Legenden von Fledermausmann

Let’s talk about Europe.

I’ve actually been to Europe on several occasions. “Oh, you lucky dog!” people say. “Why on earth are you complaining about going to Europe? I’d love to go to Europe!” Well I’ll tell you why… Because in each and every case, I was traveling with my family, and as previously reported this is a really intolerable set of conditions.

Here’s an example. While we were in Germany in some random town, we got off the train (Since it was the end of the line and didn’t go any further) and set out to find a hotel. There was a hotel next to the train station, but it was fairly classy and cost a fortune. So my dad figured that cheaper hotels would be within about a block of the train station.

So with a metric ton of luggage between the four of us, we started wandering away from the train station, and each hotel we passed was too expensive looking for us, so my dad just kept saying “one more block.”

“One more block.”

“One more block.”

“One more block.”

“One more block.”

Eventually we ended up hopping onto a bus that we hoped would take us the many many many blocks away from the train station that we needed to find an affordable hotel, but instead we ended up on some hill in a residential district with nary a hotel in sight.

So what’d we do?  We hopped on the next bus back to town and ended up staying at the hotel that was next door to the train station.


So anyway, on one of these family “vacations” to Europe, mom had the brilliant idea to go visit Eastern Europe, to “see the ancestral home of the Miksches.” And we ended up somewhere in the Bavaria’s in this little village that looked like it hadn’t moved forward since 1800.

“Mom, this place is a crap hole.”

“But don’t you want to see the ancestral home of the Miksches?”

“Firstly, you married into the family, what do you care where the name came from? Secondly, they came from what was then part of Poland in the colonial days, it’s not like we have any relatives waiting for us. Thirdly, it’s now part of the Czech Republic. Fourthly, WE NEVER CAME FROM HUNGARY!”

So yeah, we had another fight on the spot. So I went and stormed off (it was a little village, not like I was going to get lost) to cool down, and yadda yadda yadda, I got bit by a werewolf.

Now let me tell you, being a werewolf is HIGHLY inconvenient. And of course my mom was totally in denial about it…

“Oh, he’s just going through puberty.”

The hell?! I was EIGHTEEN! I’d already BEEN through puberty! And since when does puberty only strike once a month on the full moon and then go away?

“He just loves those little kids!”

Yes mom, I loved the little kids. I WAS EATING THEM!

As you can imagine, I was a very irritable werewolf living with a woman like that for a mother, so I spent most full moons out of the house running amok. I mean hell, I was a werewolf! Who was going to stop me?

So one night I’m out lurking behind some buildings downtown, wolfing down (Pardon the pun) some little kid, when the alley way darkens and a tall, cloaked figure cast his shadow down its length.

Grrrrrr… Who is this silly human that dares intrude upon the Terror from Bavaria (‘Cause that’s what I called myself. Yeah, I know Bavaria had one too many syllables to make it work, but it was the best I could think of)? So I lunge at him, and who should it be?


Oh thank god! Batman! You’ve got to help me, I’ve been turned into a werewolf, and all I want to eat are small children, but they give me such terrible heart burn! Please please please, you’ve got to change me back!

Of course all that came out was, “Grrrrrr! Snarl! *Gnashing of teeth* Groooooooooooooooowl’ll swallow your heart!”

So Batman did the only reasonable thing and put a silver Batarang through my heart and left me for dead before stalking away into the night.

Of course it obviously didn’t kill me. No, I was just left for dead and when I came to, I had amnesia. I had many misadventures as a result, before ending up in Bavaria again through happenstance where I managed to kill the original werewolf by running over him in a silver car.

Yeah, I know it seems kind of silly, but it makes sense if you hear the whole story. Unfortunately, that’s not one of the…