Author’s Note: This story took me a freaking long time to type and my hands hurt. I sacrifice so much for Wolfhook. By the time I graduate, I’ll have serious arthritis, but it’s worth it. It’s all worth it…

“Good morning senator,” Clippy Meyer, the C.E.O. of Oscar Meyer inc greeted the husky man also known as Geoffrey Cabella, “How may I help you?”

“Don’t be stupid Meyer,” the senator droned, “You know exactly what I want.” Geoffrey closed Clippy’s office door behind him and drew the blinds shut.

“You mean you still haven’t caught that little Wolfhook varmint yet?” Meyer acted disgusted.

“Little?” The senator was bewildered at the man’s ignorance. “It’s a little more complicated than that actually. We’ve lost seven agents to this beast.”

“Well, last time you brought one of my wienermobiles back, the gas meter was on empty.” Clippy stated in his usual bossy tone.

“Meyer, you fool! It’s not one of your petty ‘mobiles’ that I want. I want to catch this wretched wolf… for good!” A bead of sweat glittered on Cabella’s brow. “His reign of terror can soon be over. All I need is a little cooperation, Clippy.”

“B-b-but I thought… What exactly do you, uh…” Meyer made an idiot out of himself.

“I need the entire factory,” Geoffrey replied, “It’s the only way, you see where I’m coming from?” The senator started flashing back. “Oh how I wish we’d never approved project Genex. None of this would’ve ever happened. It was that infernal Sobotski! He’s a madman, I tell you.” Cabella paced angrily around the room.

“No Geoff, I can’t let you take my factory. Where will the public get their hotdogs from?” It was a bold statement, even for Clippy.

“I really didn’t want to do this,” the senator pivoted to face Meyer, “but you always to EVERYTHING the hard way!” Cabella tore his pistol from its holster. “Goodbye old friend.” Would be the last words ever spoken to young Clippy. Geoffrey shot Meyer in the face six times, impaling his voicebox, and boring several holes through his skull. Clippy’s eyes were as big as soccerballs as he sank to the floor, blood streaming down the back of his shirt, drizzling into, and flooding out of his mouth. Smoke wisped out of the gun, drifted upward and set off the fire alarm. The senator calmly put his sunglasses on and turned for the door.

The entire office building was evacuated. Chaos ensued, and Cabella made his silent escape in all the madness. The bright sun reflected off Geoffrey’s black, government issue 2003 BMW. He sped down the freeway, weaving in and out of traffic. He was flipped off several times, but paid no attention. In a short hour, Cabella arrived at Oscar Meyer’s factory in Detroit. He entered the building and found the main office. A short, stubby man sat behind an oak desk, typing furiously on his computer.

“Mr. Cobb?” Cabella questioned. Cobb, the manager looked up at the senator over the brim of his glasses. “I’m sorry to inform you that Clippy Meyer passed away this morning from natural causes. You’ve been dismissed.”

“Wait just a…” Cobb started, but cut himself short, seeing the look in Geoffrey’s eye. Cobb knew this man meant business.

“Leave,” Geoffrey stared the pathetic man down. ‘Pathetic Man’ as he was now known, scuttled out of the office. Cabella strolled over to the computer and brought up the screen Cobb’d been on; pornography. “Sick perv,” Geoffrey mumbled quietly and kicked the crap out of the monitor. The sun was high over the factory, pulsating harmful ultraviolet rays. Cabella paced back and forth across the dusty, cluttered office. He concentrated hard on the specifics of his mission to exterminate the evil creature that was Wolfhook.

Geoff left the office and walked down a long hallway, his footsteps echoing off the walls. He eventually made his way to the large production rooms. Cabella grinned wide. He took great pleasure in watching countless hotdogs roll of the assembly line and be put into packages for shipping. The delicious aroma of hotdogs filled the air. It was time to put his plan into action, thought the senator. Cabella made his way to the ingredient room. Various pumps and other machines mixed and churned hotdog meat. Geoffrey slyly removed a vial from his inner coatpocket. Within the vial festered the most addictive substance known to man: Supertine. Geoffrey poured the substance into a large vat.

“You’re just a friggin’ animal, Wolfhook,” the senator spoke softly to a hotdog machine, “Only a diamond bullet can kill you, I know, but everybody has a weakness… an Achilles Heel. And I must say, yours is most unfortunate. The hotdogs will kill you. The hotdogs WILL kill you…” Cabella chuckled to himself and exited the room.

Duckhook studied Wolfhook hard. An unusual troubled expression crossed Wolfhook’s face.

“I can’t help it, Duckhook, I don’t want to kill anymore. I never wanted to in the first place, and look at me now,” Wolfhook said, exasperated, “It’s just… whenever that bloody moon would fill up, I’d turn into an entirely different wolf. Then I discovered hotdogs… beautiful hotdogs. I’m ugly, Duckhook!”

“Oh Wolfhook, I fell you brother… I feel you all too well. It’s this hell we were destined to live and spend our entire lives living,” Duckhook sighed, “Sometimes I too wish someone’d just end it all for me. I crave for a diamon bullet to pierce my breast just once. I also crave hotdogs.”

“I’ll be right back,” Wolfhook said and left to check the mail. One letter was all the mailbox contained. Wolfhook fumbled with the envelope and struggled to open it with his hooks. Eventually it was opened and a letter withdrawn.

“What is it?” Duckhook was curious.

Wolfhook read the letter aloud. “Dearest Mr. Wolfhook,” it began, “It has been brought to our attention that you especially like hotdogs. As part of our 2004 ad campaign, we are hiring a celebrity to sponsor our new line of Niccodogs. Our advertising committee though such a famous character as yourself promoting our product would surely boost its sales. I have enclosed in this envelope a complimentary Niccodog. I hope you enjoy it. Sincerely, Geoffrey Cabella, C.E.O. of Oscar Meyer inc.” Wolfhook finished the letter and searche dthe envelope for a hotdog.

“Hmmmm,” Duckhook though about the proposition, “Let’s have a taste of that hotdog.” Wolfhook broke the dog into two pieces and gave one to Duckhook. Simultaneously, the two nibbled off and end of their piece, then quickly gobbled down the rest.

“That was heavenly!” Wolfhook exclaimed with trembling hooks.”

“I must have more!” Duckhook added, his bill starting to salivate excessively. “What is the return address on that envelope?”

“256 Emery Lane,” Wolfhook was already putting on his trenchcoat and top hat. Duckhook followed suit. Soon the pair was ready and they trotted and waddled out the door.

When they got to the train station, a nerdy young man was operating the ticket booth. “May I help you?” he asked with a sniffle, readjusting his glasses.

Wolfhook’s psychotic alter ego kicked in and so did the Supertine. “Hotdogs,” he demanded.

The nerd looked confused. A pimple on his nose grew bigger. “I’m… sorry sir, uhh… we don’t sell those here. Just tick…” Duckhook slashed the boy’s face. The wolf and duck took all the tickets from the booth and boarded the Michigan Express headed for Detroit.

“You know, Duckhook,” Wolfhook began, “I never had the chance to properly thank you for breaking me out of jail, so… thank you.”

“Sure thing man,” Duckhook replied, “And I’m sorry for trying to set you on fire and kill you, but you know how the way things were…” And so it appeared all was forgiven and the two would be friends from here on out, but Wolfhook knew something that the poor, insolent duck never realized. Even if Duckhook hadn’t freed Wolfhook from jail, the fire wouldn’t have affected him. Wolfhook can only be brought down with a diamond bullet. He is virtually invincible. Gaining Duckhook’s trust was all part of the wolf’s master plan. Wolfhook could now twist and manipulate the duck to his own liking. Duckhook’s eyelids fluttered and soon he was lulled to sleep by the constant hum of the train on the tracks.

Wolfhook was bored. “This train is going too effing slow,” he whispered into the darkness, rising to his foot hooks. Wolfhook drew back their compartment’s curtain and crept out into the dim aisle. He passed numerous compartments on his way to the front of the train. Moonlight shone through the skylights. Wolfhook tried to avoid it the best he could.

“Detroit Central, this is Captain Lafitte, come in,” the trains conductor tiredly spoke into the radio. Lafitte suddenly dropped the radio. He saw something… floating in front of the train. “What on Earth?” Then he realized, it was the reflection of an animal. ‘Twas Wolfhook. A cold hook plunged straight through the back of the conductor’s chair and into his back. The hook wrapped around Lafitte’s backbone and yanked it back through the chair. Blood sprayed. The ribs in Lafitte’s chest were loosened and one stabbed his heart. Lafitte doubled over and slumped to the floor.

“Lafitte, this is Detroit Central. State your position, please.” A crackly voice came back through the radio. A minute passed. “I repeat this is Detroit…” the voice was interrupted. Wolfhook brought the radio close to his snout. His nasal mucus wet the receiver.

“Hotdogs,” he declared, and smashed the radio on Lafitte’s head. Wolfhook shoveled coal into the furnace as quickly as he could. Flames greedily consumed the coal, and roared to life. The wolf pumped the accelerator and the train shot forward like a bullet.

The old man was brought into the office blindfolded by two muscular men hired by Cabella to do his ‘chores’. “What you doing? I say put me down!” Mr. Chang ranted as he struggled to free himself from the mens’ strong grip, “I no criminal!”

Cabella ordered the men to release Chang. The two large men pu the man down and left the room. Mr. Chang tore the blindfold away from his face. “Good afternoon Mr. Chang,” Geoffrey sneered, “So nice to see you.”

“Why you want me?” Chang’s eyes darted around the shabby office like a frightened squirrel.

“You have something that I want, Mr. Chang,” Cabella began, propping his feet up on the desk, “And I always get what I want.”

“What you talking about!?” Chang began to perspire heavily, beads of sweat gushed out from his forehead. “I just old man and am poor!”

The senator chuckled loudly, “Do you take me for a fool? Mr. Chang, I’m noly going to ask you once. Give me the diamond bullet!”

“Never!” Mr. Chang turned to run, but Cabella was too fast for the old coot. Just as Chang’s hand made contact with the doorknob, Geoffrey let the letter opener fly from his hand. It pierced the old man in the center of his back. Mr. Chang gasped and stumbled backwards. He plummeted to the floor and the blade was driven straight through his torso. The sharp point of the letter opener hit his sternum and busted it into two halves. His rib cage expanded without anything to hold it together, and one by one the separate ribs broke through the skin. The dead man’s chest was opened wide exposing the gruesome sight beneath. Geoffrey checked the body’s coat pockets and found what he was lookng for. he held the glittering bullet up to his eye.

“You’re next, Wolfhook!” Cabella shouted at the bullet. At that same precise moment, he heard in the distance a choo choo train tooting away. Geoffrey’s ugly cracked lips curled up at the sides into a devilish smile, “Right on schedule, you little cretin!”

The wolf and the duck stepped off of the train. Fog curled up around their ankles. They had arrived. Duckhook seemed to be foaming at the bill again. “I can smell them,” he announced, “We’re close.”

“Duckhook!” Wolfhook chastized the bird, “You’re foaming everywhere! Cut it out.” Duckhook ceased the foaming and raised a wing to flag down a taxi. In doing so, his sleeve fell down and one of his wicked hooks was exposed. A yellow cab pulled up to the curb in seconds and the shiny metal was quickly withdrawn.

The cabdriver wore a large dirtied turban. “Wheh to?” he asked. Wolfhook tossed the envelope on the front seat for the man to see. “Ahhh, you like se hotdogs, no?” he knowingly inquired. Finally, thought the duck and wolf, someone who understood them. “Very goot, very goot,” the turbaned man said, “I take you theh extra queek.”

The thoughts Wolfhook and Duckhook had had a moment ago of eating the cabdriver were now vanishing. They could use this guy. The Oscar Meyer factory was located in a ghettoish place in downtown Detroit. Wolfhook payed the cab driver and the pair turned to face the large building that towered over them. The swet scent of Niccodogs was overwhelming.

“I can’t handle this much longer!” Duckhook half groaned, half quacked, “Must… have… dogs!” The duck and wolf sprinted the short distance to the factory’s main entrance. “So, what’s the plan?” Duckhook asked anxiously.

“I’m not quite sure,” Wolfhook cogitated deeply, “I’m broke, man. I’ve got four hooks to my name.”

“You know, you COULD always take that advertising job.” Duckhook suggested, thinking about nothing but the Niccodogs.

“Are you insane!? Wolfhook took a step back, “We’d be killed of captured for sure.”

“Good point,” Duckhook agreed, “I’m still hungry.” Wolfhook led the way as they slithered in the doors like shadows. The hotdogs were so close now.

Mr. Cabella watched wolfhook enter from a high window. “Hee, hee, hee,” he giggled and turned to watch his surveillance screens. wolfhook scurried down the halls, his trench coat flowing out behind him. “What the…,” Geoffrey leaned closer to the screen. Wolfhook wasn’t alone! A small something hobbled along beside him. Geoffrey was flabbergasted. Who could his mysterious sidekick be he wondered. “Could it be…?” Cabella thought hard. Were the rumors true? Did wolfhook really have an illegitemate son? But, ’twas no illegitemate son. ‘Twas Duckhook. Just then Duckhook threw his coat back exposing his brilliant naked feathers of glory. The duck turned to face the camera. Furious eyes glared up at the senator from the screen. Duckhook liad an egg and caught it with his wing. Geoffrey saw the pearly elliptical shape come flying at him and then… nothing. The camera was covered in a thick gooey egg. “Blast!” Cabella shouted, “I’m ruined!” The tears poured out from his sockets, “Wait a minute. Pull yourself together!” Geoffrey began to talk to himself, “You can’t let them get away!” The senator picked himself up, wiped his eyes, and shoved the diamond bullet in his six-shooter. Geoffrey dasehd out the door. The shiz was about to hit the fan.

Wolfhook and Duckhook followed their nose, but definetely not to Froot Loops. They were drawn to the delicioso Niccodogs. At long last the production room appeared before them. The way the hotdogs rolled hot off the press was extremely hypnotic. Wolfhook’s eyes were swirly. As he and the duck marched towards the Niccodogs like a scene out of Night of the Living Dead , Cabella, perched up in the rafters set his sights on Wolfhook’s head. Only one diamond bullet meant no practice shots. He had to be extremely precise.

Wolfhook sniffed the air. Something wasn’t quite right. His wolfey senses were activated. They were kind of like spidey senses, but for wolves with hooks. Duckhook continued to waddle, wings outstretched, towards the Niccodogs. Wolfhook darted behind a stack of crates and clambered up a ladder.

“Aarrghh!!” the senator shouted as the wolf disappeared from sight. Wolfhook made his way into the rafters. there he was: Cabella. Sitting so smugly with his hand gun.

“Peek-a-boo, I see you!” Wolfhook giggled, as he emerged from the shadows.

“Eeeeek!” Geoffrey was so startled he dropped the rifle. It clanged on the cement floor below, snapping Duckhook out of his crazed BBQ feasting.

“Toss me the gun, Duckhook!” Wolfhook shouted down to his ‘partner’.

“Quack,” the duck tossed up the gun.

“He, he, he,” Wolfhook cackled, “What were you thinking, Mr. Bigshot C.E.O.? Did you honestly think you could defeat me? HA HA HA!”

Cabella trembled with a look of disbelief on his face, “N-n-nooo!! Please don’t hurt me!” Meanwhile, Duckhook turned back to the Niccodogs to resume his wild gorging. He shook so much, the vibration of hish ooks on the floor made a humming sound like the train did. Wolfhook raised the gun and pointed the barrel at Geoffrey. Cabella closed his eyes tight. In one swift motion, Wolfhook brought the gun down and aimed it at the helpless duck. The diamond bullet came out of the barrel, shining intensely. It headed towards the duck. A bumble bee that was minding its own business wandered in through an open window. How unfortunate for the bee. It came in between the diamong bullet and Duckhook. A small cloud of pollen erupted from the bumble bee upon the bullet’s impact. The duck was unharmed. Wolfhook was infuriated.

“Aye!” he shouted, “foiled again!” Now Wolfhook turned for Cabella. “This factory’s mine!” he shouted.

“Of course!” the senator trembled, “Whatever you want!”

Wolfhook came upon the man and shoved a gleaming hook far into his ear. The drum was pierced. The hammer and anvil chimed against each other. Cabella let out a blood-curdling cry. With a hook in Geoffrey’s skull, the wolf slammed his head into a thick steel beam. Cabella was out like a wet dog. Wolfhook climbed down from the rafters to dine with Duckhook.