Bulldog Armstrong checked himself in a full length mirror. His dark suit was unwrinkled, his shirt a gleaming white, and the taut skin of his face was as smooth as if no hair had ever grown there. Sunlight formed what seemed to be a halo around his head, even though he was indoors. In reality, Bulldog knew he was still asleep, drifting along from a deep REM state to a point in time just before he opened his eyes. This drifting was his favorite part of the day, when he saw himself exactly as he wished to be, and possibly still was. Those dreams, nightmares really, where he was unemployed and unkempt, sleeping in, sometimes on, his car, those were nothing more than elements in a fictional play running in his head. And the werewolf? What a silly creature to intrude on his dreams. When he awoke, the play would be over.
A grin formed as Bulldog felt the warmth of the sun on his face. In less than a minute he would open his eyes, be awake and alert and ready to face a new day. He drew a deep breath and slowly his eyelids parted. Lifting his head, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. The rearview mirror of his car, to be exact. Bulldog had slept in the driver’s seat of his car. His face was haggard and unshaven, and dark circles enveloped his eyes. It dawned on him that the nightmare was real. He was unemployed and living in his car. His heart sank.
“Shit,” he muttered.
A female voice came from the rear of the car. “Well, you’re a grumpy one in the mornings, aren’t you. I have to admit you do look a little rough.”
Bulldog’s head spun around so quickly he hurt his neck, which was stiff from sleeping sitting up in the car. “Ow! Shit!” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.
“Careful,” Colette, now in human form and quite naked, said. “You don’t want to hurt yourself moving your head so quickly like that. And maybe lay off the potty mouth a little bit. I am a lady, you know.”
Hands resting on her knees, Colette sat in the middle of the back seat looking calmly at Bulldog. She looked remarkably well rested for a half human, half animal that had slept off some sort of bender in a stranger’s car.
“You know you’re in the park, right?” she asked him.
Bulldog shut his eyes and ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, I know the car is parked.”
“No, I said you’re in the park. You’re in the middle of the sidwalk.”
Sure enough, Bulldog had somehow brought his car to rest on a pathway running through a grove of elm and cedar trees.
“Shit,” he said again as he looked out the windows of the car at the trees surrounding him. “I must have fallen asleep while I was driving and ended up here.”
“Good thing you didn’t kill somebody, driving like that,” Colette told him. “Of course, I haven’t checked under the car yet. Might be a body under there.”
This time Bulldog turned slowly to look at his passenger. “You know, you’re not helping matters any. I feel bad enough as it is. Usually I’m a pretty good driver. Don’t know what’s wrong with me anymore.” He paused to look closely at Colette. “Just who the hell are you again? How did you get in my car? Where did you come from?”
A Mona Lisa Smile appeared on Colette’s face. “You’ve got a lot of questions. One of these days I’ll answer them, but if you haven’t noticed yet, I’m bare assed naked.”
Bulldog looked down and saw that she was telling the truth.
“Hey, buddy my eyes are up here. This is the problem with being a werewolf, you’re always tearing up your clothes, then you end up naked in some dude’s car.”
“I’m not a dude, I’m an agent of the United States government. At least I was.”
“Uh-huh, whatever. I need to cover myself with something. Give me your jacket.”
“I am not giving you my jacket. This is the only suit I own and I need the jacket.”
“Give me the damn jacket.” Her tone of voice was seriously no nonsense. It made his shiver slightly, then he did as he was told and handed over the jacket.
“Thank you,” she said as she slipped it on. “Fits perfectly. Much better than having nothing on at all. Good thing too, ‘cause it looks like we’ve got company.”
Bulldog glanced in the rear view mirror and saw a police officer walking toward the car. It was Phil Wembley, the lone constable of Arbor Woods. “Shit,” he said for the fourth time in less than five minutes.
Phil rapped his large knuckles on the driver side window. Bulldog lowered the window and asked in the most innocent voice he could muster, “Can I help you officer?”
At six feet, four inches Phil had to bend at his knees and waist to get a closer look at the person who had the nerve to ask such a question. “Sir, you do know that cars are not allowed on the pedestrian walkways in the park, right?”
With no badge or paperwork to identify him as a federal agent, Bulldog was, for the first time since he was a teenager, nervous talking to a cop. He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to get out of this predicament. “Ah, yes, officer, I’m sorry about this. I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere and...”
Phil stood up tall again. “Would you take the keys out of the ignition and step out of the vehicle please?”
Bulldog blinked up at him. “What?” he asked timidly.
“Step out of the car. Now.”
“Officer, I think I can explain everything.” Bulldog knew he had no logical explanation for landing his car in the middle of the park and having a now mostly naked woman in the back seat, but he had to try and buy some time to think of something. Anything.
“Get out of the car.” Another no-nonsense tone of voice, this time coming from a hulking officer of the law. Again, Bulldog did as he was commanded.
“Officer, I know this looks bad, but I’m a federal agent, well I used to be but there was an incident with me losing my gun, that will all get straightened out someday, soon I hope, but anyway, I’m searching for a girl, see, the one who stole my gun, and I...” Bulldog realized he was babbling. He decided to shut his mouth.
Arms crossed over his chest, Phil had been listening intently, quickly coming to the conclusion that this guy was off his rocker but probably harmless as long as he wasn’t behind the wheel of a car. When Bulldog’s babbling ceased, Phil asked him, “Do you have anything that would identify you as a federal agent, past or present?”
“Well, no, they didn’t leave me with anything when I got fired.” Bulldog was beginning to sound forlorn. His voice sounded suddenly like that of a child whose parents had forgotten him at the grocery store.
“Do you have a driver’s license?”
Bulldog brightened somewhat. “Yes, of course, it’s in my wallet.” He thrust his hands into his pants pockets but came up empty. “Must be in my jacket. Can I have my jacket back for a minute please?” He looked into the car but it was empty.
Dumbfounded, Bulldog began to doubt if there had ever actually been someone in the car with him. “Officer, there was a woman with me, Babette or Nanette or something, and she, uh, well, she needed my jacket because she was cold.” He prudently decided to leave out the parts about her being a werewolf who transformed into a naked woman. “Anyway, my wallet is in that jacket, and she doesn’t seem to be here anymore. I really don’t know where she went.” He looked around him. “Honest, she was just here.”
All this only confirmed Phil’s thesis that Bulldog was mentally unstable. Slowly, as he didn’t want to spook Bulldog, Phil unfolded his arms. He spoke in a gentle tone, “Sir, I’d like you to come with me.”
“Officer, I can explain everything.” Bulldog knew he could explain nothing. He turned and made a run for it. Despite the fact that he was in a tree filled park in a town called Arbor Woods, it didn’t dawn on him that if he wasn’t paying attention he would run smack dab into a tree at full speed. Which he did. The former federal agent met a decades old cedar, bringing Bulldog to a sudden halt. He stood stock still for a moment, then fell backwards. Out cold, again.
Phil Wembley walked to where Bulldog lay and glanced down at him.
“Watch out for that tree, sir.”
A grin formed as Bulldog felt the warmth of the sun on his face. In less than a minute he would open his eyes, be awake and alert and ready to face a new day. He drew a deep breath and slowly his eyelids parted. Lifting his head, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. The rearview mirror of his car, to be exact. Bulldog had slept in the driver’s seat of his car. His face was haggard and unshaven, and dark circles enveloped his eyes. It dawned on him that the nightmare was real. He was unemployed and living in his car. His heart sank.
“Shit,” he muttered.
A female voice came from the rear of the car. “Well, you’re a grumpy one in the mornings, aren’t you. I have to admit you do look a little rough.”
Bulldog’s head spun around so quickly he hurt his neck, which was stiff from sleeping sitting up in the car. “Ow! Shit!” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.
“Careful,” Colette, now in human form and quite naked, said. “You don’t want to hurt yourself moving your head so quickly like that. And maybe lay off the potty mouth a little bit. I am a lady, you know.”
Hands resting on her knees, Colette sat in the middle of the back seat looking calmly at Bulldog. She looked remarkably well rested for a half human, half animal that had slept off some sort of bender in a stranger’s car.
“You know you’re in the park, right?” she asked him.
Bulldog shut his eyes and ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, I know the car is parked.”
“No, I said you’re in the park. You’re in the middle of the sidwalk.”
Sure enough, Bulldog had somehow brought his car to rest on a pathway running through a grove of elm and cedar trees.
“Shit,” he said again as he looked out the windows of the car at the trees surrounding him. “I must have fallen asleep while I was driving and ended up here.”
“Good thing you didn’t kill somebody, driving like that,” Colette told him. “Of course, I haven’t checked under the car yet. Might be a body under there.”
This time Bulldog turned slowly to look at his passenger. “You know, you’re not helping matters any. I feel bad enough as it is. Usually I’m a pretty good driver. Don’t know what’s wrong with me anymore.” He paused to look closely at Colette. “Just who the hell are you again? How did you get in my car? Where did you come from?”
A Mona Lisa Smile appeared on Colette’s face. “You’ve got a lot of questions. One of these days I’ll answer them, but if you haven’t noticed yet, I’m bare assed naked.”
Bulldog looked down and saw that she was telling the truth.
“Hey, buddy my eyes are up here. This is the problem with being a werewolf, you’re always tearing up your clothes, then you end up naked in some dude’s car.”
“I’m not a dude, I’m an agent of the United States government. At least I was.”
“Uh-huh, whatever. I need to cover myself with something. Give me your jacket.”
“I am not giving you my jacket. This is the only suit I own and I need the jacket.”
“Give me the damn jacket.” Her tone of voice was seriously no nonsense. It made his shiver slightly, then he did as he was told and handed over the jacket.
“Thank you,” she said as she slipped it on. “Fits perfectly. Much better than having nothing on at all. Good thing too, ‘cause it looks like we’ve got company.”
Bulldog glanced in the rear view mirror and saw a police officer walking toward the car. It was Phil Wembley, the lone constable of Arbor Woods. “Shit,” he said for the fourth time in less than five minutes.
Phil rapped his large knuckles on the driver side window. Bulldog lowered the window and asked in the most innocent voice he could muster, “Can I help you officer?”
At six feet, four inches Phil had to bend at his knees and waist to get a closer look at the person who had the nerve to ask such a question. “Sir, you do know that cars are not allowed on the pedestrian walkways in the park, right?”
With no badge or paperwork to identify him as a federal agent, Bulldog was, for the first time since he was a teenager, nervous talking to a cop. He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to get out of this predicament. “Ah, yes, officer, I’m sorry about this. I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere and...”
Phil stood up tall again. “Would you take the keys out of the ignition and step out of the vehicle please?”
Bulldog blinked up at him. “What?” he asked timidly.
“Step out of the car. Now.”
“Officer, I think I can explain everything.” Bulldog knew he had no logical explanation for landing his car in the middle of the park and having a now mostly naked woman in the back seat, but he had to try and buy some time to think of something. Anything.
“Get out of the car.” Another no-nonsense tone of voice, this time coming from a hulking officer of the law. Again, Bulldog did as he was commanded.
“Officer, I know this looks bad, but I’m a federal agent, well I used to be but there was an incident with me losing my gun, that will all get straightened out someday, soon I hope, but anyway, I’m searching for a girl, see, the one who stole my gun, and I...” Bulldog realized he was babbling. He decided to shut his mouth.
Arms crossed over his chest, Phil had been listening intently, quickly coming to the conclusion that this guy was off his rocker but probably harmless as long as he wasn’t behind the wheel of a car. When Bulldog’s babbling ceased, Phil asked him, “Do you have anything that would identify you as a federal agent, past or present?”
“Well, no, they didn’t leave me with anything when I got fired.” Bulldog was beginning to sound forlorn. His voice sounded suddenly like that of a child whose parents had forgotten him at the grocery store.
“Do you have a driver’s license?”
Bulldog brightened somewhat. “Yes, of course, it’s in my wallet.” He thrust his hands into his pants pockets but came up empty. “Must be in my jacket. Can I have my jacket back for a minute please?” He looked into the car but it was empty.
Dumbfounded, Bulldog began to doubt if there had ever actually been someone in the car with him. “Officer, there was a woman with me, Babette or Nanette or something, and she, uh, well, she needed my jacket because she was cold.” He prudently decided to leave out the parts about her being a werewolf who transformed into a naked woman. “Anyway, my wallet is in that jacket, and she doesn’t seem to be here anymore. I really don’t know where she went.” He looked around him. “Honest, she was just here.”
All this only confirmed Phil’s thesis that Bulldog was mentally unstable. Slowly, as he didn’t want to spook Bulldog, Phil unfolded his arms. He spoke in a gentle tone, “Sir, I’d like you to come with me.”
“Officer, I can explain everything.” Bulldog knew he could explain nothing. He turned and made a run for it. Despite the fact that he was in a tree filled park in a town called Arbor Woods, it didn’t dawn on him that if he wasn’t paying attention he would run smack dab into a tree at full speed. Which he did. The former federal agent met a decades old cedar, bringing Bulldog to a sudden halt. He stood stock still for a moment, then fell backwards. Out cold, again.
Phil Wembley walked to where Bulldog lay and glanced down at him.
“Watch out for that tree, sir.”
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