Werewolf the Podcast: The Werewolf and the Fairy (Episode 197)

The Fairy has tracked down our esteemed Werewolf Wil and his soul Fen. There seems to be a sexual charge that night in the air. It may be a little one-sided. Our erstwhile antivillian Wil doesn't know what to do with her. I don't think anyone knows what to do with her. The Professor starts out on a long and lonely road to... Cambridge of all places, but the Fairy is messing with his mind. That is not a mind to mess with.

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Transcript

Fen and I have paused long enough to assess the current situation. We don't often stare at each other because we feel where we are. We don't need to see each other. We feel each other's whereabouts. So this is a bit bizarre as we stand naked human man and wild wolf soul staring into one anothers eyes. 

We are having that zombie moment. When something arises that makes you stop and think for too long, and you stay static and still for too long. Gob open fly catching with fear. We call it zombie time. 

Often, the time that we stay like this relates to how stupid, complex, or deadly the situation we are about to face has become. It does not happen often for us, but at times and places such as this one, they cause us to stand and consider. I admit it does not happen very often in our life. We consider consequences to be something we worry about after the fact. At this moment, I could not even consider the consequences. They were unconsiderable and inconsiderable also.

The current situation is that there is a glowing green fairy in my fucking car. Not just any glowing green fairy. Oh no, this is thee; notice the double ee in the glowing bright green Fairy. The bitch of kitch. The tiny terror. The winged sociopath. Fairy fucking Foxglove. 

'Fuck!' I say out loud to the world. This little Fairy is stalking me and is making me feel uncomfortable. Oh, you laugh; a big scary werewolf is scared of a little fairy, that the killer of demons and Gods is afraid of a little teeny tiny eensy weensy fairy. That the beast that was thrown out of hell because the Devil could not deal with him could have his courage fail at a teeny tiny weeny eeny bitsy itsy ickles e weickledy fairy wairy. That a ... well... fuck you, you fucking fuck faced fucker of fucks. I am fucking scared. That sentence alone has probably screwed our youtube algorithm thingy. But erm... Fuck it. There is going to be a lot more fucks given in this fucking episode.

It seems inconceivable to most that a little tiny, beautiful, green, sparkly female fairy is stalking you and that you could be frightened. I have to say you should be frightened. 

It should seem that it would not bother anyone; it's only a fairy fucking tale. But I will offer you an example of fairy behaviour. A look at the fairy's nature from the man who was thought to make up a lot of the foremost Fairy story.

Look at Tink in Peter Pan. Yeah, I mean it, Look at fucking Tink! Oh, and you can say that J. M. Barrie was making up the characters of Fairies and stuff, but if we realise he was one of those people who saw the things they should not, his description of fairies was very accurate. 

The Professor had met J.M. Barrie and knows Sir Barrie, whom I love. The Professor seems to have met every famous person throughout history. 

Sir Barrie had spent some time in Fairy Land himself, according to the Prof. 

Some evidence comes from how he was renowned from childhood for telling stories about his adventures with fairies. As a consequence of spending time in the Fae world, where time passed weirdly... erm... unphysicy... ish, he never grew above five foot three and always seemed a decade younger than he was supposed to be.

Back to the point. Tink... is a bit of a bitch if you think about it. Yeah, I feel that I can say that. Tink is a bit of a bitch... At times, 

that is. 

She wants Peter and is willing to do almost anything to get him, including murder. Oh, and other easily missable evidence of the lifestyle of the Pixie is in one throwaway line in that book. 

It gives away a minor detail. It just gives it away. You will get the point that this detail gives away what fairies are really like.

"After a time he fell asleep, and some unsteady fairies had to climb over him on their way home from an orgy."

Hmmm! Yup. I will repeat that.

"After a time he fell asleep, and some unsteady fairies had to climb over him on their way home from an orgy."

That is genuinely a line in Peter Pan the Children's Book. THE CHILDREN'S BOOK! Written by a man who thought he was going to be a Calvinist Minister. You see? You see?

Hopefully, I am convincing you. That it would not be sweet that this little thing has a soft spot for you, it should be, but it is not like that. She is... I don't know. She is able to make me feel uncomfortable at a range of 300 yards. It is weird as fuck.

The Fairy has been in a few episodes by now, and I hope you understand what she is like, by now. She is six inches of sex-crazed psycho. Imagine that stereotype of the Catholic schoolgirl who has been in a single-sex environment. Assuming that the girl is not gay, obviously. I am quite sure an all-female environment full of adolescent hormones is perfect for a young Lesbian or Bisexual youth. But let us assume that they are neither of those things and that she has been told that the most delicious thing that she could not do is fuck. Well, take that massive need for doing it and times it by a hundred, and you get thee Fairy's sex drive. Notice the double ee.

I have a high sex drive, but the Fairy made me look like a... erm, vestal virgin. It made me uncomfortable. Also, if we were to... you know... how would that be... possible? Yeesh, I don't want to think about it. What the fu...

The Professor. 

It was time to go and do some work. It was time to go and find somebody. No, that is not it. It was time to go and find some things that could help spill a little green glowing light on the Fairies.

It was still difficult to believe I would need to investigate the Fairies. Ah... maybe this had been the reason that I had not found this fiasco earlier—my lack of belief. I laughed to myself. I did not believe in Fairies. Or should I say their ability to be the bad guys? Damn. 

I would have to leave instructions for Vaughnt. Erm, Vaughnt is my erstwhile housekeeper, maid and undead, erm... reborn thingy. I found her as a child in the foothills of the Carpathians. Yes, I know the Cliché vampire trope. 

She was not a vampire. She was something else. I first brought her back to study but then got to like the little er creature. It is a bit strange having her around the place. It's like having a cat-shaped person about. She is very erm... Catlike. Well, she is a werecat. I don't have time to go into the details of her here, but I will in the future. She does come with some purrculiarities. They are off-set with how she keeps the house. Immaculate and, well, rodent-free. 

I don't like leaving instructions for her. It... often leads to a smile and a nod. Which... erm... Well. You know, is very catlike with those sharp teeth and that wink, wink blink of hers. 

I know it's a weird thing to notice, but she does not blink properly. She winks with the right, and that wink flashes milliseconds later into a left wink. A blink but not a blink, and for some reason, it points out her lack of humanity. 

My instructions would be necessary, though. She did not drink coffee herself, so she would have to be told to put out the stale beans. Hmmm! I would leave a note, maybe. 

'Vau..' I did not get through the whole word before she stood in front of me. Goodness, she was quick. 

'Erm, yes. Erm. Can you get me my weekend ba...' I tried to catch up with myself.

There was a thud of my ancient leather satchel at my feet. 

'... ag'. I finished. I did not see her move. I really did not. We had used fancy technological cameras to try to catch her moving in the past. You know, like those boffins can do, but however, we slowed the film. She never seemed to move between points. Can werecats teleport?

She blink winked at me. Nothing else on her face moved. It was an emotionless porcelain blank of a mask.

'Ah... er, thanks, and my Henry Poole over...' I stopped. I might as well. There was no point wasting my breath.

She instantly stood before me, holding the said overcoat aloft and ready to help me put it on, which I did.

As I settled myself and gave myself a look over in the mirror, she fastidiously removed the lint. 

She did not do this at high speed. She seemed to take her time. Sometimes, using her rough tongue to remove bits that would not easily be lifted. Oh, don't worry. I had got used to this and she did not mark the material.

She also had the horrible beige Hornby hat that she liked me to wear in her hand, and it was on my head and patted down into a cocky angle a little before I knew what had happened. 

'No thanks, I will leave that here if that is okay. I get enough odd looks from the populace dressing as I do. I find the Hornby is a little 'Non-Grata' at this time.' I said, smiling briefly.

Her face soured for a moment, then she disconcertingly wink blinked. It always threw me a little. 

Everyone blinks, I know, but she wink blinked and on top of that she did not do it often enough. 

It made me uncomfortable because you knew it was coming, but timing it was impossible. It was like those irksome snorers who make snoring worse by having no rhythm. They stop and restart. Get five snores in a short period. You know what I mean. If it had a perceivable rhythm, it would be okay. Ahem.

'Anyway, thank you, V. Could you chuck out the coffee beans and reorder them?'

She nodded. 

'I will have to get going, am afraid. Enjoy your weekend.' She was gone before I had finished...

Wil 

I steeled myself for the interaction that was about to happen. I had left my clothes neatly folded on the passenger seat of the car. I like to keep things neat. You know me.

Oh, you might want to know what kind of car I am driving. Oh, you don't care. I do so I will tell you. It's an Astin Martin V8 from 1987. It drives like a dream. The only issue with it is trying to get the prior owners' blood stains out of the carpets. I mean, cream carpets, you can tell the car is a child of the 80's.

I walked up to the door of the wonderful machine. My concentration was taken for a minute by the car itself. Its paintwork was superb and a darker shade of blue than I would like, but when you have little choice in what is on offer, you take what you can get.

There was music playing in the car. This was strange as I had just taken the keys off the top of the rear driver's side tyre. The windows were a little steamed up, but I could see the diminutive figure glowing in the Dark. At my approach, she had adjusted her clothing and position into something she thought to be more provocative or sexy or something. In my head, I could feel the situation start to build up my anger. 

The tune on the radio was Wham's. It was a Careless Whisper, and somehow, I had grasped and opened the door just in time for the saxophone solo.

The little Fairy was looking good. She always did. I mean, she was radiantly beautiful. She was, she really was, all glowing and sparkly. Against her green skin, she wore a dress that seemed to have been tailored from petals. Red rose petals, if I were to guess. Her eyes were a little too large for that face, and she had purple Irises. She was the basis of many anime characters.

Her hair had been expertly teased into some kind of eighties hairdo. I mean, it was big and in a boofon shape type thing; I think she may have tried to add to her size by adding a lot of volume to that sparkly purple hair. She did indeed look incredible. I even noticed her bare feet, as were her perfectly manicured fingers, were pedicured and painted. 

She acted shocked at my entry, as though she had not set up this whole scene, and very badly acted pulling her dress down to cover her... self. Trying to offer the idea that she was a respectable young... old... I don't know... how old fairies get... To offer the idea that she was... respectable. Whatever that is. She opened the conversation with 

'Oh, that was such a shock. It's you, Wil, oh and your Big doggie. I did not realise this car was yours. I was just passing and saw this beautiful thing and wanted to meet its obvious tasteful owner.'

I could feel Fenrir Bristle at 'Big doggie.' Although, he kept his own response private. Although I knew his anger was building inside him with every passing second. God, she was confident for a little tiny squishable Fairy.

But not to be distracted, I had to remind myself that this was not just any fairy. This was not the cute, helpful Fairies of erm... Fairytales. This was thee Fairy. Notice the double ee in Thee. This was Fairy Foxglove. There were at least ten humans worth of rabid psycho spooned into that tiny body. At least.

As she turned and fluttered those hypnotic, sociopathic eyes, I felt her try to place the glamour on me. I saw and felt her blow a tiny fairy dust cloud from her palm towards me. She was on full... attack... seduction? Erm, something that I needed to avoid. I hope it was an attack. The other thing is a no. 

The dust tickled my nose, and I sneezed. She looked quite shocked as I wafted away the sweet-smelling dust and stood before her. She was used to the Fae world getting high and, erm... friendly with a dash of the dust. My wafting and sneezing was not an expected outcome. But I am a werewolf. Thank fuck.

Instead of the confused, high, fawning thing she expected. She had a naked man offering a little rage as an offered emotion. 

I could see that this reaction to her wiles had thrown her on her back foot... er... wing, but she adapted quickly, falling back into the sexy, sordid seductress almost immediately.

'Well, my goodness.' She said, bringing her hands to either side of her face in fake shock.

'My Goodness, Wil, What does Red Riding Hood say? Grandma, what a big...'

'Ahem!' I butted in

'You don't just own a big doggy. That thing better not be a grower. Wow, you put many Centaurs to shame. ' She said, smiling and eyeing my privates. Yeesh!

I responded calmly and unflustered, looking at her and not trying to cover my... inhibitions. If I had tried to cover my... er... self, she would have taken that as a little victory in this conversational chess game we were playing. Apparently.  

As she stared, I started talking. 

'What do you want, Foxglove?' I asked.

She seemed frozen, looking at my crotch for a moment, and then flinched into action. 

'I just wanted to say hello and see how you are doing. How are you doing? You look like you are doing very well.' She said, smiling, leaning back, and looking down at my parts. 

'Could you pass me my boxer shorts.' She looked at me with a bit of displeasure.

'Please.' I asked her, putting a hand out towards her so she could place the boxers in it. 

It took her a few moments to respond, but once again, she came to life as she took my underwear off the dashboard where they were stashed as if recently... erm... dealt with. 

Foxglove lifted them with the tiny index finger of her right hand and offered them to me. She was going to make me reach for them. I tried to snatch them from her hand. She moved quicker than I, and the underwear landed on her, covering her for a moment as she giggled and disturbingly took a deep sniff and sighed with an 'Aaaaah! wolfman'

I reached over to the passenger seat and lifted the boxers, uncovering her lying there as though in some sort of satisfied rapture.

'Oh.' She mouthed as I revealed her. She slowly opened her eyes, batting her eyelids and stretching her perfect little form in certain effective ways.

I tried to pull the pants away from her, but she held on tight, lifting her to standing from her seat. 

'Oh, so strong!' She gasped. 

Fen had lost it at this point. I won't go into too much detail, but his monologue being sent to my head battered around my skull. He was enraged by the Fairy.

'Oh, is your doggy upset?' She asked in a cute but very patronising manner. The wolf soul, in response, tried to gather himself, although I could feel he was at boiling point next to me. 

I grabbed my clothes and started to get dressed more hurriedly than I would have wished. As I did so, the little woman lay back, observing me. She rubbed her thighs together and showed unsubtle signs of enjoyment. I felt wrong. It felt wrong. It was all wrong. 

Eventually, I sat in the driver's seat and looked at her with all my attention. 

'I repeat, Foxglove. What do you want.' 

'Well, you might ask if this is for business or for pleasure?' She sinfully sibulated. Now lying on her front, her head towards me and stroking a perfect fingernail down my black 511s.

Fen had now joined us, climbing into the back of the car, and was cramped and angry. 

'It is not pleasure, Foxglove.' I told her vehemently. Spitting the words out and quickly pulling my leg from her touch. 

She flickered a very angry microexpression at this and then rebuilt her face to look happy.

'Tell her to fuck off.' Said Fen from the back. 

'Fucking Flower Fairies. If she does not get the fuck out of the fucking car, we will fucking fuck her fucking up.' 

The fairy and I both turned to him in shock at the amount of fucks in that sentence. The wolf's soul could never look embarrassed, and his body language was difficult to discriminate by those who did not know him, but I could tell he was somewhat... rankled. He had managed to make a sentence where the primary word of use was fuck, and it had made complete sense. 

After a few mutterings telling me to get rid of her, he dropped into silence. 

The Fairy and I turned back to each other as if nothing had happened, and we shrugged at each other with what seemed a semi-shared understanding of what had just happened. 

'You don't want pleasure,' she asked me. I placed my left hand on the wheel and looked to push the key home in the ignition. I paused before driving it home. 

'Foxglove.'

'Call me Foxy.' She butted in, patting her freed strands of hair back into her perfect hairdo.

I shook my head at her. 

'Foxglove, please understand that this is me rejecting you nicely. If you know me in any way, which I assume in your stalky nature, you do. I don't often give warnings.' 

I returned my focus to finding the ignition with the key. This way, I did not need to see the results of my response exhibited by the Fairy. I just heard the huff she gave.

After some moments of scrabbling, I eventually rammed the key home in the slot. Sat up, and turned to her. She was now sitting on the dashboard looking out the window, tears in those beautiful eyes. Her legs were crossed, and so were her arms and even her pretty wings. She turned away as I looked at her so I could not see them running from her face, which she tried to wipe away. 

'That hurts a lot Wil.' She sniffed. 

'I am only a woman sitting in front of a ma... thing. No need to be so harsh.' 

I felt really bad. Why did I feel bad? 

Then, as though nothing had happened, she turned to me and let a glorious smile rip across her face. 

'A job then?' She said.

I looked incredulous at her. Of course. I forgot the psychotic part of her, a brain that could swing wildly left and right with vapid fluidity. 

'I don't need a job.' I told her as I turned the key. The engine whirred once, and then nothing more was heard apart from the starter motor trying to engage. 'Click'

"Fuck!' I yelled as I slammed both hands on the wheel. The Fairy giggled in response.

'Oh Wil, have we run out of petrol in this secluded spot with just little delicate me and a big strong lass-iv-e-us Werewolf and his... dog? What is going to become of me? Please take advantage of this strange situation.' 

She overacted her shock and lifted her hands as if to ward me off. She turned her face away like a true damsel in distress from the films of the 1920s.

'Don't you mean don't take advantage?'

She turned her face into that of overthinking this and raising a tiny finger to her little mouth. Then she shook her head in the worldwide recognised body language symbol for 'No.'

I laughed and tried the ignition again; nothing this time. 

'Oh dear.' She said. Now, standing on the seat, a little too close. 

I sat back in my seat and stared at the roof, shaking my own head. 

'She's obviously nobbled the car.' Said Fen. 

'I know!' I barked, and then, knowing it was not Fen I was annoyed with, I apologised to him for my outburst. 

'How wholesome you two are. Such good twee friends. Anyway, there is a job that you are going to do for me.'

I sat forward and laughed in good humour at this.

'There is? You are going to make me do this work, are you?' I asked.

Fen was also laughing at this. 'That's amusing.' He managed to say. 

Foxglove crossed her arms and paid a lot of attention to her nails while she waited for us both to stop laughing. 

As we settled, she tapped her foot, taking her interest from her hands to me and then to Fen. 

'No!' Her voice was different. It sparked something in my brain. 

'No! You will not laugh at me.' Her eyes were filled with violence. They shone and gave off a cowing displeasure. Shit, this was a powerful being. 

'I am giving you the choice to do this without me having to force you.'

I paused and considered her for a moment. She was a little terrifying, to be honest. Then, that little part of me that likes to throw us under life's proverbial bus smiled back. I was going to do something stupid. Something stupid, but it would be fun. 

I laughed and bent to release the bonnet catch. I heard it pop open and turned to the little woman, making deep, concentrated eye contact whilst opening my door to get out. 

'Fuck off, Foxglove.' I told her as I held her eyes and made my way out backwards from the vehicle in order to look at the engine. 

Her eyes were set on mine. Her jaw was set. She was set. I was pushing her to see what she had. I had to win this fight, this eye contact fight. I know it's pathetic, but this felt more like life and death than it really should.

She would have to be the first to break eye contact to show that she understood my point, which she did.

She lifted her eyes to see something above my head and beyond me. 

'Bertram!' She screeched, and then my world went black.