Bad Werewolf Puns
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25 Mar 2019
When Joe Mazzello was five years old, his grandfather pulled him away from playing with a few local children in the garden, to give him a present. Even though it wasn't his birthday.
It was an old leather necklace with a real silver bullet hanging in the center as a makeshift pendant.
"This belonged to my father, grandfather and his father before him. It has been passed down in The Valet Family for generations and now it's all yours."
It hung heavy, dipping into his shirt where no one else could see. But he slowly tugged it back out again and examined it more closely. There were words carved into the side of the cool metal, an old sort of fancy cursive. It took a little more time but he was able to decipher the text:
"The strength of the pack is the wolf and the strength of the wolf is the pack." He read clumsily under his breath, stumbling over a few words, but Grandpa heard it all anyway.
"Exactly, pup. Exactly. Rudyard Kipling wrote that."
"What does it mean, Grandpa?" He asked, sliding his small hand into his grandfather's as they walked.
"You'll understand when you're older."
His grandfather was killed in a "hunting accident" the next day.