The Birth of Wulfric Maximillian

Six months ago, a total nobody walked up to the “Chateau Chapeau” on 8866 Spotlight Hills - the largest mansion in Canvasville's most affluent gated community. This total nobody was Theta, a burly, red-eyed grey wolf with barely any credentials to his name. Lucky for him, Theta caught the eye of the household's owner, Hubert J. Forric - the world's richest director, composer and largest human to have ever been stuffed into a tuxedo and fedora. Through Hugh's apprenticeship, the wolf slowly transformed from an obedient, ignorant follower into a commanding “well-rounded gentleman”. Many would have considered the canine to be an intellectual lost cause, but under Hugh's luxurious environment, Theta thrived as he was tutored in manners, culture, music, and most importantly – the greatest, most pleasurable of life philosophies.

It was the middle of December on a cold, overcast day, and at by half-past-four, the sun was beginning to set. The mansion's walls were impervious to the cold, especially the pocket of warmth in Hugh's private study, a windowless, carpeted room with an office desk space on one end, and a roaring fireplace on the other end. The study was lined with shelves stuffed with thick books, only interrupted by a wall-mounted large screen television. In the middle of the room, Theta and Hugh lounged on an L-shaped comfy black couch in front of a glass coffee table. An empty teapot, cups and many crumb-filled plates sat upon the table, intending to tide the insatiable duo until dinner, but were devoured almost an hour ago. With nothing else to do, both of the round, greyscaled gentleman were engrossed in reading, biding their time until the clock struck six. Hugh was staring at a tablet, his glasses reflecting the white light of a business article. The man's study contained thousands of pages of the world's greatest minds, yet the wide-waisted wolf sitting next to him was perfectly amused by something meant for kindergartners. Theta gleefully held a colourful children's pop-up book in his paws - the cover reading “The Three Little Pigs” in cutesy bubble-letters. A snarling paper wolf rose and fell into the pages as Theta opened and closed the book, making a soft, rhythmic “fwip, fwip, fwip” noise.

Hugh looked over at the distracting noise while another article loaded on the tablet's screen. “Theta, I thought you graduated from those early-reader books”, he said.

Theta's head rose up from the paper wonderland. “I did, Boss. I'm just appreciatin' the art is all.”

“I suppose it has an endearing charm to it”, Hugh relented. He looked back down at his tablet's screen. The new article's headline was puzzling, and the more Hugh read, the more his face contorted into confusion.

“Yeah, and it's probably better than what you're lookin' at, huh?”, Theta joked.

“Hmph,” the man grunted with a slight smile. “How'd you know?”

Theta grinned, humans are really oblivious. “Just a hunch. What are ya reading anyway?”, he asked.

Hugh sighed and tapped at the tablet's screen. “An environmental article. Canvasville banks are now refusing to loan money for the coal and oil industries.”

The coal-coloured canine cocked his head and stared blankly. Not like Hugh could see it, as he was too fixated on the screen.

Hugh looked up from his tablet, slightly enraged. “I can appreciate Mayor Willow's strive for progress, but it isn't like the Earth has been totally depleted of fossil fuels yet. There's still money to be had!”, he said, gesturing wildly to Theta. “Nobody's ready to pay for electric cars, solar panels and wind turbines just yet!” Anger building, the portly philanthropist pointed triumphantly towards the ceiling. “I have half a mind to march down to the Green House right now and-...”

Theta raised one paw from his book defensively. “Hey, hey, Boss. Take it easy, remember your blood pressure...” Theta paused for a moment, then held his head up high, preparing to quote a pearl of wisdom from his pudgy partner. “A gentleman never makes a weighty decision when incensed”, the wolf stated in the best Transatlantic accent he could muster.

The rotund man's rage subsided instantly from Theta's statement. “Looks like I've taught my apprentice well”, he said.

The wolf nodded. To be honest, Theta didn't really agree with Hugh's stance on environmentalism, but at least he bought a little time before his partner did anything too rash. “Yeah, the both of us can yell at that little shrub later”, he said, turning back to his pop-up book. “For now, we can just appreciate the finer things in life.”

Hugh watched for a moment as Theta made the paper wolf rise and fall again. “I'm afraid it would take more than that little papercraft to take my mind off of things...”, he said.

Theta turned to the mansion's master with a glint in his eye and a devilish grin on his face. “I bet Wulfric Maximillian would like it, boss.”

Hugh immediately turned away from the chubby canine and buried his nose into his tablet.

Theta's could feel Hugh's weakness and embarrassment, spurring some of the wolf's predatory nature to come out. “Don't you agree? Am I wrong?”, he teased through rows of sharp teeth.

“Please don't bring that up again. It was nothing more than a flight of fancy”, Hugh mumbled. “That entire night was a mistake.”

“But it was fun, wasn't it?”

Still looking at the tablet, Hugh let out a sigh of equal parts wistful and irritated. Not even a week ago, the two of them took the elevator down to Hugh's cellar, a place filled with oak barrels of the world's most expensive alcohol. What started in a few glasses ended in Theta and Hugh guzzling down years worth of stockpiled brew, depleting the entire cellar in one night. With swollen bodies and sloshing beer guts, Hugh revealed cracks in his impenetrable narcissism. Truthfully, the powerful man frequently felt isolated and depressed at the top of the world – forever caught in a battle between his civility, and the overwhelming desire to consume. Theta slurred his way through a possible solution: Hugh would form an alternate identity, using the transformation talents of his inkblot body. “Wulfric Maximillian” would only be a temporary wolf form for whenever Hugh wanted to express his unconventional hedonism freely in a society that shunned such greed. This form, and only this form would best suit this alpha male leader over his army of Watchdogs.

“C'moooon, admit it. You had fun, didn't ya?”, Theta said in a slight sing-song.

“I can't believe you talked me into it”, the rich man relented. He reflected on what little he remembered in that hedonistic haze, then turned to the tubby wolf. “The hangover wasn't fun, though”, Hugh stated flatly.

The canine chuckled, that was totally an affirmative in Hugh-speak. “So, have you been workin' on it?”, he asked.

“On what?”

“The shape-shifting and transforming and junk.”

Hugh averted his gaze. “Ohh... I can't do it.”, he admitted with a hint of shame in his voice. “I mean, I definitely CAN do it, but not right now”, he corrected with a little more bravado. Almost like he was frantically plugging a hole in the dam surrounding his ego.

“Why not, 'right now'?”

Hugh suddenly had a rare bout of nervousness. He looked over to the glass coffee table at a plate of tea biscuits that were devoured ages ago.

Theta leaned forward, sending the pop-up book clattering into the carpet. “I wanna see it right now! Show me, please?”, the wolf pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

The fedora-hatted fat man fidgeted with his tie. “What I meant to say was... I could shape-shift a long time ago. Back when I was a little runt of a lad.”, Hugh said. He set the tablet down on the couch and looked down lovingly at his large body. “But, when everything went a little pear-shaped, well...”, he paused, resting his hands on his belly. “... I guess that's the price I pay for my decadent lifestyle.”

“So, what you're saying is that you're too out of shape to shape-shift, huh?”, Theta questioned. Immediately, he ears perked up with inspiration, “I got an idea!”, he began. “What if you just... lost...”, he trailed off, his ears slowly lowering under Hugh's stare. It was obvious from the fat man's face that neither one of them would enjoy THAT particular solution.

Hugh shrugged. “Don't worry yourself over me, Theta.”, he said behind a small smile. “I was only having a moment. I'm happy the way I am.”

Even with Hugh's muffled “phonograph” voice, Theta could detect with absolute clarity that not all was well with the wealthy gentleman. “I bet you'd be a lot happier if you could turn into Wulfric, though”, he said. “How about you give it a shot?”

“But I can't.”

“Just try.”

Hugh craned his head over the back of the couch to look at the door behind him. Closed and locked with total privacy. He grunted and rose from his seat, taking a moment to smooth out his outfit. “Look, I'll prove to you that I can't transform. And any word of this attempt NEVER leaves this room, understand?”, he demanded. Even in a vulnerable moment, he still stood up proudly between the sofa and coffee table.

Theta nodded tentatively, not really sure what to expect.

The tubby inkblot toon clenched his fists, took a big breath, and closed his eyes. With his face screwed up in concentration, he exhaled and inhaled slowly and rhythmically. Hugh's body wobbled and wavered, the surface rippling and shimmering with the orange glow of the fireplace. Looking like he just walked through a rain shower, the very first droplets of Hugh's ink fell from the brim on his hat, then his nose, hands, waist, and legs followed. As Hugh's silhouette squirmed and sloughed, a dark puddle formed under his feet, being fed by the increasing torrent of white, grey and black ink running down his pants. His breathing became more rapid and laboured, a grimace of determination and concentration gave way to one of pain as he wheezed his way through the ordeal. Suddenly, Hugh moaned and lurched backwards, but immediately caught and righted himself using the couch's armrest.

“Boss!”, Theta cried out, wide-eyed and bristle-furred.

Hugh opened his eyes and looked over at the distressed canine. “Just jelly legs... lost my balance...”, he croaked. He placed one hand on his chest, looking on with the most piteous defeated expression on his sweaty, melting face. “It's not working... is it.”

“No, you can stop!”

The hefty hulk of a man exhaled forcefully and flopped back onto the couch, shaking the entire room and sending spatters of ink flying. The whole attempt took only a minute and a half, but Hugh was exhausted as if he ran the hours-long Canvasville Marathon. Between painful groans and laboured breath, Hugh adjusted his clothing as his partially-melted body reformed and solidified again, the puddle under his feet shrinking as the excess ink was re-absorbed back into him. “I told you I couldn't do it”, he said weakly. Spending a moment to catch his breath, he glanced at Theta with a stern expression. “Now it's over and we wont have to bring it up again.”

The wolf's shock subsided, but he was still fraught with concern. “Your shape-shifting... didn't look right.”

Hugh sighed and reclined into the couch cushion as the remaining parts of his body finally solidified. “It never does.”

“No, I mean... I've seen you shape-shift before”, Theta said, scratching behind one ear. “Your arms do that stretchy thing all the time.”

“It's only a small part of my body.”

“Then what about after dinner? That's our whole bodies!”

Hugh glanced towards the ceiling, deep in thought about his past greed. “That's not really shape-shifting... it's more like keeping shape.”

“Okay, you got me there, but...”, Theta relented. “... but how come I'm just as big as you now, and I can still shape-shift?”

The man snapped back to attention. “With your whole body?”, he asked.

“Totally!”, Theta chirped. “Remember that time you flew to the Big Apple for a few nights? When you came back home, I turned myself into a feral wolf and ran around, jumping up on everything and stuff.”

Truthfully, the man had trouble recollecting things outside of himself. “Oh dear, I was really jetlagged... I remember you licking my face though”, Hugh recalled. “I didn't even notice you were on four legs, I just thought you were being affectionate”, he said, smiling for the first time since his transformation attempt. “How did you turn into that?”

“I don't really know how I did it, to be honest”, Theta shrugged.

Hugh's smile faded. “Oh, well... if YOU don't know how you did it... then I guess there's no hope for me.”

The wolf put his paws up. “No, nonono! That isn't what I meant!”, Theta defended. “I don't know the science behind it, but I can just 'feel' the transformation coming.” The wolf paused for a moment to introspect, “I just remember feelin' it would be funny to pretend to be one of those non-talking dogs... you know, the kind that freak out whenever their masters walk through the door.”, he said.

“So, you just thought about it hard enough, and it happened?”

“You mean I just FELT it hard enough, boss!”, Theta corrected.

“But... how could I NOT feel it hard enough?”, Hugh exclaimed a little too loudly. “I felt the transformation in every fiber of my being! I almost passed out!”

“You don't feel it in your body, you feel it in your heart.”

Hugh crossed his arms and turned away from Theta with an exasperated sigh. The familiar sigh Theta correctly translated as: “I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself for being mad”.

The wolf stared forward at the fireplace, letting Hugh pout for a minute. The fireplace smoldered as much as Hugh, as the massive man wasn't even busying himself with his tablet, preferring to just look off into space. Theta's hopes for Wulfric Maximilian started to fall as he drummed his paws against the couch's armrest.

“I think I understand”, Hugh began in a low voice. “I was trying to get into a character that wasn't right for me”, he said. “Wolves... I like the leadership qualities, and the beautiful mysterious howling, but I can never be as savage as one. Perish the thought!” Hugh exclaimed with a disgusted look. “Like when they thrust their faces into a still-warm prey animal and tear at it's flesh. Or roll around in the dirt.”

Theta wrinkled his nose at such a vivid description. “Ummm, no offense boss, but not all wolves are like that...”, he said, delicately, “... that's like saying all you humans blow each other up with nukes over the dumbest things.”

Hugh looked at the classy canine with startled eyes. He covered his mouth in embarrassment. “My apologies, Theta. Please excuse my ignorance.”

Theta chuckled. “S'allright, I was kinda savage when I first started working here”, he joked in an attempt to alleviate the awkwardness.

“Oh, no, no, no, no! Not at all! From the moment I saw you, I knew you were a wolf of wealth and taste!”

Theta smiled and rolled his eyes, his apprenticeship was more like a big, BIG happy accident. “Do you remember when this outfit was too big and you said I'd grow into it?”, he reminisced while smoothing down his too-tight suit. Wulfric Maximillian was becoming a distant memory now, as Theta couldn't resist the possibility of his ego being stroked.

“My... that wasn't too long ago, was it?”

The couch creaked loudly as the canine suddenly sprang from it. The wide-waisted wolf stood between the fireplace and the coffee table and struck a pose. “It fits me much better now, doesn't it?”, Theta boasted.

“Indeed, it does! I did a fine job in bringing out the well-rounded gentleman inside!”, Hugh cheered. From the glow of the fireplace illuminating Theta's spherical frame, and Hugh's lower point-of-view in his sitting position, the fedora'd man couldn't help but look on in awe of his apprentice. What stood before Hugh was the result of six months of his rigorous “apprenticeship” - a canine spoiled rotten just as much as himself. Theta's custom-fit suit barely covered his amazing bulk, giving another meaning to the term “double-breasted”. A strained, sturdy stream of buttons ran down Theta's dress shirt, to an impressive, overhanging gut. Theta's neck was non-existent, a pair of chins now taking place of the Watchdog neck-collar he used to wear. The canine's head was comically small in comparison to the rest of his body, but he still wore a dignified expression on a muzzle buried deep in his fat, fluffy cheeks. The muscle-bound wolf of six months ago, wearing the white T-shirt was long dead.

Theta struck another pose under Hugh's awestruck stare. “Don't forget 'greatest actor', boss!”, he added.

“Oh, don't even get me started!”, Hugh swooned. “I had the idea for 'Wolfing Down Wall Street' in my mind for decades, and I would never dream of casting anyone else in the lead role!”

“Aw, geez! What's so great about me, huh?”, Theta asked, fishing for more compliments.

“Your classic look reminiscent of the Golden Age of film! Your eye-catching, intimidating silhouette! Your ability to switch between grace and poise to fearsome and aggressive!”, Hugh exclaimed, gesturing wildly.

Theta beamed and wagged his tail, making the room strobe the soft orange light of the fireplace behind him.

“Your final scene, the grand finale is the GREATEST thing I've ever put to film! There will never be a screen large enough to contain it's genius!” Hugh babbled, looking like the star-struck sycophants that crowd around him on a daily basis. “Your visage eclipses the sun, while everyone looks on in horror! The changing expressions on your face once you realize that you just can't stop yourself! Then the inevitable! The powerful, amazing inevitable! Your absolute end to your reign of glory in one spine-tingling moment!”, he shouted, waving his arms for emphasis. He sighed and collapsed back into the couch, staring at the ceiling with a wistful expression - one that the wolf saw a lot on the movie set that screamed “God, I wish that were me”.

Theta found Hugh's enthusiasm irresistible. “Tell me about the movie's... uh... metaphor thing about capitalism again!”, he prodded, determined to get even more praise from the portly director.

The large man launched into the most self-aggrandizing summary, blathering on and on about the awards he would receive for taking the concept of a greedy, extreme “market saturation” to such a literal conclusion. Curiously, his nose appeared to drip with ink and distort again, forming a soft, shiny black ball right between his eyes, pushing up the man's eyeglasses. Hugh didn't even notice the change, nor Theta's gobsmacked expression, but he continued on, still sinking in his abyssal ego. When he started his speech about the prizes and punishments of capitalism, specks of white swirled about in his grey hair like the milk in his expensive morning coffee.

“Boss?!”, Theta called, his tail fluffed out in surprise.

Hugh's hair turned completely white. “... Would it be fair to say that your character met a happy end?”, the gushing gentleman continued. “Can you really achieve a state of nirvana when you, the extreme capitalist, demand more and more and more and-...”

“Hey! Boss!"

“... more and m-more and more and... and MORE AND EVEN MORE?!?”, the chubby man chanted from the quagmires of his own greed.

“BOSS!!!”

Hugh snapped back to attention. “P-pardon me?!?”, he said, staring at Theta with messed hair, crazed eyes and a tiny bit of drool running from his mouth. Hugh's new, black nose began to deform and shrink, the white in his hair receding along with it.

“Your face! Look at your face! Quick!”

The heavy-set human stuck one hand in the hammerspace behind his back, fumbling around in a panic as his fresh new features disappeared. He pulled out a gold, clam-shell pocket mirror, opening it up to see his very normal, very disheveled face.

Theta's ears drooped. Just a moment too late.

“Oh, dear...”, Hugh mumbled, fixing his hair and wiping the drool on his sleeve. “Thank you for reigning me in, sport.”

“I... uh... you're welcome”, Theta recited through his confusion.

Hugh snapped the clam-shell mirror shut and shoved it behind his back. “Heavens, I must have looked a ghastly sight!”, he exclaimed.

“Y-yeah, you sure did...”, the dark-coloured canine chuckled nervously, debating on telling Hugh about the brief glimpse of Wulfric's features. It didn't seem worth bringing up, as his boss' heart would break at the thought of coming so close only to fail. Instead, Theta resigned himself to waddle back to the couch and sit down. The ego-trip was over for now, as Hugh was too distracted by an antique analog clock on the wall.

“Sorry, Theta. I get rather passionate this time of day”, Hugh stated, with his head in the clouds.

Theta scowled at the clock and it's swinging pendulum. It was over an hour until the six long chimes signaled the end of a hard day of being the one percent. As the maddening, rhythmic ticking continued, an uncomfortable silence fell over the two titanic tyrants. As the wolf watched the clock, he could hear the faint, familiar sound of fabric rubbing fabric. Theta didn't have to look to know that Hugh was stroking his stomach in a futile attempt to stop his gluttonous urges. Finally, just as the clock's hand completed an entire revolution, Theta hefted himself up from the sofa and headed for the study's exit.

“Where are you going?”, asked Hugh.

Theta turned the doorknob and opened it a crack. “Just headin' out for a walk, boss.”

“You're not 'sneaking' again, are you?”

“Me? Ha! I wouldn't dream of it!”, Theta replied, wearing a wide smile.

Hugh raised an eyebrow.

“C'mon boss, it was only one time! I'm not sneaking again, I promise!”

“Good, because you'll spoil your appetite.”, the man stated with a patriarchal air. “Carry on, then.”

With a devilish idea percolating in his brain, Theta left the study and rode the elevator down to the first floor. Against Hugh's wishes, the wide wolf waddled through the foyer, heading straight to the main kitchen. A wall of sweet and savory aromas assaulted the wolf's nostrils, and he couldn't help but pant excitedly as he came up to the kitchen's double-doors.

When it came to gluttony, Hugh's huge dining room was ground zero, and his huge kitchen was the weapons manufacturer. Dozens of purebred anthropomorphic dogs worked tirelessly in chef outfits, crafting decadent foodstuffs with the precision of an assembly line. A Greyhound frantically garnished glasses of sweet tea with thin lemon slices. A Beagle beat eggs while a Maltese mixed chocolate chips into cookie batter. In front of two soup pots, a black Labrador stirred with a ladle in each hand. The Watchdogs barked orders to one another, passing along utensils, ingredients and dishes at a rapid pace. For all they knew, the chefs were cooking for 50 of Hugh's usual “business associates” - if the mansion's master was even a little less demanding, someone would have had the time to figure out that these associates never existed.

When Theta swung open the doors, the clatter and chatter of the kitchen ceased, the assembly line halting in the portly wolf's powerful presence. Even with an hour to go, there was already a few completed dishes, and many, many more in-progress. Theta licked his chops as he surveyed the kitchen, sauntering over to a big serving plate with a silver dome. He lifted the cover off with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning - a perfectly plump, perfectly cooked turkey lay before him. A Pomeranian protested as Theta grabbed the dish, but the puny pup was quickly shut down by the pudgy alpha wolf's paralyzing stare. The wolf waddled off as fast as he could with his stolen prize, a little less stealthily as he would've liked as his dress pants scraped together with every step. Theta was fortunate that the tattletale housekeeping Watchdogs had already left in preparation of Hugh's curfew! Throughout the trip back to Hugh's study, Theta carried the covered dish like a live grenade, fighting the urge to consume it. In the hefty wolf's haste, he punctuated his return to the study with a loud slam of the door.

Startled, Hugh spun around on the couch. He watched Theta plunk the dish down on the top of a chest of drawers. “Why is THAT here?”, Hugh asked, furrowing his brow.

“Why not?”

The tubby man's stomach growled as he continued to simmer.

Theta took the chrome cover off and proudly held up the plate. “Fresh turkey!”, Theta shouted through a soft veil of steam.

Hugh eye's darted to the turkey, then back to Theta. Then to the turkey, then to Theta. Turkey. Theta. “Put that back, that poor bird's not even finished yet. It hasn't fully marinated! It's not seasoned! Where are the decorations?”

Theta looked down at the delectable dish. It did look a little naked. “Well... if you don't want it... may I have it, then?”

“No.”

“C'mooooon!”, Theta whined.

“Theta, with all due respect...”, Hugh started, barely containing his anger. “... this is my house. And in my house, gentleman practice punctuality and restraint. Dinner is at six, no sooner, nor later.”

“Yeah, well, have fun with that”, Theta scoffed. “You're so uptight.”

“Rules are rules. If they weren't, the world would go to the dogs!”

“At least dogs know how to cut loose!”, Theta retorted.

Hugh narrowed his eyes.

Theta ripped off one of the turkey's legs and took a bite out of it. Theta let out a sudden moan of more pleasure than pain – the turkey tasted amazing, yet it was still very hot. The canine's chubby cheeks wobbled as he chewed the moist, cooked meat.

The fat man dug his fingers into the couch in frustration. His hair swirled with white again.

Theta swallowed the savory lump, and eagerly shoved the rest of the drumstick in his mouth. The canine's cheeks ballooned even more with the increased bounty, even putting a paw over his mouth to keep it all in. After a greedy gulp, he pulled a pristine, cleaned leg bone from his teeth and placed it back on the plate.

The round, black dog nose re-formed on Hugh's angry face. “That does it”, Hugh said, getting up from the sofa.

Theta paused in surprise after noticing the return of Wulfric Maximillian's facial features. The conniving canine knew he had to stay the course.

Hugh stomped up to the wolf with brand-new, white footpaws replacing his dress shoes. “You're taking that back to the kitchen this instant!”

Snickering, Theta pulled off the remaining turkey leg. Hugh's big clownish nose didn't do any favours for his intimidation attempt.

“Fine, if you're not going to do it, then hand the bird over to me!”

The canine coveted the drumstick out of reach. “You know, if you're hungry, you can get your OWN food...”

“No!”, Hugh exclaimed. His outburst sent a fluid ripple across his face. A wave of luxurious, white fur erupted like a gust of wind on a wheat field.

“The kitchen's, like, right below us. There's plenty of stuff to pick from”, Theta continued.

The big man balled his hands into fists.“This isn't about the food, this is about manners!”

“Then don't be jealous 'cause I have food and you don't!”

“I'M NOT JEALOUS!!!”, Hugh screamed. An obvious lie as his nose elongated forward to form a beastly muzzle.

Hugh's outburst made the wolf burst out in raucous belly laughter.

“I'M NOT JEALOUS AND STOP EATING THAT!!!” Hugh screamed again, as Theta wiped a tear from his eye.

“Even if you were jealous, I wouldn't blame you. This turkey's fit for a king!”

“YOU ARE NOT KING HERE!!!”, the big man bellowed. As if on cue, his head was crowned with two white wolf ears, sprung from the brim of his fancy fedora.

“It's not a big deal, boss. Go on downstairs and grab a bite!”, Theta scoffed. “Oh, and bring another dish for me too, will ya?”

“Theta, this is MY house, not the movie set! You're no longer the center of attention! You can't order me around like one of your little sycophants!”, ranted the rotund, red-faced man. “I'm not your errand boy! I'm not the catering crew for your astronomical appetite! I'm not the one tossing seafood in your mouth during your musical number!”, Hugh raved as a white feather boa of a tail snaked it's way up his back. “I'm not the tailor for your tuxedo, or the makeup artists powdering your chins!”

“That's cool. I don't care what you are, but I'm hungry!”, Theta stated, totally unfazed. The blustering billionaire was about as frightening as his little otter brother.

Hugh gritted his teeth, as a low, inhuman growl escaped from a mouth of newly-formed steak knives.

Theta smirked at Hugh's nearly-complete transformation. Still, the wolf couldn't help but to take his teasing up a notch, bringing the turkey leg to his mouth and chomping up a huge chunk. Theta closed his eyes in total euphoria as he slowly chewed the meat, only letting out a slight groan as he swallowed his massive mouthful – one that even bulged out his non-existent neck. He sighed in relief and patted his gargantuan gut for emphasis. With his eyes still closed, he put the other half of the turkey leg in his mouth, with only a thick, meaty bone protruding from his blubbery face.

“STOOOOOP!!!”

Theta opened his eyes up just in time to catch a pair of clawed hands with his own. The white canine crashed against him in a fury, dribbling from his mouth as he snarled. Theta's primal instincts took over, and the grey wolf growled back. Fortunately, the impact wasn't too painful as the two of them sported titanic tummies.

With Hugh's arms firmly in Theta's grasp, the white wolf could only lean in and nip at the turkey leg between Theta's teeth. “GIVE ME BACK MY BIRD!!!”

“Mmmrrrmmph!”, Theta moaned through a mouthful of meat. Luckily, Seath built this coal-coloured canine for combat in mind. Theta pushed back against the portly philanthropist and ran towards the couch and coffee table - “ran” may have overestimating, as Theta was using long-dormant muscles buried under months of softness.

Hugh gave chase, with even less co-ordination than Theta. The pair of portly pooches circled the sitting area several times, in the world's tubbiest version of tag. However, Hugh had no chance to catch up, and soon, both wolves were in an snarling staring contest, with only the couch separating them.

Theta smiled from his side of the barrier as he watched the white wolf wheeze and sweat. Now, he could enjoy his meal in peace!

The grey wolf's victory was short-lived. Whether it was by cartoon physics, or through sheer determination, Hugh suddenly leaped forward with his last ounce of strength. Unfortunately, Hugh couldn't clear the sofa with his bumbling body, tumbling both the furniture and himself into the carpet with the force of a wrecking ball. The room thundered under the impact, pausing the pudgy pugilists' fight.

There was a knock at the study's door. “Sir? Mr. Forric? Are you alright in there?”, asked a meek, female Watchdog.

“I'm fine, miss. Go back to your duties.”, Hugh recited. He rose up from the carpet, brushing the dust and lint from his suit. As he preened himself, a spark of his former humanity returned. He held his hand out in front of him, about to ask Theta for a “gentleman's truce”, only to find that Theta wasn't there. Instead, he was over by the chest of drawers, muzzle-deep into the rest of the turkey dish. “You traitorous dog!”, Hugh shrieked.

What followed was two struggling spheres of soot and snow, both pulling the turkey by their muzzles. Their savage tug-of-war began to tear the turkey slowly in half, scattering it's stuffing all over the floor. Growls emanated from their greedy mouthfuls as the bird's flesh ripped and bones cracked.

Theta thrashed his head all around, and with one mighty jerk, he tore his half clean away. The force sent Theta's obese, opulent opponent tumbling one way, and Theta the other way, thudding against the wall behind him. The dark wolf mentally declared himself the winner, as the majority of the turkey was in his mouth. He eagerly munched away at his prize.

“Oh my GOD!!!”, Hugh exclaimed.

Theta looked up from his messy meal, expecting to see an injured wolf. Theta grinned as he saw Hugh staring at himself in one of his many full-length wall mirrors.

Hugh's muzzle was agape, mesmerized at the white wolf before him. He looked down at his fuzzy hands to see soft, black pawpads. He stroked his ears and marshmallow cheeks, with fur as soft and luxurious as a mink's. His pupils followed his swaying tail like a charmed cobra. “I did it...”, Hugh said to the perfect beast in the mirror. “I did it!”

“You sure did, Boss!”

“I did it! I DID IT!!!”, Hugh shouted, wiggling and jiggling with excitement. “I'm Wulfric Maximilian!”, he said, turning to Theta.

Theta grinned from ear to ear. Hugh's excitement was contagious, as he briefly forgot about the delicious turkey in his hands.

Hugh looked down at his gorgeous fur coat. “I can't believe I finally shape-shifted after all these years! And it doesn't even hurt! How is this possible?”

“Well, you did say that I bring out the best in you”, Theta said with a wink.

The white wolf pondered Theta's comment, both replaying the evening's events and skating the surfaces of his own subconscious. From beyond his square spectacles, Hugh gazed at Theta with eyes as big as his dining room plates. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

Theta crammed the rest of the turkey in his mouth. “Mmm-hmm!”, the UFO animal murmured happily, both paws pressed against his lips.

Hugh waddled over and suddenly embraced Theta in a uncharacteristic, massive man-hug. Both of their sizable stomachs made Hugh's display of affection a little awkward as the white wolf couldn't get his arms all of the way around Theta's back.

Without even chewing, the grey wolf was forced to swallow as Hugh squeezed him. Theta embraced back, with his belly bulging and burbling gratefully from the mouthful. “You're welcome, pal”, Theta said, patting Hugh on the back. The two heavy hounds then separated.

Hugh scratched at one of his pointy ears. “Theta... I don't know what you did, but I really appreciate your help”, he said.

“No worries, mate! I appreciate the turkey!”, Theta replied. He covered his mouth with a paw as his cheeks puffed out with a stifled burp. “Oof, pardon me!”, he said. “Guess I went a little overboard.”

“Balderdash. No apprentice of mine can ever go overboard”, Hugh scoffed. “Next time, I should cook you an ostrich! That'll put you up several dress sizes!”

“Mmm, you should make me some ostrich egg omelets too!” ,Theta added, stroking his stomach greedily. “My belt could use another few notches!”

Hugh let out a pompous laugh at his partner's never-ending appetite. However, the white canine's cheery face soon contorted into confusion. “You know, Theta, I spent decades thinking about how to transform again...”, he started. “But, now that it's happened, what should I do?”

Theta rolled his eyes. “Duh! You can do all that cool stuff you told me about before!”, he retorted playfully.

“Oh no, no, no... I couldn't possibly”, Hugh said, recoiling like a bashful turtle. “What would everyone else think?”

“Whaddya mean? They'll think you're “Wulfric Maximilian”, not “Hugh Forric”. As long as you're transformed, you can do anything you want!”

The white wolf froze in place at Theta's comment.

“C'mon, think of the most indulgent thing you can, and let's do it! Both of us!”

Hugh's pupils shrank to pinpricks as his mind went a million directions at once. Years of desires bubbled up from his id, and clashed against his perfect socialite super ego. “But, what we want is impossible, isn't it?”

“Boss, when I got here, a lady told me that nothing's impossible as long as it's funny”, Theta stated.

A sound argument, being the most famous law of cartoon physics. Hugh stroked one of his chins. “Maybe... maybe just as long as someone enjoys it...”, Hugh pondered. His face blushed pink, thinking about the massive power and immeasurable pleasure he rightfully deserved. That they both deserved. “Does that mean I can-”

“Yep”, Theta nodded.

“...and then we can-”

“Uh-huh.”

“... with both of us being-”

“You got it!”

Hugh salivated from his jelly-like jowls. “We'll be regarded as royalty! Our kingdom will span the entire Earth!”, the round wolf ranted. “I can even be the 'Roi de Baleines'!”, Hugh added with a French accent.

Thankfully, Theta's French tutoring was just enough to translate Hugh's excited garble. The wolf laughed. “The 'King of Whales', huh? I wanna be that too!”, Theta teased.

All of Hugh's muscles relaxed as he spun his wildest dreams around in his head. The white wolf brought his paws up to his flushed face. “Oh, goodness! Goodness gracious me!”, Hugh swooned. “It's so wonderful! I think I'm going to faint!”

“Don't pass out on me now! We haven't even started!”

Hugh panted, his tail wagging so rapidly and forcefully that it shook his whole body. The furry, fedora-hatted wolf looked just like a hungry puppy around a treat it can't reach. “Well, bust my buttons! You're right!”, he exclaimed. “We're going right down to the kitchen, and-”

Theta placed a paw on Hugh's shoulder. “Whoa! Hold up there! Let's not eat the turkey before it's marinated!”, Theta said. “If the dogs downstairs see Wulfric Maximilian, and not the OTHER you, they're gonna call the cops!”

The white wolf clutched at his portly, privileged body. “But... but... but, I'm staaaaarving! I'm skin and bones! I'm wasting away!”, he complained while his tail retreated between his legs. With droopy ears, Hugh looked at the clock on the wall, and whined pitifully. 49 minutes until dinner!

“Awwww... I know, buddy. I know”, Theta sympathized, patting Hugh on the shoulder. “But, since you're a wolf for the time being, I know of ANOTHER thing you can do...”

“What's that?”

“I'm gonna teach you the most important part about being a wolf!”, Theta stated, pointing his finger in the air. “I'm gonna teach you how to howl!”

For about an hour, the twin, tubby wolves wailed soulfully in the study. The Watchdogs in the kitchen howled along as well, having no idea about their master's temporary transformation. It was the ultimate irony that the birth of Wulfric Maximilian would be greeted with such warmth and camaraderie, considering the devilish plans the two canines had in mind for the rest of the Earth. No matter what horrible, non-canonical things happened, it was nothing that couldn't be fixed with the blink of a cataract!!