think that it might be easy going once I found the road, but lemme tell you something: People are hesitant enough to pick up a hitchhiker at all in this day and age, but when that hitchhiker is naked and covered in blood at 5:00 in the morning the day after Thanksgiving, that hesitation is somewhat intensified.

I got picked up by a cop after waliking the road for a couple hours, and got taken into the station.

I called my grandparents house and my brother came and picked me up.

I guess my cousins thought I was attacked by the wolf, cause they didn't mention anything about seeing me change. Who knows what the actual timetable was- my memory of it is a little hazy still.

My parents are concerned obviously, but I got them off the scent.

I told them I was on heroin.

They put me back on a the Fung Wah bus around noon and made me promise to go to rehab when I got back to Brooklyn.

The only problem?

There's a lot of traffic the day after thanksgiving, and the sun sets early in November.

I'll tell you about the bus ride tomorrow.

It was kinda ugly.