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About Literature / Hobbyist Joey LiverwurstMale/United States Groups :iconwerewolvesatheart: WerewolvesAtHeart
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Literature
Enlightenment
The credits scrolled, and Damon returned to reality. He stretched his arms.
"You missed a good movie!" he called out to no one there.
11:00. Too soon for bed, and besides, he was hungry. He rose from the recliner and ambled across the apartment. Kyle's door was closed of course, so he knocked.
"Yeah?"
"I'm thinking of going out. You interested?"
Just as Damon was about to walk away, Kyle provided the first of several surprises.
"Sure, why not."
"Whoa, really? Awesome! You wanna transform? I can bring along the Frisbee."
"Yeah, but don't bother with the Frisbee."
"Cool, I'll get ready!"
Damon slipped off his socks and smiled as his feet disappeared under thick sepia fur. Large claws poked out almost absurdly, and pads pushed him another inch closer to the ceiling. He bounced back and forth, anticipating a night out with his old friend.
Finally, Kyle's door creaked open, and Kyle tiptoed out looking more like a Pomeranian than a wolf. Behind one ear was a feather.
"What's with the feathe
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Literature
Francis Hart's Hallowe'en Spectacular!
"What about here?"
"OK."
Francis pulled over and parked his sedan parallel to the highway.
"So particular about everything," Rachel chided him.
"I don't want an infraction."
"Are you sure? Nurse Rachel will take good care of you."
Francis shook his head, unfastened his seat belt, and loosened his tie in that order.
"You're not taking your clothes off already, are you?"
"What? No, just my tie."
"Good. Let me take off the rest!"
"Rachel… why don't you get the beer out of the back?"
She dimmed but did as suggested.
Francis got out the other side and patted his pockets.
"Now, why don't we take a walk in the woods?"
"I thought you'd never ask! Nurse Rachel will loosen you up if it takes all night. Well, at least till I have to get back for the costume party. I still can't believe you're dressed like that."
"Rachel, we still have to put together a plan for you some time."
"Do you care about anything besides insurance?"
"Rachel, I do not care about insurance. I care about selling insur
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Literature
Off Night
Mat ought to have been an actor. He had a smile that seemed sincere no matter how full of rage he was. Behind a cash register, that came in very handy!
Paul was a good guy, too. As much as Mat wanted to blame him, he lacked legitimate basis. Chris couldn't come into work last minute, and Paul couldn't find anyone else to take the shift. Against his better judgment, Mat agreed and hated himself for it.
Only six hours, Mat reminded himself: shorter than any school day. Before he knew it, he could go home and—oh, yeah, he hadn't gone inside yet.
Forgetting his signature smile, Mat entered the café and stomped past the counter for an apron.
"Toodle-oo," chirped the new girl, already halfway to the door.
Mat put on Led Zeppelin and tried not to feel sorry for himself. It wasn't that big a deal. It was just one night. He didn't have a hot date or a ticket to some expensive event. Besides, there were… eight people in line he hadn't noticed until right now. Awkward.
And so
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Literature
Still Time
"Thanks again for coming here with me," George gushed. He kept turning to hoist his son onto his shoulders, then remembering his son was easily twice his size.
"Don't mention it," Trevor returned.
The landing looked the same as George had remembered after all these years. Well, almost the same. Maybe starting to show its years, but heh, so was he. All right, so not quite the same. Actually really run down. George winced.
Trevor wore a poker face, but just then he broke into a whistle.
"It's better around breakfast than lunch, but I'm just glad you could come at all. Thanks again," George babbled.
"Don't mention it," Trevor murmured. "I mean, you're welcome. Dad."
"This'll be just like old times! We'll sit, and fish, and stop and have sandwiches, except Tessie made them instead of your mother."
"Yeah. I love you, Dad."
They situated themselves on the dock, and George set down a blanket and arranged their equipment on it. Trevor tried to help, but George had a system and stuck to it, so
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Literature
Dinner Guest
George brightened at the knock at the door. It was "Shave and a Haircut," the same knock he always gave. He still looked through the peephole but knew all along who it was.
"Trevor!" he exclaimed once the door was unchained.
Green eyes glinted in the dark, and strong arms balanced a bouquet of daffodils and a plate wrapped in plastic.
"I'd hug you, but then you'd be wearing these," Trevor explained. He entered and set everything down on the dining room table. "OK, now," he suggested, arms outstretched.
George embraced his son, but with lips pursed. Trevor took care not to hurt him.
"You know," George said, "it's a shame to wear such a nice suit with all that scruff on your face."
"It's fur, Dad," Trevor retorted.
The kitchen door opened, and a tall, thin woman of about forty approached with a bowl of potato salad.
"Tessie!" Trevor yelped, and ran across the room to nuzzle her before she could put the bowl down. She giggled, sounding significantly younger.
"Help with anything?" Trevor i
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Literature
Closed Session
Florida! Why did it have to be Florida?
Joe hated Florida. Tourist traps and old people too stupid to read a ballot. As a result, eight years of George W. Bush, although it did lead to some pretty good music.
Joe had wanted to go to North Carolina. He had heard wonders about Charlotte barbecue and Research Triangle Park, but North Carolina was the worst state for unions. Hardly anybody was attending the convention over it. So, Florida it was.
Maybe he could get a big juicy story no one else could. Catch delegates drunk or doing drugs, really hard drugs. With hookers. That would be the ticket, and he could move up to some bigger, better paper.
He called out to a cabbie. "Hola! Donde es el convention center?"
"Get in," instructed the driver.
"Yo soy journalista," Joe gushed. "Te gusta los taxis?"
"English, please."
"Oh. All right."
The car left the airport.
"You know today's cancelled, right?"
"Mmm, heard something about that. Maybe I can still catch them saying something shocking, thoug
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Literature
Never Too Old
"That was the lamest one yet!" Glenn snickered.
"It was pretty bad," Kevin admitted, "but not as bad as Strawberry Shortcake."
"Thanks for reminding me. Yeah, that was even worse."
"Good candy, though."
"Mmm," Glenn assented through a mouthful of Skittles.
The zombie and the pirate approached the little blue house and followed an arrow to the back door.
"Betcha this one sucks," Glenn said as he pressed the doorbell. Suddenly, the door flew open to reveal a short flight of stairs.
"Trick or treat?" Kevin asked hopefully.
A meaty paw reached around the door, and Glenn did a spit-take. A diminutive werewolf emerged from the house and howled for dramatic effect.
"What are you supposed to be, Curious George?" Glenn scoffed.
The werewolf howled again and held out a plastic pumpkin brimming with sweets. Kevin carefully selected a Butterfinger, whereas Glenn grabbed whatever would fit in his sticky gray hand.
"Thanks," Kevin mumbled.
The werewolf barked, and two rivulets of drool fell onto the
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Literature
Low Tide
"Hey," Heather called out from the back door. "I thought of something."
"What's that?" Frank asked absent-mindedly as he blended blue and red to make ocean water.
"We haven't been swimming since last summer."
"Oh, you're right," Frank said, surprised. "We should practice before we go to Florida."
"Two steps ahead of you! Put your trunks on."
"But it's dark out, and we're miles from the lake," Frank sputtered.
"Just trust me," Heather teased. "I'll go change, too. Race you!"
With his best skeptical smile, Frank put down his pencils and headed for the bedroom. Heather already was in the closet to get her swimsuit. Frank went to the dresser and dug around for his trunks. He finally found them, and with a shrug, undressed to put them on.
To his dismay, they barely stayed up. He tugged at the drawstring, but willpower was still all that kept them from sagging. "Heather?" he whimpered.
His wife emerged from the closet with the same predicament; both bikini top and bottom were too loose for c
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Literature
Looking Up
Aaron fumed.
It was his day off, and here he was at work anyway, two hours to close. He hated training people, but tomorrow was a big day, and he would pay for it in the long run if he put it off. He had been home alone, wasting time, but the principle of it still bothered him. He practically lived here these days.
He exited the car and slammed the door. Then he noticed a young man, probably a college student, standing at the edge of the parking lot. He was on the grass, looking straight up at the night sky. A full moon gleamed overhead.
In his funk, Aaron had forgotten the full moon! It almost always cheered him up. He smiled and called out to the stranger, "Hope I didn't disturb you."
There was no response, and Aaron stopped to stare at the full moon for a while himself. He felt better. He laughed, remembering his childhood experiment to see how long it took for the full moon to turn him into a werewolf. He had been a weird kid, and proud of it.
"It's beautiful, but it doesn't do any
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Literature
Vindication
The good news was, he was telling the truth; Rusty really wasn't the werewolf. The bad news was, the silver bullet still killed him instantly.
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Mature content
Fawn Over :iconjoeyliverwurst:JoeyLiverwurst 93 149
Literature
Defective
Chad stood in his driveway, admiring his handiwork. The vintage Mustang gleamed like some giant emerald. There was still wax to wipe off, but not on the paint.
Chad hardly could have asked for a better Saturday. Summer was over, but warm weather had returned for one last gasp. After two weeks of sweaters and corduroys, he circled the car in a polo shirt and shorts, not a care in the world.
Tweet!
As one awakened from the best dream ever, Chad was slow to source the sound. Mosquitoes? Surely not, though there might be some at sunset. Birds? No, way too ugly, unless pterodactyls were back from the dead. And besides, those technically were lizards anyway.
Tweet!
There it was again. Tornado siren? Fat chance, without a cloud in the sky. Maybe an ambulance, or a fire engine off in the distance—
Uh-oh.
Chad could feel it in his teeth, and his nails to a lesser extent: the change was upon him. Instinctively, he backed away from the car, so as not to scratch it. We all have
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Literature
Karen and the Unexpected Transformation
"Where is he?"
"This is ridiculous."
"Excuse me. Ma'am?"
"You'll have to come closer. I can't hear you."
"That's better. What can I do for you?"
"I was wondering if you'd seen a friend of mine."
"What's he look like?"
"Well, he's not a friend exactly. He's sort of the narrator."
"That still doesn't tell me what he looks like."
"Have you seen anyone around here tonight?"
"Besides you?"
"Yeah."
"Oh! There was this one fellow. He was waiting over there by those columns, when all of a sudden, he turned into a werewolf and ran off."
"How could you tell he was waiting?"
"He kept looking around aimlessly, and he was holding a pen and paper but not writing anything."
"Great, that must have been him."
"Well, if it was, I assure you he was in no condition to be narrating anything."
"Now what am I supposed to do?"
"What are you asking me for?"
"All I know is, there's supposed to be an unexpected transformation tonight, and he's supposed to take notes."
"I told you he turned into a werewolf. Are y
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Literature
Courtship
Gretchen was on page 76 of The Prisoner of Zenda when Terry introduced himself.
"Hey, pretty lady," he slurred.
Gretchen looked up to see a man in a tatty grey suit.
"Are you lonely?" he inquired.
Gretchen choked because she could taste the bourbon on his breath. She cleared her throat, then said, "No, thank you."
"I'm lonely," Terry informed her, and just stood there.
"I'm sorry," Gretchen sputtered, trying to focus on a gazebo in the distance instead of Terry slouched over her.
"I'll love and protect you!" Terry offered.
"I beg your pardon?" Gretchen asked out loud without meaning to.
"I'll love and protect you, pretty lady," Terry reaffirmed.
"Protect me from what?"
"Monsters."
"Oh, I don't believe in monsters," Gretchen scoffed. Now she was more annoyed than scared.
"Not even lawyers?" Terry asked.
Gretchen went back to reading The Prisoner of Zenda.
"I got a St. Christopher's Medal," Terry boasted. Like Terry, it had seen better days. Terry threw out his hand to show
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Literature
Pool Party
Tom was giddy. Here was his chance to prove himself capable to his friends! As a new homeowner, he had not only a place to host parties, but also an above ground pool and deck. Rather than be late to everything, he could take credit for organizing everything. His best friends, Jack and Stephen, were somewhat skeptical.
"You haven't even unpacked, and already you want to host a party?" Stephen scoffed.
"You've heard of a housewarming party!" Tom insisted.
"Tom," Jack interjected, "you don't throw those for yourself. That's telling people to get you gifts."
"Fine," Tom said. "We'll call it a cookout, backyard barbecue, whatever. Pool party."
"Do you even know how to operate a pool?" quizzed Stephen.
"How hard can it be?" laughed Tom. "Fill it up with water, and all the pool stuff's in the garage."
"Give him a break," Jack told Stephen. "He's got a point. How hard can it be?"
Stephen avoided eye contact but relented.
Saturday, Tom was almost ready. He had ribs to barbecue, napkins, the go
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Literature
Tonic
Roy could barely believe his luck. He and Matheson got along all right, but Matheson was strictly business. No sense of humor. No sense of adventure.
But Matheson had sent him the most incredible voice mail. Apparently, Matheson had tried a new energy drink, mutated from it, and called Roy to tell him about it. So out of character, and yet, all Roy cared about was seeing for himself.
If not for energy drinks, Roy could hardly do his job. He didn't drink tea, coffee, or even cola. Every morning, however, he threw back one or two energy drinks and coasted on that until lunch. But for all the "monster" and "power" imagery, he never had noticed much more than caffeine. Matheson wasn't one to exaggerate, though.
Roy approached the vending machine like a child on Christmas morning. Right away, he noticed the new can in the third row. It was sky blue, slender, nothing out of the ordinary. With sweaty palms, Roy sifted through his pockets and produced exact change. He pressed each coin hard th
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Journal
I'm Back!
Thought I'd post all the stuff I did in 2016 :).  Get ready for a HUGE update!
Hope Everyone is doing well! :D
I'll be posting new stuff here as it comes from now on :)
-Rob
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Activity


Jen was a bad girl. There was a knock at the door. "A werewolf!" Jen said.

The werewolf killed her. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jen's boyfriend said. He killed the werewolf.

He was haunted the rest of his life, and the town was never the same again. He also developed diabetes.
Jen and the Werewolf
I don't want to be mean, so I won't explain this one.
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JoeyLiverwurst
Joey Liverwurst
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
Being a werewolf and forgetting about the full moon is like running for President and forgetting about Election Day.
Hey, Wolfketeers!  Long time, no howl.

I have exciting news, I hope:  I have a new story for the first time in over a year.  In fact, plenty of people do!  A whole pack of us has been hard at work on a project called Werewolves Versus.  It's an all-werewolf quarterly, and you can pay whatever you want for it.  It just came out a few hours ago.

Please check it out here and let me know what you think.

Love,

Joey

Comments


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:iconjoeyliverwurst:
JoeyLiverwurst Featured By Owner Sep 2, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
But of course!
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:iconoboroten:
oboroten Featured By Owner Mar 23, 2016
Thanks for the fave.
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:iconjoeyliverwurst:
JoeyLiverwurst Featured By Owner Mar 23, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
My pleasure!
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:iconchris-bennier:
Chris-Bennier Featured By Owner Jan 18, 2016  Professional Digital Artist
Hey thanks for saying hi and for the birthday wishes. I don't know if I'm back yet or not. I mean I am on and off from time to time but have been so incredibly busy. It's good to hear from you though, thanks again. I hope all is well with you my friend.
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