'maaarrrty' simon yelled from the lab.

marty did not even briskly stroll over from were ever he had, in fact he had slowly walked, repeating the simple left, right pattern he had had to master in order to walk, because flying in the low roofed lab would not work.

'yes boss' marty said in a less then interested voice, after the many failed attempts he had little faith in the "big plan".

'it is ready' he resisted the evil laugh in order not to look stupid.

the master plan as he called it, was to turn all the humans and monsters in to giant wasps like them, after a small problem that happened with the spinklorfes 3 years ago there was 40 killed due to the wasps poison. but they can not outcast everyone, and once everyone is lost and has no one to turn to they will be the supreme rulers.

'push the button marty' his slimy greased hands pushed down as they watched the chaos spread through the city, each person and monster would turn now!.... now..... now? what was wrong? just at that moment, a bold looking man holding a gun barged in like he owned the place.

'how many plans will it take for you to realise you will never win' a slightly fake American accent gave away the fact that he we a cop. that and the golden badge on his tacky blue uniform. a bunch more police stormed in, and wrapped a cold metal around simon and marty's wrists.

'we have been on to you for weeks' one of the police behind them stated proudly. then in the back of a police car they went off to the only place that cop cars went-

jail.

Dateline DNA City: since the advent, and Ascendancy of the GDC, the Genetic Design Corporation; modified (former?) Humans, commonly called "Geners", have come to prominence, if not Dominance, of certain industries.

Specifically Mining and Exploration, Sports and Security, and the "Furries" so prevalent in the euphemistically entitled "Hospitality Industry".

Ironically, Military "Weres", are often sold, as Wares, to foreign governments once their mods have been superceded.

WW417 entered service in 25; it saw action on Five Continents, and was "Medaled" Twelve Times in five years.

After Destroying a platoon of U.N. Peacekeepers, who 417 Claimed had raped a boatload of Penguins; it's Contract was Sold to Mitsubishi Zero.

After fulfilling it's contract, the Wolf moved to Great Wall Street in Shanghai, because, in it's own words, "I Like Chinese. Food."

He slouched lazily in his chair, guards positioned on standby. A slow grin spread across his face, and even through his muzzle, fangs flashed to the jury. This was the most emotion he had shown in longer than he could remember. His eyes drooped, the type that desired sleep, as he had already been awake more than five lifetimes. More than twenty counts of murder were under his belt already.

He no longer spilt blood for the sustenance, but to feel alive again. Life didn't matter. Nothing mattered to him anymore. Numbness was all he felt. Each day was empty. The motions of life were worth nothing. All he wanted was the agony in each of his victim's faces. Death required a great amount of pain, a reminder that they were alive before they left the mortal world.

He thought this would be the way out. They would take his life for him. He was too much of a coward to do it himself. He would finally be free from the cell he lived in. But the judge could see past his façade. She could see past his nonchalant demeanor. She wouldn't give him what he wanted. His sentence was to live.

A guttural scream left his mouth as she sentenced him to life in prison.