Game 2Game 2 Outline| Game 2 |
Game 2 Outline |
"We've got to figure out how to get back to human, Fred. Not how to get into your apartment," you say.
Fred shrugs, a weird thing for a wolf to do. It wrinkles his nose, which looks like a snarl, sort of, and your weasel self shudders and backs toward the bush's safety.
The smell of Fred's melting Ben and Jerry's floats on the breeze, and you sigh, and shudder again, and look ruefully at Fred's bleeding nose. "Who did you piss off, lately?" you ask.
Fred lays down and puts his nose between his paws. "I don't know anyone who can do things like this," he says. His voice is becoming a whine.
"Did I ask you that?" you say, then regret getting testy. "Ok, it might be someone you don't know. How long have you had this apartment? Or did you bump into someone in the grocery store and not say s'cuse me? Or did you forget your mother-in-law's birthday? You never know what a mother-in-law's capable of."
"Hey! I moved in last week. Been throwing away some weird letters addressed to the prior tenant, too. Stuff that smelled funny."
"Woah," you say. "Garbage I can get into." In more'n one way, you think, and head around to the side alley.
"You know," Fred says conversationally as he ambles behind you, "I've been wondering why I became a wolf. Wondered if it reflected my personality in some way."
You find the dumpster by its delightful smell. Hopping onto a crate, you lean against the greasy green side and push up on the plastic top. It's too heavy, and you glance down to Fred, who's sitting on the cobbles, scratching his chin with his back foot. "Give me a hand, here, would you?" you say.
"I mean," says Fred, frowning at the dumpster, "I was a bit of a ladies man, if you get my drift. Hence the wolf."
"Hey!" you say, and your voice sounds shrill and weaselly. "What are you implying?"
Fred gives you a startled glance, then barks in a manner that sounds suspiciously like laughter. "Nothing. Sorry. Must've been way off." Snickering, he shoulders awkwardly onto the crate with you and leaps to the dumpster's lid. "This other side is open." He peers down and grunts. "But I'm not going in there."
The smells are overwhelming, and you follow your nose. Scrambling onto the lid and running across to the open half of the dumpster, you dive right in.
"The mail smelled like sulphur, I think." Fred peers in at you, and you stop licking the inside of a cracked-open eggshell. "Yeah, just like sulphur and kinda dark, like it was mixed with smoke."
That didn't sound good. But you close your eyes and take deep breaths, and sure enough, the smell of dark sulphur rises from ahead and to the right--in a back corner of the dumpster.
Written by cat