The Sushi at the Werewolf Bar

Once upon a time, in the wild wild woods of Dallas-Ft. Worth..well maybe not the woods. This was closer to the city after all. Anyway, on the corner of Cedar Springs and Reagan Street there was a little cottage. No, wait it wasn't a cottage. It was a bar. More specifically it was a werewolf bar, meaning that it was 'made for werewolves' and not 'made out of werewolves'. And if you think this is a bit strange then you haven't been in the metroplex long.

The bar had white walls, and looked like a deserted building. Instead of glass doors in the front, the doors were covered in wood paneling. There was a patio, but no one uses it, because werewolves generally don't like being seen at a busy intersection.

Our story begins on a rather warm Thursday night. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the full moon smiled down on the people out and about in the bustling city. There were a few anti-gay protestors marching with large signs up and down the sidewalk, but no one was paying attention to them so they got depressed and went home. A typical night here on Cedar Springs.

Inside the werewolf bar it was warm and friendly. The dimly lit walls were covered in dark wooden boards, with random pictures of the moon. Above the fireplace hung a picture of Lon Chaney Jr. autographed with the words "Thank you for a great time. You really made me feel at home."

A black and white-furred werewolf with sky blue eyes, sat down at the bar.

"What'll it be, Fred?" said Charlie the werewolf bartender. Charlie had reddish brown fur, and was sporting a wolfish smirk. Fred, the black and white werewolf, stared off into the air for a few seconds.

"Uhhh... give me a fuzzy navel... and a kitten," said Fred the werewolf.

Charlie the werewolf bartender smiled, because he could make a really good fuzzy navel drink. He mixed up some peach schnapps, orange juice, and a little dash of vodka together and poured it over a glass of crushed ice. A fresh orange slice placed on the glass rim complimented the drink. Charlie the werewolf bartender then reached into a drawer under the counter and took out a six-week-old orange tabby kitten.

"Nice kitty," Fred the werewolf said, petting the kitten's soft fur.

"Meow," said the kitten. Oh dear. Fred the werewolf had a hankering for kitten meat. Well they're like a tabby-flavored pizza roll if your maw is large enough.

"Now stop that right now!" said Fred the werewolf, breaking the fourth wall. "We may be werewolves, but we're not barbaric, Mister Narrator! Stick with the script!"

Fred the werewolf finished petting the kitten, and Charlie the werewolf bartender put it back in the kitten drawer. Fred began to sip his fuzzy navel, enjoying the sharp peach-orange flavor splash against his tongue.

Suddenly Fred the werewolf saw something odd. Next to him was a plastic disposable container with a clear covered top. Inside were ten neatly-arranged sushi rolls: two spicy tuna rolls, two philadelphia rolls, two salmon rolls, two octopus rolls, and two red snapper rolls. A paper-wrapped set of wooden chopsticks rested on the lid.

"Hey, who's is this?" Fred the werewolf asked Charlie the werewolf bartender.

"I don't know," said Charlie the werewolf bartender.

"Oh sorry. That's mine," said a dark brown-furred werewolf with wild yellow eyes.

"Ted the werewolf," Charlie the werewolf bartender said, getting himself and the narrator confused for a minute. "Er I mean... Ted, what's this?

"I got a little hungry, and I wanted something besides bar food,"

Charlie the werewolf bartender looked a little upset. "How can you say that? I put a little bit of love into every recipe that comes through that kitchen. How would you like it if I came to YOUR house and insulted YOUR cooking?!"

"I'm sorry," said Ted the werewolf. "I'm just trying to watch my wolfish waistline."

"Well I can understand if you need something healthier than deep fried foods... But I still have to enforce the rules," he said, pointing at the sign on the wall.

NO OUTSIDE FOOD OR DRINK!