She was old school and classy. The deep

She was old school and classy. The deep red lips, soft little hands, and her scent that would make a man melt like a candle. They don't make em like that no more, and today

she is a greeter at Walmart. She uses her sultry come-hither smile to entice the men to save money and live better. Known as the Mata Hari of checkout lane six, she

stripped while she scanned prices and made change. Unfortunately, she was as old as Mata Hari and aside from a few weirdos, her exotic Walmart cashier shtick was severely

taxing the manager's patience. He was used to hiring employees from societies fringe on minimum wages, but the oddballs she was attracting were bad for business, especially the guy

with the tufts of blonde hair emerging from the neck of his wife beater, strange since he was Latino, stranger still because he was about 15 years old and

hadn't yet gone through puberty. No doubt about it, he was a werewolf. So when the night of a full moon came, he took extra care to bind himself. He didn't account for the power of

cheese, especially when the love of his life went out for a walk in the still of the night, munching on a provolone and peanut butter sandwich. Lupine desire burst his restraints,

and his howl longed to be muffled by her peanut-buttery tongue. His yellow eyes glowed as he leaped into the night, nose tuned to the scent of cheese, nuts, and woman. Over the

course of the night, the werewolf devored an eclectic assortment of people including an Asian preist, the pizza delivery boy, and the little girl up the road who was always