“Oh Hells no! Y’all ain’t queerin’ this deal Mr.Wolfman! Mama needs a new pair of Prada shoes-O.K.” The living mountain of ferocity and glamour swings the lupine form through a plate glass window with the greatest of ease.”I am not to be trifled with over shoe money Miss!”
A smallish groan can just be made out as words,”..i’m a dude…”is the werewolf’s only reply.
The crumpled wolfman starts a fit of repetitive sneezing,”...the hell?”
The miasma of Lucky brand cologne preceeds Stinky Straight Steve by almost half a block.
“And if you think bad dope will take me out you’re as dumb as i look.Don’t you know French Quarter Trash and Bebe’s kids are the same! We don’t die, we multiply!”Steve exclaims.
“Oh shit,where’s Rob?” Simone looks about,clearly distressed.
“I never laid a hand on him!” the werewolf squeaks.
“He was right behind us,”Steve replied.
“Where my keys?”Simone begins to look very mad. “Goddamnit Rob! Git your thievin’ ass back here!” She ignores the wolfman and begins to run back the way she came.