|Game 3||Game 3 Outline|
Ok, let's look at the pros and cons. Pro: You are a werewolf, fulfilling your lifelong dream. Con: You weigh a ton and resemble the Hindenburg. Pro: You know how to fix the problem by going to Ireland. Con: You cannot reach Ireland because you're stuck in the doorway. Evens out pretty much. If only it wasn't raining.
Water drips off the end of your muzzle and down your bloated cheeks. You shake in a dog like fashion, spraying water in all directins, like it makes a difference. You've been 'floating' here for an hour, and the rain has only gotten worse. Luckily, you've had an idea, and have been arching your back so that the rain flows down to the back of your body. Besides the uncomfortable wet feeling you have in your shorts, your massive sides are also sopping wet. The wet dog spell is almost overpowering. Finally, you suck in your gut and squirm. Your body slowly begins to slide downward, and your belly spreads across the bottom of the doorframe. When your toes finally hit bottom, you start pushing, clawing at gaps in the stone ahead of you. Your skin feels like it's stretching as flesh is squeezed through the doorway. Finally, with a loud ploop, your massive figure pops free. You shake yourself off, pick up your bags, and start waddling at full speed toward the town. The sooner you get to Ireland, the better.
As you reach the town, and walk into the inn, it stops raining. Of course, you think. Suddenly you realize that you are still in the doorway, your sides pressing into the frame as tightly as before. "For goodness' sake", you say aloud, and squeeze your shoulders and arms through, pushing against the wall to squeeze your bulk through the door. You notice that the innkeeper is staring at you, mouth wide in shock. "What," you say, "Never seen a foreigner before?" The innkeeper shakes his head as if in a stupor. "Okay, where can I get a wagon or something to get to the Romanian airport?" The innkeeper raises a shaking hand and points out the window to a nearby building. "Thanks", you say and quickly squeeze your bulk back through the door, which you find is getting a lot easier with practice.
"No way," says the stable master, when you try to rent a horse to ride to the nearest city. "You'd flatten the horse if you tried that!" "But I need to get to the airport in...", you glance at your watch, "ten hours." "Then you're in trouble, unless you can rent ten horses to drag you there." You grumble, cursing the lack of modern transportation in these old towns. Suddenly a bright idea crosses your mind. "Well then, I guess I'll just have to stay here", you say idly. "Of course, that means I'll have to eat, and since my traveling expenses are paid for, I can get plenty of food... about, errrr, 15 pounds should do it." "F-fifteen pounds of food a day!?" stammers the horse keeper, "That how much you eat?" You look up as if having just noticed his stares, "Oh no, that's just a light snack I was thinking about having. I mean, look at me, I'm a growing boy, I'll need at least four times that much for dinner." The man is even more shocked. "B-but this is a small town, we can't... the food storage won't last on, let's see...", he starts counting up the figures, "180 pounds of food a day." "Plus snacks", you add. "And they'll have to, it's paid for." "But the town will run out of food within a week, what then?" "I'll just have to eat something else then, I guess. I am a wolf... you know," you look at him hungrily, "a carnivore..."
Fifteen minutes later you are riding out of the town in a wagon, the stable master driving the 12 horses on as fast as he can. You relax, grinning happily to yourself. At this rate, you should reach the airport in maybe 5 hours.
Written by Jack (edited by wanderer)
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