Did you pay two million for a Transylvanian castle, only to find it had no ambiance? Trying to give the local peasants the classical scare treatment, but don’t know how? Poodles just not cutting it for you?

Then you need Wolfgang Armada, Howls for Hire! Shout it to the rooftops!

Established in 1833, Wolfgang Armada defined the authentic horror experience of a generation. Founded by Wolfgang the Impaler in the backyard of his humble little Russian village, Wolfgang Mongris worked his fur off trying to find the right amount of pitch, treble, and aftersound to give the resident farmhands maximum pants-wetting nightmares.

Here’s just a sample of the simple horror our armada can deliver:

Vlad the Cad said, “Before I hired Fanguine, I had hardly any buxom young ladies in nightdresses come to my manor. But with the right howl from my trusty terror, now I can advertise my home as the genuine gothic experience. I’m ripping bodices off every night! Thanks, Wolfgang Armada!”

Count Spharynx of Pharynx said, “Visitors always complained about the crumbling towers and draughty bed chambers before I sucked their blood. But now I have wolves on the premises, everyone suddenly wants one, even though they don’t live long enough to call you! Thanks, Wolfgang Armada!”

Bludvort von Bladderwort said, “I was filming a Hammer Horror tribute when I thought to myself: ‘What is this missing?’ And lo, the answer came to me! Howling wolves! [i]The Curse of the Mummy Dracula[/i] is now a huge hit in Romania’s 2007 Film Festival. Thanks, Wolfgang Armada!”

Wolfgang Armada. Scaring you shitless since 1833.

[hr]

Wolfgang Mongris, CEO of Wolfgang Armada, switched off the infomercial and adjusted his tie.

“Yes, well,” he said to the class assembled before him. “Obviously, we’ve branched out a bit over the years.”

One of the applicants near the front scratched an ear loudly.

“Even werewolves have to move with the times,” he continued, striding between the chairs and eyeing up the fidgeting, coughing, scratching, [i]nervous[/i] rows of faces. “Now your average adult doesn’t have a heart attack every time they hear howls in the dark. Last wolf who tried that just got a bunch of teenagers following him with iPhones. Can anyone tell me why?”

A shaky paw rose up at the back. Mongris sighed. It had been the same paw for the last twelve questions.

“Yes, van Riptide?”

“Urbanisation, sir!”

“Exactly. City folk aren’t superstitious like the country folk used to be. The scariest thing they hear won’t be AWOOOOOOOOO!” Several nearby students flinched, a sight which warmed the cockles of Mongris’s cynical heart. “Who can tell me what the scariest thing they hear is?”

A shaky paw rose up at the back again.

“Who else [i]besides[/i] van Riptide?”

The shaky paw went down again.

Eventually, Mongris pointed at a random applicant. “You. Silver Sickle. What’s the scariest thing a city adult hears now?”

“Um…”

“Come on, chop chop!”

“Um… uh… Is it ‘We’re calling about your recent credit card transaction?’”

“Or…?”

“‘Your bank account has been overdrawn?’”

“Or…?”

“Or… ‘We regret to inform you that your car insurance is illegally documented.’”

“Good girl. Have a doggie biscuit.”

He threw one over and strode to the front of the class, adjusting his cuffs. The suit hadn’t come cheap.

“And that’s how my lifelong company stays on top of things! We adapt! Wolfgang Armada researches new forms of horror to exploit. So when you get to those call centres, I want you to be creative. Our vampire employers want new forms of terror to attract customers to their bloodsucking loan shark services. Bring them in droves, my friends! Sell them any story! Now, testing time: Go into the phone booths. Scare some saps! We’ll show Wall Street who the [i]real[/i] wolves are!”

[hr]

In 2017, Wolfgang Armada filed for bankruptcy under Chapter 11.

Originally relocating its HQ to the United States, it initially favoured the rural states of the Mid-west before focusing on lucrative openings in New York. Muddled leadership, lack of organizational focus, and several bizarre business scandals brought the company into conflict with its many creditors.

As of 2018, Wolfgang Armada is now out of business.

To recoup his losses, CEO Wolfgang Mongris temporarily moved to Hollywood, consulting on various vampire-werewolf horror films. He complains that “they’re not a patch on the golden oldies”. He also announced future plans in politics alongside Vlad “the Cad” Dragulovich.

“Old skills, new packaging,” Wolfgang told reporters. “‘Alerting’ people to ‘hunger-satisfying’ services? A timeless tactic!”