House Rules

Fred makes quick work of the hash and eggs, but as he licks his lips, they and the rest of his face start to retreat inward. His fur and fangs diminish, and you soon share a booth with a man oblivious to his nakedness. The werewolf-tolerant waitress has to draw the line somewhere, and she whistles and points to the sign at the entrance.

"Hey! No shirt, no shoes, no service," she informs Fred. He is asleep. "Sir, you have to do something about your naked friend," she instructs you. You hardly have touched your pancakes.

Written by Joey Liverwurst

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