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Clothes make the man.

When you stop changing, you are not exactly fat, but simply big. You appear to be wearing baby clothes, given that your nine-foot frame cannot be covered by what moments ago fit perfectly. In frustration, you slam your hairy arms against the wall, and your tiny shirt tears cleanly in two. Looking yourself over, you see that you have only a pair of shorts that once were pants to keep you decent, complemented by a makeshift ascot around your neck. Your shredded socks resemble anklets. In fact, you would look frightening if your garments did not make you look like Wile E. Coyote in cloth diapers.

Before you decide where to go and what to do, either a maid or a tour guide unwittingly approaches you. "Egad!" she screams, not knowing what to expect. Are you a good werewolf or a bad werewolf?


Written by Joey Liverwurst

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