Jen hurried to the house next door, banging frantically. The Sam-wolf seemed to be relishing the moment, stalking her slowly, without a hint of urgency in any of its motions.
Inside, Frank Thomas and his wife, Gillian, were having a quiet dinner, though not as quiet as usual nights, due to an inordinate amount of noise coming from the house next door. This had put Frank in a rather bad mood. "I'm going to fucking go over there tomorrow and let those motherfuckers hear about this shit!"Frank raged at his wife, "I work long fucking hours, and I don't need this shit after a full day at work!"
Frank Thomas was a moderately built man, with close-cropped black hair. He was thirty five, and had no children, though he and his wife had tried several times. There were few things in life that Frank was truly passionate about; football, beer, an honest day's work, and a quiet, picture perfect, neighborhood. He still had football, beer and work, but his neighborhood was getting on his nerves tonight.
Gillian was a bit younger, a woman of twenty nine. She'd been swept off her feet by Frank seven years before. He's promised her the best of everything, and swore to her that she would never have to work a day for the rest of her life. For the most part he'd provided it, though his tongue lashings of her had become a daily routine, and on occasion, he had gotten his fists involved in the business.
She was quite used to his vitriol-laced rants over dinner, whether it was about a coworker, or the Green Bay Packers, or in this case, the neighbors not living up to his standards. Gillian simply stared at her plate, nodding when he paused, or occasionally whispering a polite, "Yes, dear," in response.
Then the banging on the door happened. "OH, WHAT THE FUCK?!" shouted Frank, his face turning beet red. Gillian wondered if he might suffer a heart attack right there, and then wondered if it truly would be such a bad thing. The banging continued. "Jesus, CHRIST, Gillian! Are you gonna answer the fucking door or just stare at the fucking floor?" Frank yelled, now massaging his temples.
Gillian, now shaking like a leaf, got up, scurrying to the door, emitting a sharp yelp when she opened it to reveal her naked teenage neighbor girl.
"Mrs. Thomas, please, you've gotta help me!" Jen cried, running past her, into the house and slamming the door.
"Oh..now what the FUCK is THIS?" shouted Frank, leaving the kitchen, fists balled up at his side. His jaw hit the floor as he saw Jen in all her unclothed glory. "You have got to be fucking kidding," he said, to noone in particular.
Suddenly, something slammed against the front door with a massive "THUD!", sending a wave of vibration through the walls of the living room. Again something heavy hit the front door, and then a third time. "I am gonna put a fucking stop to this shit! Gillian, get that little thing upstairs and get her a fucking robe! I'm calling the fucking police."