You poke through the aisles and aisle of costumes that make up your uncle’s store, looking for something that really jumps out at you. You pick up a fox costume, examining it, admiring the immaculate detail, the real-feeling fur, the big paws. Suddenly, you feel a chill run down your spine. You glance up and Uncle Jack’s staring at you from across the room with a bizare look on his face, almost…turned on.
“Come over here nephew, I got something for you.” You hang the costume back up and walk over to him, he’s gripping a mask in his hand. “This ones one of my favorites,” he says as he hands it to you. He hands you a dusty, rubbery wolfman mask, covered in black fur, canine fangs poking out a pair of rubbery lips. “I always perfered my werewolves a little more man than wolf myself.” You stare at the ugly mask for a moment, not able to shake off a gut feeling that something doesn’t feel right, about the mask or your uncle. “Go ahead try it on,” says Uncle Jack, sweat rolling down his face, beckoning you to put the mask on. Against your better judgement you do as you’re told and slide the mask over your head, pulling it down over your face as your uncle watches with the biggest grin on his.