The Annual United States Lycanthropic Party Convention

For the July prompt call:  Scales, fur and feathers.

“I’m here for the convention?” Basil asked, adjusting his wire-frame glasses.

The hotel was nice, upscale, with a modern water feature taking up most of the lobby. It was in a terrible part of town in a terrible city, but it’s not like he was here for the scenery.

The girl at the counter, his age, cute, with her hair in cornrows, grinned at him.

“Yeah, you want the third door on the end. Everyone’s in there now. Name?”

“Basil Smith.”

“Well, sir, here is your information packet and your ID badge. Shuttle information is in the folder. Enjoy the convention.”


The attendees were mostly white, mostly male, and loud. Basil hung back near the door, trying to figure out where to start.

It was decided for him when one of the attendees, a bearded white man wearing a leather jacket, snarled at a female attendee wearing a short red dress and sprang upon her, raking her with his nails. He had her pinned to the floor, claws digging into her shoulders, teeth at her throat, and Basil took great pleasure in the way he froze when Basil clicked the safety off his gun behind him.

“Sir,” Basil said calmly. “What you are doing is illegal. Let the lady go, and I won’t have to make a mess in here.”

“She challenged me, and you’re interfering.”

“Challenges are illegal at the annual United States Lycanthropic Party convention, sir,” Basil said. “It’s in the briefing packet, along with the information that there will be federal agents present to enforce the law. Agent Basil Smith, at your service. Your name?”

The man stood, teeth and claws still long and snarling.

“A human’s allowed in here?”

“Lycanthropes are defined as human according to LARA statute 1.5.2.”

“I could use an apology, asshole,” said the woman in the red dress, brushing herself off. “I liked this dress.”

Simon took the opportunity to fade back into the crowd.

“Can’t believe they let a human in here,” he could hear the werewolf muttering behind him. Basil saw no reason to clarify – his ability to turn into a parakeet really wasn’t relevant to his work today anyway.