Papa and Nana sit shivering, knees ready to give out on them, as the night outside quiets. Almost too quiet. The half-wolf, half-demon has stopped roaring and scraping his nails on the window. His face has disappeared from the window, leaving a tension-filled quiet behind.
Papa fiddles with the rifle, his hand shaking so bad, he can't even check if the thing has bullets. A wet spot appears on his pants.
You always were a wussy.
(She grabs the rifle.)
Even when Willie was young, I always had to change the diapers. Too stinky. Too gross, you said.
(In a few short jerky actions, she checks the rifle.)
Right at the moment, when Papa and Nana look at each other, both with an expression that says, we're screwed, a thundering sounds on the door. Except, this beast has no manners and crashes through anyway. Screams.
The place is in chaos as the reports flood in. Hundreds of people in the Rose Hill Mobile Home Park have been eaten down to the bones. The head detective, named Shirley--a man, not a woman, a grudge he nurses against his parents--tries to control the state of panic. This isn't something he's ever seen and he wants the job done well because he wants that promotion, a move to the city.
Two teens walk through the door. His hair is frizzy with unkempt curls. His midrib T-shirt leaves his bloated and hairy belly exposed. At his side, is a girl, the exact opposite. Everything about her neat and clean. Her short black hair, jeans and modest T-shirt.
MASTER OF THE UNIVERSE
You can call me master of the universe for that is what I am to you.
(he is mostly ignored)
MISTRESS OF THE UNIVERSE
(puts two fingers in her mouth and lets out an ear-piercing whistle. Everyone quiets.)
My boyfriend just spoke and no one listened. Mistake number one.
(She walks over to the desk and plants her knee-high boot on the Shirley's desk.)
Do you want the beast taken care of or not?
(Eyes the two teens, a look of victory in his eyes.)
And how do you expect to kill this beast?
(leans closer, snapping her gum)
Now if we told you that, you'd take all the credit for this, wouldn't you now, Shirley? How we take care of paranormal creatures is our business. Do you want our help or not? That's ten thousand cash.
Shirley hems and haws, eyes the photo of his family, eyes the flaring nostrils and blood-red nail polish of the impertinent girl in front of him.
(Presses his lips together, thinking.)
Except I get to escort the two of you.
Master and Mistress hold an entire communication just through looks.
Fine by us. It's your life.