Page Five Ghoul - October 7th, 2017

Wolpertinger? It damn near killed ‘er!

Byline: Gary Llewellyn
Dateline: October 7th, 2017

Are you religious? If you’re reading this in Europe maybe not. If you’re reading this from America, particularly in the South or Colorado Springs,  you probably are or will say you are for the sake of self-preservation. Well, worry about your unfortunate condition no longer. There are beasts roaming the forests of Bavaria that will convince you, once and for all, that there either is no God or he/she/it just does not give a fuck; the Wolpertinger. These genetic potlucks look like someone animated one of those children’s books with the ring bound cards where you can mix and match the animal parts by flipping the different segments. Like a spiral bound manifesto of Doctor Moreau. It’s when genes cross the line between random chance and just fucking with you. All the woodland creatures gathered one day and had a key party and today their mutant spawn roam the countryside of Bavaria and generally make annoying little shits of themselves.

For instance, I present a duck with antlers, a sparrow’s wings, and rabbit’s ass. How is any of this shit supposed to work together? There’s not enough mass here to make use of the antlers and too much to make use of the wings. And that rabbit ass is just gonna sink. Here one would expect natural selection to perform its merciful duty and nip this shit in the bud. But thanks to the tourism industry, modern man can once again give a knobby, rigid middle finger to natural selection and provide a support system to Mother Nature’s little burdens of the state. Tens of thousands of cooing nitwits flock from middle-class abodes around the world to gawk, take pictures and throw their Cheetos at these cruel parodies of the Almighty’s craft. This arrangement is fine (depends on how loose you’re willing to get with the word ‘fine’), if you fall somewhere on the Kawaii scale between ‘Adorable to the point of eliciting the urge to consume it’ and ‘At least it doesn’t stink’. But what about the others that couldn’t even chart as ‘so ugly it’s cute’? Others like the flying tarantula-faced rattlesnake. Or as the locals call him, ‘Meingottinhimmel’.

Meingottinhimmel and his friends Lamprey Toad and The Squid Face Kid have taken to a life of petty crime. However, since none of their bits work right together, they are pretty awful at it and often go to bed hungry. It doesn’t have to be like this.

So this is a message to all the kids out there who are itching to make a difference in this world. Maybe your parents have taken you to Bavaria to see a bunch of lame penguins with otter heads. You must be dying to see something metal. Well, tell your folks to take you on down to Gary’s Metal Wolpertinger Tours. When you’re tired of watching your little sister getting nuzzled by fennec fox monkeys, Gary’s got ya covered. For just a few clams you can watch a praying mantis chihuahua eating live school children. I don’t know where he gets them and I’m not getting involved. That shit’s got nothing to do with me. But, for five euro I’ll tell you where you can see it.

It’s Magic

Byline: Stephanie Morgan
Dateline: October 7th, 2017

O.M.G., SEG-ers, these things are soooooo cuuuuuuteeeeee. I can’t stand it. Oh my god, I want to hug them so tight I crush them and eat them alive. I’m going to live here. This is where I shall found my kingdom. My religion. We’ll need a new one, since the old ones no longer suffice. God doesn’t exist. At least not in the forms they speak of. If there was a God, this is what regular animals would look like. The baby seal, crossed with a baby otter, crossed with an adult angora bunny, that shall be the standard that flies on my banners.

Gary and the kobolds were wandering around this adorable paradise moping and glum, because I refused to allow them to make and market Wolpertinger shoes and handbags.

The kobolds will get over it and Gary already has. He’s trying to get a bunch of freaked out emo kids to pay to watch this tarantula snake thing eat mice. Not all of the Wolpertingers are cute and fuzzy. Not sure I could live somewhere with a very real risk of leaping, carnivorous squid jumping out of the bushes barking at me. But, I can’t exclude some Wolpertinger from my realm and not others based purely on appearance. That’s not a world I would want to live in. But neither is a world with scorpion puppies. So I must leave this place. Leave behind the slow loris/piglet combo that fell asleep on my shoulder and is softly snoring his dreams into my ear. Goodbye, slow piglet. When you awake I’ll be gone. But I’ll leave you with a dream of my own. A dream of a land for all you adorable freaking monsters. Squee, I can’t take it! I just want to eat them up.

Gary needs to get me out of here. I did a full three sixty on my own epiphany, that’s usually about the time he starts tapping his watch. He needs to pull me from this bewitchment, but I just saw him running from the police with The Squid Face Kid. I have to fight this. This isn’t just cuteness overload. This is magic. Is this Alwyn’s doing? !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The piggie just snorted! No. Fight it. Start walking, Steph. One foot in front of the other. Get out of the Wolpertinger forest.

But...where am I going to go, really? I’m being silly, I can’t leave here. The standard kittens of Man’s World can no longer offer satiety when I have seen baby goats with rabbit feet...on a pajamas. And nobody ruined it with Yakety Sax.