Budgie’s Journal #31- Writing Prompt 42 Response

This is in response to a writing prompt posted by A L HinderMann . You can find it here:

Writing Prompt 42


“You saved my life,” he said, dusting off his khaki-coored jumpsuit. He sounded like he was from Russia or one of those countries that used to associate with them. “That street sweeper would’ve killed me.”

“No… problem,” I panted. I was too out of shape to be jumping in front of street sweepers and pushing old men out of the way. 

“I must repay you,” the man said. “I’m a zoo keeper of sorts, you see. I can give you one of my charges. Any one of them.”

“I can’t,” I replied. I didn’t know what would happen if I brought home a snake or something and it ate my dog.

“I must repay you,” the man repeated, sounding more desperate. “You need to understand. I’m honor-bound. I live by a strict code.”

I stared at the man, contemplating leaving him and his honor. But I was also trying to decide where to keep my new pet tiger.

“My charges are… exotic,” the man continued. “I have snakes as big as trains, vampires, mummies, sasquatches, werewolves…”

“You have a werewolf?” I asked.

“Yes,” the man said, smiling. “I have one.”


I came home at one, having left work early. I walked into my house. Jimmy was on the couch in my den, wearing a white tee-shirt and boxer shorts, eating a salad bowl full of Froot Loops, milk dripping down his chin. My dog, a Yorkie named Captain Morgan, sat next to him, his head resting on Jimmy’s leg. I swear that dog likes him more than me now. Maybe it’s a species thing.

“I thought I’d find you here,” I said. “So no luck finding a job yet?”

“Unless you got a degree you can loan me, Pete,” Jimmy said, staring at whatever generic judge show passed for daytime TV. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I’m going to my mother’s birthday party tonight,” I replied. “I told you last week.”

“So I got the house to myself?” Jimmy asked, finally looking away from the TV.

“No parties,” I said sternly.

“It’s just a few friends for cards,” Jimmy whined. “Five guys, tops.”

I sighed. “You guys trashed my house last time. You staying here is starting to become a hassle, Jimmy.”

“Oh,” Jimmy said, dropping the spoon into the bowl. “Well if you want me to go back to mister Dimitrivich and insult his honor to his face…”

“Fine,” I said. “But please keep the place clean.”

Jimmy smiled slyly, going back to judge what’s his face and the bowl of Froot Loops. I thought having a werewolf would be so cool. I don’t know what I expected. I always liked werewolves and the mythos surrounding them. I hadn’t even seen Jimmy turn into a wolf. He left and hung out in the woods privately on the nights of the full moon. He’d return in the morning, leaving his torn, dirty clothes on the bathroom floor.

“I need to get ready to go,” I said, walking out of my den.

“Pick me up some Skoal!” Jimmy called as I walked away.

“Right,” I muttered. “Living with a werewolf is bullshit.”

-Budgie Bigelow


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