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Howls for Hire
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! The Curse of the Mummy Dracula is now a huge hit in Romania’s 2007 Film Festival. Thanks, Wolfgang Armada!”
Wolfgang Armada. Scaring you shitless since 1833.
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, nervous 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 besides 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 real wolves are!”
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!”
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! The Curse of the Mummy Dracula is now a huge hit in Romania’s 2007 Film Festival. Thanks, Wolfgang Armada!”
Wolfgang Armada. Scaring you shitless since 1833.
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, nervous 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 besides 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 real wolves are!”
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!”
Pics
The central concept of the story was by far the best aspect about it. A businessman selling werewolves to various other horror figures (including Hollywood) is decidedly amusing, and the different ways Wolfgang tries to branch out is a funny riff on how difficult it is for old businesses to adapt to the times (i.e. Sears or Blockbuster). I also enjoyed how the werewolves have to undergo professional training, like it was a tech position at Google or any other service industry. Apparently, being a vicious creature of the night just doesn’t cut it anymore.
That being said, while the concept is funny, it’s also pretty one-note. Werewolves have to get training, there’s a nerd who’s taking it too seriously, Wolfgang’s expanding into Wall Street…every joke is pretty much what you’d expect. It’s not poorly done per se, but it’s bland enough that it’s hard to be invested. I also thought that the jokes about how modern-day folks don’t find werewolves scary anymore fell flat. You’re seriously telling me that when a vicious animal appeared, the teenagers whipped out their iPhones instead of getting the hell out of there? Besides the fact that the “lol young people do nothing but play with their phones” joke is overdone as hell, the various monsters admit that they kill people all of the time and can get well-known businesses started that deal explicitly with harming people. One would think that such a world would breed a more cautious populace, so trying to put this modern commentary in a world that’d have to fundamentally work different from ours doesn’t work.
In conclusion, the story has a good concept in werewolves as a corporation, but a lot of it doesn’t quite work within the bounds of the world. There’s a potential for a good comedy here, but it needs a little more refining if it’s to work. A good effort nonetheless.
That being said, while the concept is funny, it’s also pretty one-note. Werewolves have to get training, there’s a nerd who’s taking it too seriously, Wolfgang’s expanding into Wall Street…every joke is pretty much what you’d expect. It’s not poorly done per se, but it’s bland enough that it’s hard to be invested. I also thought that the jokes about how modern-day folks don’t find werewolves scary anymore fell flat. You’re seriously telling me that when a vicious animal appeared, the teenagers whipped out their iPhones instead of getting the hell out of there? Besides the fact that the “lol young people do nothing but play with their phones” joke is overdone as hell, the various monsters admit that they kill people all of the time and can get well-known businesses started that deal explicitly with harming people. One would think that such a world would breed a more cautious populace, so trying to put this modern commentary in a world that’d have to fundamentally work different from ours doesn’t work.
In conclusion, the story has a good concept in werewolves as a corporation, but a lot of it doesn’t quite work within the bounds of the world. There’s a potential for a good comedy here, but it needs a little more refining if it’s to work. A good effort nonetheless.
Heh. I got a good chuckle out of this.
I'm not sure there's room in a minific for much more than one note of comedy. I wouldn't say this story is amazing but the clearly absurdist setting managed to cleanly avoid any concerns over realism for me.
I think the last section could have used a bit more humor. It was a nice element of closure to the story, but it didn't match the humorous tone of absurdism that the rest of the story had.
Overall, I found it enjoyable. It's also the only story I've read so far that made a lick of sense. As Mongris so wisely put it, "AWOOOOOOOOO!"
I'm not sure there's room in a minific for much more than one note of comedy. I wouldn't say this story is amazing but the clearly absurdist setting managed to cleanly avoid any concerns over realism for me.
I think the last section could have used a bit more humor. It was a nice element of closure to the story, but it didn't match the humorous tone of absurdism that the rest of the story had.
Overall, I found it enjoyable. It's also the only story I've read so far that made a lick of sense. As Mongris so wisely put it, "AWOOOOOOOOO!"
Yeah—don’t take it bad, author, but I’m pretty impervious to this sort of humor. It’s too on the nose for me. Names, for example, sounded pretty lame to me.
The end is pretty much a tone mismatch, unless I’m not getting something obvious.
So the story left me pretty much unconcerned. Once again, I apologize. As the other comments vindicate, this is a purely personal feeling. It’s just that you pushed the wrong button, so don’t bang your head too much.
The end is pretty much a tone mismatch, unless I’m not getting something obvious.
So the story left me pretty much unconcerned. Once again, I apologize. As the other comments vindicate, this is a purely personal feeling. It’s just that you pushed the wrong button, so don’t bang your head too much.
