Meanwhile, in an alternate universe, somewhere in Pennsylvania. . .
Night of the Delawarewolf
The rain beat down on an unassuming man trudging through the Pennsylvanian countryside.
He stopped every now and then to pour the water from his sodden brogues or to rub his jaw, the toothache was really rather appalling on this trip.
The barn loomed darkly just ahead of the walnut grove, organ music filled the wet air.
Cursing the black walnut shells that dug into his worn out soles, he popped another Advil and gazed up at the October full moon.
"Am I a reality TV star?"
"What I am is dreadfully, mind-numbingly bored! This is the lamest party evvverrr!"
"Oh come on, finish the round, it's fun!"
The Dark peeled the post it note from its forehead (George bloody Washington again!) and miserably sipped at the cup of lukewarm cider.
"Can't we at least go and trick or trick with the monkeys?"
"I think you mean trick or treat."
"I know exactly what I mean, love. Tell you what, you get to play one more round.
If I win, it's trick a monkey time, if I lose" he shuddered, "Well, we'll have another game of bloody Kerplunk, deal?"
The Light gleefully scribbled onto another post it, triumphantly slapping it onto the Dark's forehead.
"George Washington!" The Dark rather rudely stuck out its black forked tongue.
Lightning flashed and the rain beat down with increasing fury in Pennsylvania as the Dark actually started to enjoy the lamest evvverrr Hallowe'en party.
The man from Delaware leaned against the wet bark, futilely trying to dry his fingers on his soaking gabardine before gingerly poking at the offending tooth.
Strange – both canines felt much longer and sharper than usual.
Oh joy, yet another side effect of reality jumping?
His fingers tasted very strongly of the donut he'd eaten for breakfast, the only thing he'd managed to eat that morning.
Must've been a good one if he could still taste it fourteen hours later!
He loosened his laces a little more, maybe the trusty brogues were shrinking with all the rain, drying out, getting wet again, leather did that, right?
He wiggled his soaking toes, feeling nails scratch against his toe caps. Either his brogues were shrinking or his feet were growing! He chuckled to himself and grudgingly left the scant shelter of the walnut tree.
Cats! Sniffing the air, he could definitely smell cats. A female house kitty and an older farm cat, a hunter. Another nostril full and he recognised the exciting scent of a recent kill, chipmunk?
Without realising, the man from Delaware crouched low, thighs tensing, eyes peering rather effectively into the rainy gloom.
His mouth watered as he thought of a tummy full of fresh meat.
He abruptly stood up, shaking his rather shaggy head to dispel the grisly thought.
The music from the barn, now crystal clear, forced him to concentrate on the task at hand.
Trudging rather gracefully through the delightfully refreshing still falling rain, the man from Delaware stared up in awe at the beauty of the full moon.
"Will you stop with the sulking, please?"
"Just don't think it's fair, I mean he's almost one of us, part of the team."
"And I've said, a billion times now, it's just one night in one reality in one tiny universe, it won't upset the Balance, just a bit of fun! Stop moaning, please!"
"Still don't think it's fair, all he's done for us."
"Look, he doesn't know anything about "us" or a "team", he's merely a way of balancing realities, a tool if you like?"
"You're the bloody tool!"
With that the Light sulked off to play solo Kerplunk, leaving the Dark to enjoy the game.
The man from Delaware pushed hairy fingers through the chipmunk-induced drool, marvelling that for the first time in decades his toothache had stopped.
Not still there, in the background – an ache just waiting to flare as his brogues set foot in some other place, no, this was a "I haven't got a toothache at all" kind of feeling.
A "yes, I will have a nice crunchy Apple, piece of treacle toffee or a nice black shelled walnut to crack" kind of no-toothache confidence.
He felt great! Carefree, young, powerful. Hungry. Very very hungry.
He also felt suddenly very uncomfortable in his rather too tight and very damp clothes.
Dipping into a rather thick copse of walnut, the man from Delaware threw caution – and his clothing – to the winds.
Naked under the full moon, he filled his lungs with the scents bombarding him and let out what most people around the multiverse would probably describe as a howl.
Coincidentally, at that very moment, the Godfather of Heavy Leslie was completing his latest music video.
"Bach at the Moon" was destined to be Christmas number one.
Molly jumped from her perch as the howl split the air.
DeeGee did a double take, checking the sound effects were off, "I'm sorry Moll, just a recording, must've been a bit too much echo on the outro?"
The kitten raised its hackles, spat her contempt at his explanation and decided she wanted to be far, far away from the barn that evening.
As her tail disappeared through the cat flap, the scratching started at the main door.
The scratching became howl accompanied banging. Clawing, scraping, insistent. Hungry.
Something furious wanted in.
"Cool!" The Godfather of Heavy Leslie picked up the camcorder, hit the replay button of the Bach at the Moon soundtrack, and moved towards the commotion.
"And you do realise....?" The Light pointed several plastic Kerplunk sticks at the Dark's beaming face, ".... You do realise, that if, if, you allow this ... This...erm, if you allow this.. Delawarewolf to eat the hippy musician, if that's what you call a 'fun' party game," the Light stopped.
Calculating which moment of which time in which Reality in which universe the Delawarewolf was at this very moment of eternity. It took a while, obviously.
"Where was I? Ah yes, if you allow this Delawarewolf to devour the hippy musician…"
"Get. On. With. It. Please!" The Dark hissed.
"Ok, if…blah blah blah...you do realise that the only party snacks that have ever been invented, and will only ever be available, will be…" the Light grimaced at the thought, "even though they're only monkeys, do you really, really I mean, really…"
"Arghhh, just tell me!" The Dark was about to burst into flame, literally.
"So be it, enjoy your eternity of Twiglets!"
The Dark grimaced in turn. Clicking his claws he turned away from the game.
In Pennsylvania, an unassuming man, slightly embarrassed and rather puzzled, stood naked, wet and shivering in a walnut grove.
Pulling on his soaking, but well-fitting clothes, cursing as walnut shells dug into his bare but normal sized soles, he smiled, relieved that his toothache had returned.