16 working hours, an 8AM meeting, and no lunch sucks. Finding cabs on rainy Thursday midnights is im-fucking-possible. So, to put it lightly, I’ m not having a stellar day to begin with as I head home, ratty umbrella failing against the wet.

The 7-foot psycho in the wolf costume isn’t helping. This is new. A year in the city, y’see a lot of weird people. Weird people. May think y’seen it all. But this dude could fool Red Riding Hood, what with the slavering tongue, the panting… odd that a dude on the street smelling that bad’s not just asking for change, maybe pissing a little.

Funny thing is, seems like the guy’s following me. Ignore, head down, walk faster. Being that tall means you have long legs, though, and the son of a bitch (hah!) keeps right up.

I duck into my apartment building. He comes in after me and tackles me, growls about someone’s Grandma. At this point I realize, uh, no costume, this is a fucking wolf. My turn to piss a little, and now my jugular’s torn out… not a good day today.