Trapped! In the Body of a White Wolf

So there I was, belly full of popcorn and an increasing amount of hot sauce. In the same way that the earth feels a quake coming, so did I start to sense the rumblings of something very bad indeed on its way. This feeling grew and grew until it finally made me stop eating and start to worry. "Uh, guys... I'm not feeling so good... do you think you could help me out here?"

So Naughty Nix and the Skook came over and each took one side of me, trying to heave my corpulent corpus out from behind the counter and into the more capacious space of the theater lobby, where I could begin to roll myself out of there and to safety. Not safety for me, mind you, but for everyone else.

Because here's the thing: I don't mind exploding. In fact, it feels kind of good; it's a release. It's really tension-reducing to have your component molecules free themselves once in a while for a little jaunt around the universe, taking in the sights, stretching their legs... or, whatever it is they have that provides mobility. Eventually they decide they miss each other and come back together to resume their normal function.

However, exploding in public does affect the minds of the humans around me. There's a sort of psychic disturbance that occurs... folks begin to feel as though they all suddenly have heads full of cotton wool; unable to think properly, or enjoy themselves, or communicate with their friends. Eventually the residue from these explosions does drain away, but it takes a while, and those affected don't feel right for about a week afterward. This is something to be avoided if at all possible.

So I wanted to get out of there, where I could fly apart in relative safety -- 'cause I knew it was coming. I didn't yet know that it was the Skook's fault. I thought he was grinning like that because he thought it was funny that I was about to explode; that's his sort of humor, you see, and I was used to seeing him with that look on his face most of the time, so I thought nothing of it.

The trouble was, I was stuck! I'd eaten so much popcorn that I was well-wedged behind the counter, unmovable. This was really bad... I began to notice that theater employees who walked through me began to get uncomfortable looks on their faces as they did... almost as though they were experiencing sympathy pains. Which, of course, they were. It was time to do something drastic.

L. Ron Hubbard was a science fiction protegé
He couldn't stand to see his royalties get taxed away
Now big celebs are walking 'round who think he's Jesus
What would David Koresh say?
-- "Top Dollar Survivalist Hardware", The Loud Family