"Aw crap," Wayne said as he pulled his car over and got out. Everywhere he looked people were floating up into the sky. "I think the Rapture is happening."

"Oh, is it?" Zoltan said from the passenger seat as he looked up from reading his Book of Shadows. "Well, good. Obviously the two of us aren't going anywhere and the world's too crowded anyway. Too many morons. Maybe now there'll be shorter lines at the grocery store checkout."

"Yeah, but those morons are my food," Wayne said. "I'm a werewolf, remember? What am I supposed to eat if there aren't a bunch of dumb humans around to feast on?"

"Have you considered going vegan? I swear I've lost fifty pounds and I have a lot more energy since I made the switch."

"Go Vegan?" Wayne recoiled in horror. "That sounds like absolute torture."

"Tut tut," Zoltan responded. "As Friedrich Nietzsche said, that which doesn't kill us makes us stronger."

"I somehow doubt that tofu is going to make me as strong as fresh raw meat," Wayne said. "And besides, what are you going to do about making your sacrifices to your Dark Master? The Rapture claims 100% of the goody-two-shoes types. Surely all of the virgins are sailing straight into heaven as we speak."

"Son of a bitch," Zoltan sputtered. "You're right! This is a travesty! Hang on a minute." He pulled out his crystal ball and waved his hand over it. "I'm going to try to get someone from the spirit world on the line and see if they can explain who or what allowed this to happen."

"While you do that I'm going to see if I can snag myself one of those low-hangers," Wayne said. "Some of those people haven't risen very high yet and I think I can catch 'em. This might be my last opportunity to feast for a while."

Wayne wolfed out, let out a snarl, and leapt with all his might. He hooked an eight year old choirboy by the ankle and dragged him back to the ground whereupon he ripped him open with his claws and gorged upon the child's entrails.

"Mmm," Wayne said as he sucked the last bits of flesh, blood, and ichor from his fingers. "Younglings are the most delicious. You can literally taste the innocence."

"Not going to be much innocence in supply shortly," Zoltan said.

"You're right. I'd better get another while the getting's good." Wayne howled and leapt into the air bringing down a kindly old grandmother who he promptly tore to shreds.

"Ugh, that one was gristly. I don't think I could eat another bite right now anyway. Say, you get to the bottom of this business yet or what?"

"I've reached the spirit world but they put me on hold," Zoltan said as the dulcet tones of John Tesh muzak played from the crystal ball. Soon it was replaced by Kenny G.

"For the love of Lucifer, I can't listen to that crap," Wayne said. "Why don't we just take a journey down to Hell and see if we can get an audience with Beelzebub. Maybe he can explain what the hell is going on. Heh heh, did you catch that? I said 'what the hell' is going on and we're going to Hell. Pretty clever play of words, don't you think?"

"The absolute pinnacle of wit," Zoltan said. "Are you sure you want to go to Hell? As Winston Churchill once said, if you're going through hell keep going."

"But we're hell spawn," Wayne said. "We're denizens of the night. We belong there. Besides, if I have to endure another second of this god awful hold music I'm going to claw my ears out."

"You realize elevator music is all they play in Hell, right? It's part of the whole eternal torture thing."

"Oh, crikey," Wayne sighed. "At least we can try to talk to someone in person and not sit endlessly on hold. Come on. Pull out your book of spells and whip us a portal into Hell already."

"I'll have you know I can't just use any old ordinary spell book for something like that," Zoltan said. "This calls for the Witch's Bible!"

"I don't really care how you accomplish it, Zoltan. Just do it!"

"Okay, okay, don't rush me. Let me see... If I make the sign of the Ram and utter a few choice incantations, I ought to be able to open a portal momentarily." Zoltan stepped out of the car and waved his fingers around in the air as he mumbled some sort of mumbo-jumbo.

There was a shimmering in the air followed by a crackling sound as the very fabric of reality tore open. Soon a glowing red gateway stood by the side of the road. The smell of sulfur and brimstone wafted out of it.

"That ought to do it," Zoltan wiped his hands on his robes. "Well, shall we go to Hell?"

"Hang on, I think I see some meat still on that little kid's bones. I'm going to grab it for later."

Once Wayne had retrieved his tasty morsel they entered the portal.

There was a rumbling sound and it felt like their bodies completely dissolved before reassembling somewhere else entirely.

They were in a flat grassy meadow. It was nighttime, but there was no moon to be seen anywhere. And it was quiet. Too quiet.

"This isn't how I remember Hell," Zoltan said as he scratched his head.

"I smell something nearby," Wayne sniffed at the air. "Another werewolf. Off to the right about a hundred yards away."

They walked in the direction Wayne indicated until they found a wolfman bent over picking some kind of plant.

"You there!" Zoltan shouted. "Tell us where we are! And in Mephisto's name, what are you doing?"

"Who, me?" the wolfman said as he looked up from his endeavors. "Why, I am merely gathering catnip for our feline overlords."

"What the-?" Wayne sputtered. "Feline overlords? What are you talking about?"

"They demand that we each bring them five hundred bushels of nip each night. Then we will engage in a lengthy session of ear scratching and belly pats. The kitty cats must have their tummies rubbed. My name's Warren, by the way. Nice to meet you."

"Oh, jeez," Wayne said. "I am sincerely embarrassed on your behalf. Get some freaking dignity, man."

"Something doesn't seem right here," Zoltan said.

"You're telling me!" Wayne agreed. "This guy is bending over backwards for a bunch of mangy cats! I don't know where you sent us, but-"

He stopped mid sentence and covered both ears with a grimace of pain on his face. Warren dropped his basket of catnip and did the same thing. After a moment they both recovered.

"What was that about?" Zoltan asked.

"Someone blasted a dog whistle," Wayne said. "It sounded like it was coming through about a million loudspeakers. Still better than Yanni, though."

"Dog whistles through loudspeakers?" Zoltan stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"Oh yes,"" Warren smiled. "That happens at irregular intervals. Never know when it's going to happen. Keeps us on our toes, it does. I will say I prefer that to the random blasts of silver bullets that come unexpectedly out of nowhere."

"Uh, Wayne?" Zoltan said. "I think I might have made a slight error in my incantations. Instead of regular Hell, I think I sent us to Werewolf Hell."

"What is Werewolf Hell?" Wayne asked.

"A dimension designed specifically to torment werewolves."

"Uh oh, we'd better get out of here," Warren said. "The rolled-up newspaper wielding robots are headed this way. Trust me, you do not want to get swatted with one of those."

"Rolled up newspapers? I hate those things. Let's get out of here!" Wayne ran a few steps and then tripped over an exposed tree root. "Ouch! What the hell, man? Why is it so dark around here? I can't see anything!"

"Yeah, you know how a werewolf's favorite time is the full moon?" Warren said. "It's always the opposite of that around here. New moons all the time. When lycanthropes are at their weakest. Some of our weaker brethren who still require full moons to change are permanently stuck in their puny human forms."

"Those poor bastards," Wayne said.

"All right, well, it's been nice chatting, but I need to go get in my crate so I can go to my mandatory seventy-ninth vet visit of the day. And you better believe there will be rectal thermometers involved. And lots and lots of rabies shots. But that's okay. It works up the old appetite for the plain salad they serve for every meal here."

"This place is terrible," Wayne said, grabbing Zoltan by the front of the robes. "You've gotta get me out of here!"

"All right, all right!" Zoltan said. "Give me a minute! Opening that portal drained most of my magic reserves."

"Hurry it up will ya?" Wayne scratched his fur vigorously. "Oh man, I think I've become infested with fleas."

"I think I've got enough magical juice left in the tank to open one more portal, but I don't know exactly where it's going to take us. Precision takes a lot of energy and concentration and I'm in short supply of both."

"I don't care, just do it!" Wayne shouted.

"Okay," Zoltan said as he waved his hands around and uttered another incantation.

An orange light appeared in front of them and Wayne wasted no time rushing through it. Zoltan followed after.

Once again their bodies dissolved and reassembled in a new place.

It was once again dark, but they seemed to be inside some sort of giant tent. Zoltan shuffled his feet and something popped beneath them.

"What was that?" Wayne asked.

"I think I stepped on a balloon. Yes, there are balloons all around us. They appear to be shaped like animals."

Suddenly a spotlight fell on them and loud calliope music started playing. A tiny little car puttered up out of nowhere and hundreds of freaks with painted faces and big colorful wigs started pouring out. Their clothes were also colorful and dominated by polka-dots and their shoes were oversized. Many of them sported red rubber noses.

One of them ran up and held a flower in Wayne's face, which squirted water all over him. Then another one followed behind him and slammed a pie in his face. Wayne tried to disembowel the next one that came along, but his claws bounced harmlessly off the weirdo's abdomen.

"Zoltan? What sort of nightmare dimension have you sent us to now?"

"I'm not sure. We've definitely left Werewolf Hell. Now I think we might be in Clown Heaven."

The circus music grew even louder as three more tiny cars pulled up and more clowns started getting out. One of them bobbed Wayne on the head with an oversized rubber mallet and then ran off.

"This is the worst place we've been to yet. Can we go back to Werewolf Hell?"

"I'm afraid my magical reserves have run dry," Zoltan said. "If we're going to get out of here we're going to have to do it on foot."

But it turned out there was no end to Clown Heaven. They walked for ten millennia and all they ever encountered were seltzer bottle wielding freaks with painted on smiles, large rainbow afro wigs, and a penchant for hosting birthday parties.

As Wayne and Zoltan slowly went insane they finally concluded that perhaps they had successfully made it to Hell after all. They never did get to talk to anyone in charge or find out why any of it was happening.

But then, nobody ever said you were owed an explanation for how you were forced to spend eternity.