The lupine-lunar proximity coefficient. So you've dubbed the constant that drives your condition--the distance you must maintain from a moon in order to keep your condition at bay.
This piece is playful brain candy. Cognitive science loves it because every line tricks prediction: formal math talk (“lupine-lunar proximity coefficient”) suddenly collides with slapstick needs (“wet wipes”). The brain smiles at the mismatch, holding tension between cosmic law and bathroom humor. That delay, that stall, keeps dopamine trickling. And so we laugh, we nod, we grin :)))
It’s clever. You’ve taken the old werewolf trope, launched it into orbit, and stitched in just enough absurd practicality that it works. The “lupine-lunar proximity coefficient” is such a deadpan pseudo-science phrase that it makes the ridiculous premise sound like aerospace engineering. That’s the best kind of satire, when the silly thing gets delivered with the seriousness of a NASA mission briefing.
What really clicks is the push-pull between horror tension and retail banality. The protagonist’s body is starting to betray him, sweat and fur edging in, while he’s stuck negotiating with a yokel who thinks “wet wipes” are the cutting edge of containment strategy. That gap between existential crisis and consumer frustration is where the comedy lives, and you’re mining it well.
If anything, the one risk is pacing. Right now it leans a little heavy on dialogue that circles the same beats (“I’m a werewolf,” “Never heard of it”), so the tension could sharpen faster if you trimmed a repeat or escalated the dealer’s disbelief into something more revealing, like he’s seen weirder, or he tries to upsell a “moon insurance package.” But the closing line, “We just sell spaceships here” is spot-on, a perfect brick wall of mundanity to smack into after all that cosmic dread.
So, verdict: it’s funny, atmospheric, and has teeth. It just might bite harder if the dealer pushed back more unexpectedly? Instead of being the straight man the whole time.
This has a “if Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy became a Werewolf horror movie” vibe. I love it 😂
High praise! Thank you so much :)
I would absolutely watch the sitcom where every episode is this guy just trying to buy basic goods without accidentally mauling someone
That's a good idea! I may have to explore that...
Thanks for tuning in!
Poor guy just wants to sell a spaceship 🥲
I'm sure everything's gonna work out for him in the end lol
Tiny review time :)))
This piece is playful brain candy. Cognitive science loves it because every line tricks prediction: formal math talk (“lupine-lunar proximity coefficient”) suddenly collides with slapstick needs (“wet wipes”). The brain smiles at the mismatch, holding tension between cosmic law and bathroom humor. That delay, that stall, keeps dopamine trickling. And so we laugh, we nod, we grin :)))
Thanks, Pedro! I appreciate you :)
Wet wipes 😂
Space traveler and anxious werewolf more MORE.
On it! ❤️
Wet wipes! Poor guy.
Yeah, Wet Wipes feel kind of like a hail mary—in this situation and others
This would be an amazing longer form tale… (loved this, too… just saying, as a concept it could also really flourish) 🖤
Thank you so much! Yeah, I may have to explore this idea further. I appreciate you!
🖤
Bahahahaha! "Wet wipes, then? Any wet wipes?" … hysterical 😂
Thank you so much! Appreciate you :)
Certainly a twist on the genre lol
It’s clever. You’ve taken the old werewolf trope, launched it into orbit, and stitched in just enough absurd practicality that it works. The “lupine-lunar proximity coefficient” is such a deadpan pseudo-science phrase that it makes the ridiculous premise sound like aerospace engineering. That’s the best kind of satire, when the silly thing gets delivered with the seriousness of a NASA mission briefing.
What really clicks is the push-pull between horror tension and retail banality. The protagonist’s body is starting to betray him, sweat and fur edging in, while he’s stuck negotiating with a yokel who thinks “wet wipes” are the cutting edge of containment strategy. That gap between existential crisis and consumer frustration is where the comedy lives, and you’re mining it well.
If anything, the one risk is pacing. Right now it leans a little heavy on dialogue that circles the same beats (“I’m a werewolf,” “Never heard of it”), so the tension could sharpen faster if you trimmed a repeat or escalated the dealer’s disbelief into something more revealing, like he’s seen weirder, or he tries to upsell a “moon insurance package.” But the closing line, “We just sell spaceships here” is spot-on, a perfect brick wall of mundanity to smack into after all that cosmic dread.
So, verdict: it’s funny, atmospheric, and has teeth. It just might bite harder if the dealer pushed back more unexpectedly? Instead of being the straight man the whole time.
Thank you so much for reading, and for your feedback! Rock on :)