Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm. Although the following announcement may be rather shocking, I ask you not to panic. Unless panicking is the best way for you to unleash the angry villager within, because we will need that mob-like mentality for the hunt.
UW-Madison has a werewolf on campus.
I know such an important finding should be announced in a scientific journal or at least the Cardinal front page, but as my research is just beginning, I chose to share it with my loyal readers first. All seven of you.
Some may call me crazy. Others will laugh. Still others may blame my hunch on my weekend spent glued to the TV watching Discovery Channel’s “A Haunting” and the “Wisconsin Werewolves” special on the Travel Channel. But all you have to do is look at the signs, and you will understand.
Wisconsin has had numerous werewolf sightings across the state and Madison provides an especially werewolf-friendly environment: wooded areas, a dismally low production rate of silver bullets and little or no vampire competition for resources. And when there is a full moon, the whole campus goes crazy—at least when the full moon coincides with a weekend. Who is going to notice if one student in a group of drunken partygoers is slightly hairier and more bloodthirsty than the rest?
Not only are the conditions right, but I have begun seeing evidence of the werewolf on campus. In the fall, I saw birds with their heads missing lying on the sidewalk. I knew it was not the act of some psychotic raccoon, but no one would believe me then.
Around Winter Break there was a howling outside my window that some claimed was simply a drunk guy running around the parking lot, but I knew better. And although my dorm blames it on the good and noble Cookie Fairy, my entire bag of chocolate chip cookies could not have disappeared before I even ate one without some sort of evil, paranormal presence.
For the good of campus safety and vengeance of my cookies, I have taken it upon myself to find and trap this werewolf. I have assembled some of the best werewolf hunters in the state. Conveniently, they all live in my dorm.
Each has trained rigorously and will be key to catching this werewolf. We have re-enacted the “Rocky” workout montage a thousand times, worn out a “Buns of Steel” video and sweated to the oldies with Richard Simmons to train our bodies to compete with that of a werewolf. We have studied every special the Discovery Channel has to offer on the subject to make our minds like that of our prey. This, combined with listening to Warren Zevon’s “Werewolves of London” on repeat, has turned my team into werewolf-hunting warriors.
Although each member has a special assignment, like designing werewolf-proof armor or packing juice boxes for snack time, the most fundamental team member is the man we use as bait. My friend Kale’s ridiculous sense of humor makes him perfect—only he could laugh off getting his intestines eaten by a werewolf and not sue me. He is an odd one, that boy.
As our hunt approaches—the next full moon is
March 21—the team grows more nervous. What if it is too cloudy and the werewolf doesn’t come out?
What if the werewolf musk we found on eBay isn’t strong enough to lure one in? What if Kale isn’t enough to satiate the beast’s appetite? He is a little on the lanky side…
Some are nervous that we plan to trap the beast instead of killing it. I have a feeling we may take a lot of flak for this expedition, so we will need living proof to rub in everyone’s faces.
And what will we do with the werewolf after it has made us all rich and famous? Well, we could make a donation to the Henry Vilas Zoo. I’m sure a werewolf would be a pretty big attraction.
If you would like to join Megan’s Werewolf Hunt Squad or just “Sweat to the Oldies” with her and Richard Simmons, e-mail Megan at mcorbett2@wisc.edu.
