Whilst Mr. Pickles had a wonderful day, feeling more confident than ever before, Mr. Trout couldn't help but notice a change in his friends attitude. Maybe it was his new mustache or his suddenly excellent acting, but he had become cocky and rude. He would snap at his friends, which he never did before. He wouldn't stutter in his words or hunch over while he walked. He was a new man, but it didn't seem like it was for the better.

That night, everyone was asleep downstairs in the basement. Mr. Gristle snuggled his chewed up bat like a teddy bear as he snored in his hammock made out of old Boxtroll-catching nets. Mr. Trout was cozy on the top bunk that sunk under his weight, and Mr. Pickles was sleeping on the bottom bunk underneath with his feet hanging off the edge of the bed. It seemed peaceful, but Mr. Pickles couldn't stop tossing and turning in his sleep. He was feeling sick again, but this time it was worse. It felt like his whole body was undergoing a transformation. A sensation ran through his bones, sending chills up his spine, arms, and legs. Suddenly something came over him. Dog-like instincts kicked in and he was up out of bed on all fours. He sniffed around the room and caught the scent of his good friend, Mr. Trout. He barked up at the top bunk where he lay sleeping. Another bark, but no answer.

He backed up and readied to pounce, wagging his tail behind him. He leaped up onto the top bunk, directly on his friends stomach, rudely awaking him. Mr. Trout coughed and tried to catch his breath. He then noticed the large, skinny, dog sitting on his belly patiently waiting for something. He was frozen in shock, unsure what to do. The dog began licking his face, much to his discomfort. He pushed the dog off of his belly and onto the floor. The dog gave a yelp of surprise as it hit the ground.

Mr. Gristle awoke at this sound and in trying to get up to quickly, he fell out of his hammock bed onto the floor. He groaned as he rubbed his face and sat up. Mr. Pickles approached him and gave a few sniffs. As the dog sniffed him, Mr. Gristle growled and the dog whined and backed away in fear.

Mr. Trout climbed the ladder down to the floor from his bunk and stood beside his short friend. "Are you seeing what i'm seeing to, Mr. Gristle?" He rubbed his eyes, making sure that this wasn't all some bizarre dream.

"You mean the dog that looks and sounds exactly like Mr. Pickles?" Mr. Gristle grabbed his glasses off the night stand between the hammock and the bunk beds and placed them on his face.

Mr. Trout gulped. "Y- Yes…"

Mr. Gristle chuckled as he grew an eerie, toothy, grin on his face, "Yes."

They both sat for a moment and watched the dog scratch itself behind the ear with its foot. It looked just like their colleague Mr. Pickles, it wore his clothes and everything, the only difference was it was covered in shaggy brown fur. Even his barks and growls sounded like Mr. Pickles doing some sort of terrible animal impressions.

The two men looked at each other. The same thought was crossing their minds, but how could they be sure it was the truth. Mr. Trout pushed his friend towards the dog, "M- Make sure it's him." Mr. Gristle rolled his eyes, already knowing the answer, but went along anyway. He approached the dog and smelled him, as if he were an animal now too. As he did so, Mr. Pickles gave him a quick lick on the face.

"Bleh!" Mr. Gristle exclaimed, backing away and wiping his face with his sleeve. "It's him!"

The Mr. Pickles dog proceeded to take his pillow from off his bed and chew at it. Mr. Trout reacted quickly, "No! Bad Mr. Pickles!" he snatched the pillow away, but the dog had a tight hold. There was a bit of a tug-o-war as they fought for it. Ultimately, the dog won, sending Mr. Trout toppling backwards onto he floor. Mr. Pickles now saw this as a game and wagged his tail playful, jumping around and hoping they would do it again.

Mr. Gristle looked down at his friend lying on his back on the floor. Mr. trout looked up at him, "I think we're going to need some help." The two men nodded in agreement, and Mr. Trout sat up, "You watch the dog." Mr. Gristle gave him a small salute before he rushed upstairs to the phone.

At the Monte Cristo residence, the phone rang in the kitchen downstairs. Pepper groggily made her way out of her bedroom and down the stairs. She yawned as she answered, "Monte Cristo residence, what do you want?" Bitterness dripped from her voice, as usual.

"Ms- Ms. Pepper? Is that you?" Mr. Trout asked hopefully.

Ms. Pepper instantly perked up, as if she was wide awake. "Mr. Trout, what a surprise! What are you doing calling here so late?" she found herself fixing her hair like a schoolgirl taking to her crush, even though he couldn't see her.

Mr. Trout thought for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to explain the situation. "Well… Something has come up and I can't really explain everything right now, but I need you here at the factory right now. Could you do that?" he begged. He looked behind him, where Mr. Gristle and Mr. Pickles had followed him upstairs. He rolled his eyes, as they played tug-o-war with a piece of rope they found on the floor. Mr. Gristle held his end of the rope in his mouth like the dog did.

Pepper was confused but curious and promised to come, "Alright. I'll be there as soon as I can!" She hung up the phone and for a moment her heart beated loudly, unsure of what was to come. Her head filled with visions much like her books had told, of men setting up mystery dates and confessing their love. She had never felt like this about anyone before. She quickly yet quietly ran upstairs to her room and got dressed, making herself presentable. She felt silly fussing over herself like this so much for a man, but she really couldn't help it, she had no idea what was coming over her. She tiptoed down the stairs and out of the house. Once she was outside, she began racing down the hill as fast as she could without tripping and rolling down the road like a barrel.

As she approached the Red Hat factory she had to stop, catch her breath, adjust her hair, and smooth her dress out one last time. Just as she was about to knock on the door, she heard a howling coming from inside. She froze, a bitter expression crossing her face. Another loud one came out, and she couldn't help but cover her ears. She hated dogs and the sound of howling, especially with the one in town keeping her up at night lately. Her face fell and all the thoughts she had worked up in her head before were wiped clean out of view. She sighed, looking like her tired self again, and knocked hard on the door.

The door slid open to reveal Mr. Gristle, he leaned up against the door frame and smiled. "Hey, good lookin'." His slimy grin was enough to make her gag, but she refrained. She pushed past him and into the factory, but stopped in her tracks as she saw the oddest sight before her. Mr. Trout was trying to hold down a large, skinny, dog, whilst it tried to escape from his grip and howl loudly at the moon shining in from the windows. At the sight of the lady, Mr. Trout released his grip and the dog bolted for the metal stairs. As soon as he reached a window, he propped his front paws on the wall and howled. All three of them covered their ears as he continued on.

Ms. Pepper was now fuming with anger. "Do you care to explain to me what is going on?" she placed her hands on her hips and stared daggers at the man sitting on the filthy floor. He began to stand up as he tried to explain, "Hehe, funny story really. Uh… You see, Ms. Pepper-"

"Mr. Pickles is a werewolf." Mr. Gristle stepped in beside Pepper, making her jump at his sudden intrusion. She scowled at him and returned her attention to Mr. Trout. "That's impossible!"

"No, no, it's true! Think about it, he was bit by that dog the other night, and since then he's been more confident, more rude, he even grew a mustache! Now there is suddenly a dog in the factory that sounds and looks exactly like him?"

Ms. Pepper couldn't believe the stories they were coming up with this late at night. "It's coincidence!" she crossed her arms.

Mr. Trout argued, "What kind of a coincidence is that?!"

"Well if you're so sure that that dog is Mr. Pickles, then prove it!" Ms. Pepper smirked, sure he couldn't do it.

Mr. Trout thought for a moment, then whistled and called the dog down to him, "Mr. Pickles! Come here, boy!" The dog poked it's head over the railing then came rushing down the steps and to his friends' side. The dog caught sight of Pepper and growled at her. Ms. Pepper stood her ground, too tired to care. The dog barked at her, and she snapped, "Shut it!" Mr. Pickles quickly whined and hid behind Trout's legs.

The lady sighed, "Alright, fine. I believe you." She pinched the bridge of her nose with one hand, keeping her other arm crossed in front of her. "So if you know this dog is Mr. Pickles, then why did you call me down here?" She let her hand fall to her side as she waited for another explanation. She was feeling incredibly foolish after fussing to get there so quickly, and now finding herself more tired than ever, she was ready to take the long walk back home and forget all about this.

Mr. Trout rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed he had dragged her all the way down there so late at night. "Well, I wasn't sure how to handle this situation. We have to figure out how to change Mr. Pickles back to normal. I- I figured you could help since you're the smartest person I know."

Ms. Pepper's face shifted from angry and tired to shocked and flattered. "Really?" she asked. He nodded, a small, warm, smile on his face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to keep her cool and refrain from grinning like an idiot. She regained her composure and opened her eyes, "Fine, I will help you with… This." she gestured to Mr. Pickles as he chewed on his own leg. "Tomorrow we will go to the library and research the whole subject of werewolves, but for now I want to sleep." Mr. Trout nodded understandingly as he looked down at his friend who was trapped in this curse. He hoped there was a cure to change Mr. Pickles back into his normal self.