Weston considered himself a healthy guy. At thirty-three years old he still had a six-pack, the result of working out three times a week. He followed a strict macrobiotic diet. He practiced yoga and tai chi. The last time he ate processed sugar was during the Reagan administration.
Weston kept his head down and beelined for the nurse. The poop container was blue plastic, semi-opaque, but it might as well have been a police siren, blinking and howling. Everyone in the room much have known what it was. And, if they didn’t at first, they sure knew after the nurse said in a loud voice, “Is that your stool sample?”
Shapeshifters Anonymous is by far, the funniest book I think I have ever read. It’s a short story by J. A. Konrath that everyone should read. It’ll only take you an hour or so, but it is so worth the 99 cents. You’ll never look at Santa Claus the same way again!
What’s this about Santa Claus? Oh, nevermind. That’s for later.
So, Weston visits his doctor. He shows the doctor the poop sample he brought in. He assures the doctor that he only eats the best foods. However, Weston sometimes finds little stones and scraps of material in his poop. The doctor is skeptical, and of course, does the obligatory explore of his anal cavity. The doctor finds a button, a zipper and 63 cents in change.
“You think I’m lying to you.”
“These things didn’t just materialize inside you from another dimension, Mr. Smith. And you probably don’t have a branch of the US Treasury inside you, minting coins.”
At least someone seemed to be enjoying this. Weston wondered when he’d ask him to break a dollar.
Ok, so what’s this all got to do with Santa? I’m getting to that.
So, Weston goes home and does a little internet search, coming up with endless jokes, diet problems like anorexia and cannibalism, and fairy tales. He can’t find anything that is even remotely helpful, until he comes across a 1-800 number for real therianthropes. On a whim, and not expecting much, he calls the number.
In case you don’t know, a therianthrope is an animal that changes into something else. For example, a weresquirrel. That’s what Zela, the lady who took his call, turns into.
Weston hung up, ending what was easily the most surreal conversation he ever had in his life. An hour ago, he’d been a normal guy with some odd bowel movements. Now, he was 99% sure he was some sort of therianthrope.
But what kind?
On the way to the SA meeting, he comes across an unruly, nasty Santa standing out front of a store with his kettle pot of loose change. Weston just figures he’s a drunk Santa, loaded up on cough medicine that has forgotten to take his real meds. Weston thinks that there should be some sort of screening process for hiring Santa volunteers.
Weston finds out that there is a SA meeting that day at noon at one of the churches. He joins in and then the action starts. Yup, Santa arrives.
Santa isn’t who you thought he was, and quite frankly, I can understand why some kids might be frightened of him.
“And, this is for real?”
Scott reached up and pulled down his collar, exposing a terrible scar along his neck.
“Kringle gave this to me when I was seven years old, right after murdering my parents.”
“I thought he gave orphans toys.”
“He also gave me a train set.”
You won’t have any trouble enjoying this short story. It’ll make you laugh about his bowel movements, his troubles at the SA meeting and with Santa Claus, and you’ll cheer on every therianthrope (and the one that isn’t) until they have defeated the enemy.
Do yourself a favour today and buy this book. You won’t regret the 99 cents! I give this book 5 stars.