Crimefighter: The Quest For Pizza

This is a character I created for a writing challenge. I had so much fun with him, I wanted to write more. So here it is. Story begins after the image.

Genre: Horror/Humor

Source: http://www.scottsmind.com

Crimefighter: The Quest For Pizza

Day 582 of being stuck in werewolf form.

I’ve just about given up hope of returning to Human form like a normal werewolf should. I don’t why. All I know is that it makes normal things hard. For instance, when you move to a newer, bigger town, you need to find important things, like a good pizza parlor.

I can’t just walk in and ask for a slice. I’m about 8’2″ tall and weigh 497 lbs (that’s before a couple large deep-dish pepperoni pizzas). I don’t have that cheesy half-wolf, half -man look either. I gotta wolfey-looking wolf’s head, except fitting an animal four times bigger.

Maybe I shouldn’t blame folks if I scare the bejeezus out of them. It’s just annoying when all you want is a large root beer and the clerk throws himself out the drive-through window. This is a curse, I tell you.

While looking for pizza parlors,  I met Salvatore Bitoni.  One day I hid in some bushes waiting for a mis-made but still edible pizza to be tossed in the trash. Before long, old man Sal walks out, three larges in his hands. I waited for him to pitch them and leave. That’s when a crowd of homeless kids run up to him. He gives two of the boxes to the kids, and I’m liking Sal already. Probably the best food they’ve had in weeks.

Sal held on to the third and walked down an alley with it. Disappointed but curious, I followed, moving like a deep gray shadow in the darkness of the alley . My footpads make me really quiet. Nobody hears me.

I smell them before I see them. Too much cologne, cigarettes, and gun oil give them away. Three guys, all attitude and leather jackets, step out of the alleyway door. They blocked Sal’s way, acting all tough. One snatched the pizza box away from Sal and opened it.

“What? Just pizza, Sal?” He said. “You think our services are that cheap?”

“It’s under the pizza,” muttered Sal.

The guy dug around, then smiled. He pulled out a fat wad of cash and held it up “That’s what I’m talkin’ about, Sal.” He stuffed the money in his pocket then bit into a slice. “Mmm, that’s pretty good, Sal. But uh, what about the other guys?” He gestured behind him. “Ain’t it rude not to bring them any too?”

“I’m ah sorry, Tommy,” said Sal, holding up his hands. “I thought you ah could share.”

“Share? Share?” Tommy began shoving the old man. “You don’t share enough, Sal!” He shoved hard and knocked Sal down. Sal winced and held his hands to his head. Blood dripped from his fingers.

That was enough for me. I moved. As a werewolf,  I can make an Olympic sprinter look like a chump. I’m faster when I’m mad, and this time I was pissed. When I crashed into Tommy I knocked him right off his feet, but that’s okay. I stopped his fall and held him up…by his neck.

Tommy’s eyes bugged out and the color drained from his face. I wasn’t choking him. Maybe there’s something about four-inch fangs straddling his nose that made him a bit uncomfortable. “Sharing Tommy?” If a big block Hemi engine could talk, it would sound like my voice when I’m mad. “Will you share some of your pizza with me?”

I snatched his head down three feet, really fast, then yanked it back up. Then for fun, I did it a couple more times, up-down, up-down. “I see you nodding yes, Tommy. That’s good. One more thing. Mr. Bitoni employs my protection services now. Is that alright with you?”

Up-down, up-down.

“Thanks for your…” I stopped. Tommy had apparently fainted. High blood pressure will do that to you.

I dropped Tommy like a sack of trash, and snarled at the other guys. “What are you lookin’ at?” One guy dropped his gun and ran. The other just turned white and puked his guts out. Acid reflux causes that, I understand. I took a menacing step toward him, and the last guy bailed too, puke streaming behind him.

With the bad guys gone, I turned to Sal, still laying on the ground and watching the whole scene. “You okay, Sal?” I asked. His eyes were bugged out, staring at me.

“You a, eat me now?” He quavered.

In my softer, “indoor voice” I said, “C’mon, Sal. Do I look like I eat people?”

“Yes.”

“Nevermind. I’m not gonna eat ya’ Sal. I’m here to help. Those guys aren’t going to bother you no more. C’mon, let me help you up.”

“I bumped my head, right?” Said Sal. “And now I’m a having a crazy dream.”

“It’s real, Sal. This ain’t no dream, but it’s a dream come true. By the way, you mind if I finish off that pizza?”

I made sure Sal got back to his restaurant and got medical attention. Since then, a couple different gangs tried to take Tommy’s place in providing “protection.” I chased them all off. Nobody bothers Sal any more. He setup a table in the alley just for me, and I get free pizza any time I want it.  We’ve become good friends. He’s teaching me about Italian wines. Gotta love the guy.

Yeah, it sucks being stuck  in werewolf shape all the time, but then without it I couldn’t help good guys like Sal. I may be cursed, but then again, there’s times when it’s a blessing.