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(If some depressing night when the future looks even more bleak than the past, a werewolf comes to your door, insert a silver bullet in your gun, and shoot him through the heart. For that is the only way to slay a werewolf.)

Perhaps I should first tell you what a werewolf is like. It was never adequately been described even by a werewolf’s bride.

The most frightening characteristic of a werewolf is that he is completely unreliable. That is made obvious by a toothy smile that flashes on and off like a traffic light with no substance other than evil behind it. It is entirely possible that while you are lulled into passivity, by the werewolf’s pleasant smile, he is planning to perform major surgery on you without benefit of doctor or even anesthetic. And the instruments he will probably use will be teeth and nails.

Some imaginative historians have pictured werewolves as unshaved, matted-haired, fang-toothed animals who growl their desires, meanwhile clutching and unclutching their hairy paws. But they are talking about an inferior grade of werewolf that frequent old castles and ancient cemeteries in a state of disrepair.

The more modern werewolf is sly and subtle and extremely clever. You have no idea where he might turn up in his amazing disguises. It is highly possible that the doorman who smiled when he opened the car door for you is a werewolf. Or it could be the garage mechanic or even the orator who tells you taxation with or without representation is no damned good.

Our werewolf was the latter type, suave, sophisticated, brilliant, romantic and dead. Yes, dead! And with a tarnished silver bullet in his left ventricle. But werewolves don’t bleed, they ooze, and if you extract the bullet, no matter where the wound, in a short enough span after their death, they return to life smiling and secure.

Waldo, was our werewolf, being dead on a mahogany slab in the morgue, of a cemetery on the outskirts of a town that shall be nameless because we have already had threats from the local chamber of commerce to keep the whole mess quiet.

Waldo was dead but not very dead. And lucky for him his friends, not sure as to whether he was a werewolf or not, had the city coroner and Ruth Anne Warren, his strikingly beautiful assistant, conduct an autopsy on Waldo.

So that sets the scene. There was Waldo lying pale and decaying on a slab and Coroner Sands and his assistant Ruth Anne Warren prepared to begin their autopsy.

As with all medical practitioners, Coroner Sands was susceptible to human error. He examined the body thoroughly nodded to Ruth for his medical kit and then made an incision under the heart.

It was his intention to first extract the bullet. It was a stupid thing to do. Everyone with the slightest knowledge of werewolves knows if you separate a werewolf from his silver bullet, he can return to life.

Coroner Sands held up the extracted bullet with an air of superiority to show his find to Ruth. It was his last air of superiority he was ever able to muster in this world.

Waldo shivered slightly, took one deep breath and then wrung the coroner’s neck with one hand until Coroner Sands’ tongue dropped to the dimple in his chin. It was all over in a moment even before the beautiful Ruth Anne Warren could protest volubly.

She realized she had other more pressing problems than reacting to the coroner’s demise. Waldo looked extremely angry and dangerous. A silver bullet in the heart will do it every time.

She made a sudden dash for the door without so much as an excuse me, but Waldo reached out an arm like a hook at a vaudeville show and dragged her back.

“You I won’t kill”, he grunted, “Maybe just maim you a bit.” Ruth was petrified. Only the day before she was talking about the possibility of an afterlife with a boyfriend of hers, and an afterlife, if there was one, was staring her right in the face.

“Please don’t hurt me, Mr. Werewolf,” she begged. “I am only 21 and I have at least 10 good years ahead of me yet.”

I forgot to mention that werewolves are very strong. Their diet includes such things as animal blood, ailing grandmothers and rancid chicken fat. And they also thrive in the night air.

Waldo had no intention of harming Ruth. She was too gorgeous for that. In one yank he pulled off her silk blouse and lace bra and left her standing defenseless against any young child who might come along who wanted his lunch.

Modestly, she crossed her arms over her breasts. Waldo, the werewolf, pulled her skirt, under-skirt and panties off with one yank. She stood beautifully naked except for blue ankle socks and moccasins She was a sight to behold.

Now werewolves like beautiful nude women just as much as non-werewolves, in fact even more. Waldo proceeded to have his way with Ruth on the mahogany slab where he once lay dead.

When it was over Ruth decided werewolves weren’t as bad as they are pictured. As for Waldo, he now was completely disinterested in Ruth. He took the silver bullet that once was in his heart and put it in his pocket.

At this precise moment in Paris (here the Chamber of Commerce doesn’t care what you say about the city), there were two medical students, Elvira and Genevieve, working on their thesis concerning Wanda de Nadasdy, a legendary witch and queen of the vampires.

You can see it all now, can’t you? Eventually the vampire woman would meet Waldo, the werewolf. Just as two famous boxers meet for a championship.

This conversation took place in Elvira’s study and went something like this:




Can we find a diviner somewhere? You place the rod over every grave in turn until the end of the rod turns red and glows. Then we know we have found a woman of demonic evil... a vampire witch.




And if we find her? If we find Wanda de Nadasdy?




Then our thesis will be proven. We substantiate all our research. We will be famous.




And I’ll be able to afford that fancy garter belt I saw in Mille’s Department Store window. Bob loves it.




That and an honorary medical degree and perhaps a husband too.




Something has been bothering me. Are the fingerprints of a dead vampire printable? Will they tell us anything?




Silly, you tell a vampire by her hollow eye teeth.




Okay, let’s go looking for her.


That’s what happened in Paris. Unfortunately they were overheard. The person who overheard their conversation was a French tour guide. That was his disguise. It was really Waldo. Werewolves hate vampires and they do everything possible to hunt them out and destroy them.

Once Waldo heard the girls would be seeking out a vampire he thought he would ingratiate himself with Genevieve and Elvira so that he could find the vampire in order to thoroughly destroy her.

But werewolves aren’t very sure of how to ingratiate themselves, that’s the trouble. Waldo made several mistakes.

The three made for the Cavalier Cemetery, where there had been nothing but rumors about strange happenings. The girls brought an iron spade and Waldo, nostrils distended in anticipation, did the digging. They dug according to rote, at the oldest grave in the cemetery.

After a bit, Waldo said, “I’m told that when you disturb a vampire’s grave you hear moans from below. But all I hear are stomach rumblings. One of you must be hungry.”

Elvira said, “Excuse me.”

Genevieve had the last word. “I told you not to eat so fast. You’d think every meal was your last.”

Waldo struck metal. “Son of a gun,” he muttered, “she must have been buried in a cannon.”

The girls hovered closer to the edge of the grave. Bluebirds flew about overhead and they lent the only bright spot to the scene. Waldo dug furiously. “This must have been a very strangely built vampire. The coffin, if that’s what it is, is square.” He scraped the earth from the box.

It was Elvira who brought some kind of sanity to the proceedings. “That’s not a coffin. It’s a chest. Do they bury people in chests?”

Genevieve said she never heard of anyone being buried in a chest unless it was some kind of small animal.

Waldo dug even harder until he could lift the chest with great effort out of the grave. “Whoever is in there,” he muttered, “should have been on a diet.”

He struck at the latch with the spade and after a few blows, the lid sprang open. All three gasped. Genevieve spoke first. “Well, I’ll be...” Elvira said, “Well, I’ll be...” And Waldo only grinned.

The eldest was full to the brim with gold coins, rare jewels and chunks of jade. “The grave of a pirate,” Waldo said. “We are rich.” He first thought of killing his new friends and have all the riches for himself, but then he wouldn’t be taken to the famed vampire

Genevieve said a prayer over the jewels. It was a solemn moment. Elvira wept, overcome with emotion.

Waldo fingered the jewels and said, “We’ll divide them equally. Half for me, half for you two.”

Elvira interrupted, “That’s not dividing them equally. It should be one-third each.”

“All right,” Waldo said pleasantly, “one-third each. Then I might kill you and have it all for myself.”

They thought he was fooling.

Soon the three walking single file with Waldo bringing up the rear carrying the trunk full of jewels, marched through town to the nearest pawn shop. It took eleven pawn shops before they had exchanged all the jewels for money.

Then they went on a buying spree Genevieve bought a poodle, four fur coats and a Rolls. Elvira bought a small safe to carry her money, and Waldo bought several fancy watches.

The trouble started when Ruth appeared on the scene. In a way Ruth was a nymphomaniac and she had never met anyone like Waldo. Though he was in disguise, she recognized that thick neck immediately.

“What time is it?” she asked, breaking the ice. He had all his watches on his wrists and arms. He read off the time on each one. Many of them were not ticking.

Ruth was confused but it didn’t make any difference. She admired the Rolls and they all got in to try another cemetery, as they hadn’t forgotten their goal.

Elvira drove and Genevieve sat with her. In the back seat Ruth said coyly, “Do you remember me? The mahogany slab? Our love affair?”

Waldo grunted. He remembered, but it wasn’t a fond memory. Women were a nuisance. He dug hate most of all—that’s what gave him a thrill.

She put her arm through his, then let her hand fall to his fly. He looked her straight in the eye, slapped her hard in the face, ripped off her clothes and laid her on the back seat.

When Genevieve heard the sexual moans of Ruth, she looked into the back seat. “My God,” she said rapidly, “look at that.” Elvira turned around too. “Say, that’s the biggest wang I ever saw. She’s lucky she isn’t splitting in half.”

Ruth let out a final scream, Waldo slapped her again and got up and zipped up his fly. “Just servicing the young lady,” he apologized.

Ruth tried to get the ripped clothes back on her. But one breast peeked out. Waldo tucked it in, Ruth thanked him.

The new Rolls took the cobblestone roads with grace.

“Where are we going?” asked Ruth. “Why don’t we check into a hotel. Waldo and I need some sleep.” She winked.

“I have an idea,” Elvira said. “We have all this money, why don’t we have a party? We’ll go to McJohn’s Hospital and invite the nurses and doctors. We can throw the party in a hall.”

Genevieve thought it was a fine idea. Waldo wanted to get on with the search for the vampire but Ruth said they’d leave right after the party.

It was one of the great parties of all time. There were 200 people all dressed exquisitely because the girls treated everyone to new clothes. Waldo wore a dinner jacket and a girdle around the strip of thick hair he had about his middle. It sometimes bulged his clothes.

Waldo proved the hit of the evening when he picked up a grand piano with one hand and played it with the other. He was also involved in the most dramatic event of the evening.

No one knew, but a vampire woman suspecting there was a werewolf at the party, crashed in the disguise of a nurse. In her purse was a poison needle which she planned to plunge into the chest of Waldo, as she sucked his werewolf blood from his neck.

It was Ruth who saved him.

Blossom Time, the vampire woman, suggested Waldo dance with her. He took her in his arms and whispered, “Let’s get out of this place. We two can make beautiful music together.” He hummed a tune.

Blossom Time moved in closer, laid her head on his chest and pinched his arms to find a soft place to stick her poison needle. His arm was like a rock.

Her fingers clutched the needle and she said, “I love you.” Those are the words she wanted him to die with.

Though a werewolf, Waldo had the ego fault of all men. A conquest was terribly important. He tweaked her nipple through her lovely nurse’s uniform.

That’s what Ruth saw. She came running like a tiger and pulled Waldo out of Blossom Time’s arms.

“Bitch!” Waldo screeched and batted her across the face so hard she knocked over four people on the way to the floor.

Then he saw Blossom Time rushing at him with the needle extended. He let go a kick with his heavy boot and it caught her in the stomach. She jacknifed into the air, throwing up as she soared. When she hit the floor, the needle she was carrying stuck her in the cheek, penetrating her chin. In a moment it was over but not before she sighed, “The one thing I can’t stand is werewolves.”

Waldo knew she was a vampire when, as she lay dying, a dark red “V” slowly appeared on her forehead.

It was a close call for Waldo and he said he would go upstairs to lie down. As soon as he did, Ruth followed, knocked at the door and walked in. Waldo had made the mistake of taking off all his clothes He lay there with the thick mat of fur around his middle—sign he was a werewolf.

Ruth screamed, but Waldo only turned over. He wasn’t the nervous type.

Ruth screamed and screamed, frozen to the spot. Waldo almost went to sleep but Elvira and Genevieve left the party to find out if Waldo was all right.

“Why are you screaming?” Genevieve asked Ruth.

Ruth just continued to scream.

Waldo woke up. “I’m sick of this hypocrisy,” he said. “So I’m a werewolf. Why all the fuss?”

Then Ruth quieted down. Genevieve asked, “Is he really a werewolf?”

“He is,” Ruth said. She went to the bed and patted the rug of fur. “See.”

The three girls hovered about Waldo and he became angry.

With one swoop of both arms he ripped the clothes off Genevieve and Elvira, tossed them on the bed and went through Elvira’s thighs into Genevieve’s shaft before either of them knew what was happening.

Ruth was furious and belted Waldo several times on his ass with her purse, while he proceeded to score with both other girls at relatively the same time.

Genevieve’s moans were a confirmation of pain and pleasure. “I am being split in two,” she howled, “but I love it.”

Elvira, caught in the middle, flailed her arms and quivered. She wasn’t satisfied at all with the arrangement.

Genevieve said, “Wow, werewolves sure can fuck.” To which Ruth hit her with her purse.

But Waldo got tired of it all (werewolves don’t have orgasms—that’s because werewolves are made, not born). He hit both of the girls hard on the ass and when Ruth hit him again with her purse, he picked her up and threw her up over the gaudy chandelier, where she stuck.

“We have to be on our way,” Genevieve said, “so why don’t we say good-bye to everyone at the party?”

Waldo wasn’t in the best of spirits because his nap had been interrupted. “Go away,” he said, “I’ll be down later.”

So the girls patched their clothes on as best they could and left.

Waldo forgot about Ruth up on the chandelier.

She held on to the chandelier with one hand after slipping down a piece and dropped on Waldo, temporarily knocking the wind out of him.

“Honey,” she said, “I hope I killed you but I can’t be so lucky. How do you dare make love to other women in front of me?” By that time Waldo was fully recovered. He grabbed her by one breast and spun her around. “I must teach you a lesson,” he growled. He ripped off all her clothes with one swoop, tearing them right down the middle.

He tossed her face down on the bed and rammed his finger up her ass. She screamed. He hooked his finger in her and lifted her off the bed as she kicked and screamed. He took a bite out of each breast as he held her above him, then he tossed her back on the chandelier.

She hung on there sobbing curses at Waldo. He turned over and went to sleep.

After a bit Ruth dropped down to the floor. There she sat nude, cross-legged and crying. Waldo slept on.

Ruth got up stealthily and lit a match. She applied it to the fur around Waldo’s middle. It caught fire and Ruth sat fascinated, watching it burn. The unusual part of it was that the smoke had a perfumed aroma.

Suddenly Waldo felt the heat. “Jesus!” he shouted. “Call the Fire Department.” He hopped about the room. Ruth felt sorry for him and scooped some water out of the toilet bowl with an old shoe and splashed him with it, putting out the fire.

Waldo slapped her hard in the face knocking her across the room. Half of his fur had been badly singed. He wasn’t at all happy with it. Ruth sat in a corner of the room, crying. Waldo walked over to her and kicked her, making her cry all the more.

He slowly dressed and then slung the nude Ruth over his shoulder and went back down to the party

He was a strange sight entering the party with a naked girl slung over his shoulder. Several doctors came over to examine Ruth, but not exactly from a scientific point of view. Ruth was built! Big, big, big.

And one lesbian nurse kissed Ruth on the behind. But Ruth’s spirit had been broken. She just lay there limp and beaten.

Soon Waldo dropped her on the floor where she lay sprawled out, eyes open and staring at the ceiling.

Genevieve and Elvira picked her up, got her to take some brandy and found a nurse’s uniform for her. But she wasn’t through with Waldo. When he danced by with another girl in his arms, she stuck a fork in his behind and ran. He didn’t attempt to chase her.

Genevieve had enough of the party. “We’ll all find an expensive suite and sleep, and then tomorrow we’ll be off for the Ack Ack Cemetery to find the dead vampire queen.”

All agreed it was the thing to do.

They rented a large suite in the Rambo Hotel. There were four bedrooms and each went his and her own way. But there were no locks on the bedroom doors.

Ruth was still angry about Waldo’s treatment of her and decided to do something about it. She told the Police Captain Samovar that she knew where a werewolf was.

Being a werewolf is strictly against the law in most countries of the world because they can be cruel and inhuman.

Samovar and four men went to the Rambo Hotel to arrest Waldo. But werewolves aren’t easy to capture. Remember, only a silver bullet can fell a werewolf, and police do not carry silver bullets in their guns.

When the five burst into Waldo’s room he was busy combing what was left of his werewolf fur ring around his middle.

The five police told him to surrender and he threw his bed at them. A policeman fired at him and the bullet flattened out against his hip. Waldo didn’t like that and threw the offending policeman through a window.

From then on it was a rout. Waldo was angry and policemen were scrambled all over the hall when he was through with them.

Ruth made believe she was innocent and wondered how the policemen knew he was there. But Waldo was suspicious. He cuffed Ruth around just for his suspicions.

They all moved to the Hotel Patty in case more police should come back. Waldo wanted to get some sleep.

But this time, four beds were moved into one large room They all retired but Ruth couldn’t leave well enough alone. She had to tuck Waldo in. In so doing she awakened him.

But this time, Waldo felt sorry for Ruth because she looked so frightened. He put her in bed with him and liked it so much he dragged the other two into the bed with him.

“No more sex,” Elvira said sternly. “I want to get some sleep. Don’t forget we must find the dead Wanda, queen of the vampires.”

“Yes,” echoed Genevieve.

Waldo hated it when other people disagreed with any plans he might have. He growled, “If I want sex I take sex. So shut up.”

Ruth patted him on the chest and tried to quiet him.

Handling the girls like toys, he planted them on their backs, one on top of the other, and with Elvira on top, got on top of her. Ruth was on the bottom and he made love to her through Genevieve and Elvira, with all those girls screaming because it was so uncomfortable.

After awhile, Waldo shifted the girls so that Elvira was on the bottom. But he tired of his fun and pushed them out of the bed and onto the floor.

The three girls were very sore and spent most of the night in the bathroom ministering to their wounds.

In the morning, Waldo did his exercises in the nude while the girls looked on in admiration. He was very strong and very big.

Soon they piled into the Rolls and were on their way to find Wanda.

“Why don’t you like vampires?” Genevieve asked of Waldo.

“They are my natural enemies plus...” he showed them two scars on his neck. “Wanda’s great granddaughter did this to me while I slept. She drained me dry—three flagons of blood. I was so weak for a fortnight, I couldn’t pull on my boots.”

“Didn’t you feel it when she was taking your blood?” asked Elvira “Couldn’t you stop her?”

Waldo grimaced, “That’s how you tell a vampire from a vampire bat. A vampire first sinks her poison fangs into your neck or some other soft part of your anatomy, and it paralyzes you. Then you lay there while she sucks the very life out.”

Elvira shuddered, “How terrible!”

“And yet,” said Waldo nostalgically, “I once was in love with a vampire. Though I didn’t know it until too late. She seemed like an ordinary feminine creature, beautiful and yet with all the weaknesses of a woman. I met her on a cruise down the Danube. My mission on the ship was to frighten a child, always a pleasant mission. Matilda was the child’s governess.

“I should have suspected. Matilda was lovely, but she had bright burning eyes that you could feel creep down your face and into your belly. One night I asked her to dance and I mistook her interest in my neck for affection. All through the dance she leaned on my shoulder and breathed heavily on my neck. That night late, I entered one of Prince File’s dreams, that was the little one’s name, and frightened him near to death. Then I took Matilda out for a stroll about the ship.

“We would stop every few steps to kiss, and as a consequence we landed back in Matilda’s stateroom. The mistake I made was to sip the tea she brewed for me. Soon I felt sleep, because it was drugged, and you know the rest. When I awoke, the ship was in port and I was alone on it, so weak that I had to crawl to the gangplank where the old mother of a purser helped me off. I never lost the scars.” He showed them again.

“If I were bitten by a vampire,” Ruth said, “I’d die. I mean it. I’d rather be dead.”

Waldo disagreed. “No. Everyone should be bitten once by a vampire It is a unique experience. And it makes one a better, stronger person—after awhile, that is.”

They drove through the countryside.

Genevieve said suddenly, “There’s something you said that surprises me. You mean you can enter into someone else’s dreams when you want to?”

“Yes,” Waldo answered, “that’s one of the duties of a werewolf. I must frighten people.”

Genevieve took a nap hoping Waldo would enter her dream just so she could spot the miracle.

Elvira said, “How do we know you are really a werewolf? That phony fur around your mid-section—huh! Or your strength. That doesn’t mean anything. Can’t you prove it by doing something werewolf-y? Can’t you?”

Waldo was upset because someone doubted he was a werewolf. “I’ll show you,” he said as the Rolls Royce skimmed over the bumpy roads.

He rubbed his hand over the sleeping Genevieve’s forehead and voiced a low growl. She moaned and her lips quivered. “Now wake her,” he ordered.

Ruth shook her and said loudly, “Wake up!”

Genevieve screamed and sat up straight. “Uh oh,” she said, “I dreamed...” Then she stopped and pointed at Waldo. “You did it. You said you could. A werewolf in my dreams was chasing me down cellar stairs into a pit of snakes. It was awful. I’m so happy you woke me up.”

“See,” Waldo said triumphantly.

Elvira scoffed. “I mean something exciting—real. That we see.” She challenged Waldo.

“All right,” he said, but you must remember all I can do is evil. All the magic, all the wonder are for evil’s sake. You will see.” With a swoop of his hand and arm he ripped down Elvira’s blouse to the waist. She was bared with perfect breasts jutting just far enough forward.

“Now,” he said, “watch.” He muttered some strange sounds in a guttural voice and rubbed one hand lightly over Elvira’s breasts, and with the other hand he rubbed the fur around his stomach.

To everyone’s horror, Elvira’s breasts began getting smaller and smaller. They were shrinking! No one said anything as they stared fascinated. Her breasts shrank until only her brown nipples flattened out in small bumps, no bigger than bee bites. Then Waldo sat back and grinned.

Elvira was hysterical. “Give me my lovely breasts back. Don’t do this to me. I beg you. I believe you, you are a werewolf.”

The other girls joined in. “Give her breasts back. Please. Help her.”

“I cannot until midnight and then she must go through a secret and dangerous night with me. But, Elvira, if you wish, we will do it. Though now you know I am an evil werewolf.”

Elvira was crying with hands cupped over what was once her breasts. Over and over she moaned, “My lovely, lovely breasts.”

Ruth tried to cheer her up and said, “At midnight you’ll have your breasts back. We’ll make him promise.”

“I’ll try,” Waldo promised, “but the ways of the werewolf are strange and he who fools with a werewolf is in constant danger.”

“You must try,” said Elvira, beating on her chest, “I will die with no breasts—never to have a man. Who would want me this way—I am a man.” She took her cupped hands away. She did look like a man.

“It’s eleven o’clock already,” Genevieve said, “we should stop at a hotel and continue our journey in the morning.”

“There’s no hotel on this road,” Ruth said. “We can camp in the woods. It’s a beautiful night and at 12 o’clock we have work to do anyway. Isn’t that right, Waldo?”

He nodded and grinned.

Soon they stopped in a clearing.

Waldo looked at Elvira’s watch. “We must prepare.” He started a fire and counted five hairs from his mid-section and let them fall on the fire. Though only five small hairs, the five roared brilliantly and everyone fell back from the heat except Waldo.

Then he grabbed Elvira and picking her up by the ankle waved her five times over the fire, chest exposed to the flames and he and her screaming in chorus, he with mysticism and her from fright and pain.

She struggled to get free and soon he was through with her. He flung her onto a grassy mound and she collapsed there. He fell to his knees as if weak and then crawled to where Elvira was laying in a heap.

The girls saw him suck at her chest for a minute or two and then he collapsed beside her.

Genevieve and Ruth ran to their aid. Waldo lay across Elvira, and they pushed him aside. Elvira lay on her back. There was a bum across her stomach but the miracle had happened.

Two beautiful breasts, nipples hard and extended, decorated her chest. They rose and fell slowly as she failed to waken from a deep sleep.

“Let her rest,” Ruth said. “She is all right.”

“And Waldo?” asked Genevieve.

Ruth reminded her, “You can’t kill a werewolf except with a silver bullet. He’s fine.”

The girls lay down and went to sleep.

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