I met the Big Bad Wolf in a most unusual way. I had gone to the local animal shelter to get a dog, and he'd been in one the cages on the end. He didn't look like a werewolf, but he was a lot shaggier than I am. Guess it was genetics with all that shaggy matted black fur and hunched down on all fours he looked like an Irish Wolfhound.
He whined as though begging for me to rescue him, but he was a bigger dog than I was looking for, and I started to walk away.
"Wait!" he whispered.
I froze. A talking dog? No, I must be mistaken. I shook my head, and started to move again.
"No, please. Take me. I'm not a dog, but they won't believe me. These stupid civil servants, when they hear me they think they're cracking up, so they deny that I'm speaking. But I am speaking."
"A talking dog, huh?" I immediately thought of the cash value of such an animal. And could see how someone with a weak grasp on reality might convince themselves that the voice they were hearing was only in their own heads, but I knew better.
The clerk seemed relieved to see the animal go. He made a comment, which I pretended not to hear, and enjoyed the clerk's nervous reaction. She handed me some paperwork to complete and told me I could pick up my dog in two hours. She jabbed him with a syringe. He yelped, bared his fangs as if ready to bite, and keeled over in his cage.
The Bob Barker poster on the wall proclaimed "SPAY AND NEUTER YOUR PETS!" and the plain sign above it read, "All pets adopted from this facility must be neutered or spayed before leaving the premises."
I paid the fees, turned in the paperwork and collected my groggy dog/werewolf. Safely in my car, the creature related his story.
His name was Dirk Comstock and he'd been on the Storybook Land Boat ride at an amusement park. He had gotten clever and slipped off the boat and into the diorama storybook land. Suddenly, it was real. He explained that Storybook Land was a real place, an alternate reality that intersected our own world in a number of places. He'd lived there off and on for the passed few years. He had me stop at an alley and slipped in and retrieved a bundle wrapped in plastic. It contained some torn khaki trousers and other items including this diary.
He told of meeting the Big Bad Wolf in Storybook Land. A big muscular brown furred mutt man, and how the BBW had transferred the curse to him. The BBW became a brown haired man named Antoine, and told me that when I was done with playing werewolf to simply offer it to another man as he had offered it to me.
"You're a werewolf? I thought you were a talking dog?"
"So you want to be a talking dog?" he asked.
"Sure, why not?"
Instantly, I felt a surge of strength flow through my body. My shirt ripped as my torso hulked out. Dirk seemed surprised as I morphed into a classic anthropomorphic wolfman. Apparently, he and the BBW before him had excepted their own forms as normal. I dare say the newly reformed curly haired wimp of a guy sitting in torn khakis next to me in my car looked frightened as my head pressed against the roof of the car.
"Wow, you're a natural," gasped Dirk.
I licked my jowls admiring my reflection in the rear view mirror, and then my stomach started to grumble. Dirk reached for the door, but I was too fast. Blood splattered everywhere. My car was a mess. I high-tailed it down the alley and into Storybook Land hoping to forget my misdeed. I didn't know what had come over me. Being the Big Bad Wolf had its perks though. The world was my all you can eat buffet... If I ever decide to be human again, I'll be careful to try to pick a nerd like Dirk, or I might find myself on the new BBW's menu.
You laugh and smack your lips. So he thought you were a nerd, did he? Serves him right. You kick his heap of bones. The list of people he'd eaten is astounding, and there were footnotes too. "Dang, that girl in the red riding hood is hot. Have to avoid urges to go after her though. Avoiding pork too. Goldilocks was tasty though, porridge fed. All I had to do was wait outside the three bears house and sure enough she came running out looking behind her and ran straight into my jaws."
You amble through the bushes, and overhear voices. Silently, you move into position.
"You see Dick Whittington WAS the original puss-in-boots. If you put on my boots, you'll become a cat man too. Then you can help me make my fortune, the way I helped Dick after putting on his boots. It's a tradition, then you'll find a guy to wear the boots and help you too," the talking cat in boots, cape and hat explained.
Whether the young man would've agreed, you don't know. He ran off in terror as your jaws ripped Puss-in-Boots in two. You left the blood-splattered boots by the side of the path. You know someone will come along and put them on, and the story of Puss-in-Boots will continue.
You vaguely wonder how the Big Bad Wolf has survived all these years in spite of the huntsman and the third pig. Perhaps like the boots, there is another way to transfer the curse after the BBW is destroyed. You decide you better find out, if you don't want to be destroyed yourself.
Two major threats to your existence are Red Riding Hood's huntsman, and the Third Pig. Perhaps you could hire someone else to take them out. Hm, a cottage with a beautiful young woman and seven dwarves...if you made a deal with her step mom the queen, you could eat Snow White and dwarf meat, and she could bump off the pig and the huntsman...maybe?