My name is Dr. Reginald  Alexander Ghurtholtz. I am a monsterologist, teaching monsterology at the world-famous Graveyard University. For those of you who don't know, monsterology is the study of monsters. Yes, they do exist. Of course, my so-called scientific colleagues disagree with me, but what do they know? They're just a bunch of chemists, biologists, zoologists and so forth. You know... voodoo scientists. They actually had the nerve to tell me that monsterology wasn't even a real word and that it couldn't be found in the dictionary. Seriously? Since when has the dictionary been the authority on words? They even criticized me for writing my own monsterologist license. Well, who else is going to write it? I'm probably the only monsterologist in the whole world. True, that wasn't their only criticism, but seriously, does it even matter that it was written in crayon? Or that I spelled my name incorrectly? Since when are those things important?

Unfortunately, I was outnumbered and was challenged by my colleagues, the state, and the federal government, to prove that monsters exist. The stakes were high. If I couldn't prove their existence, not only would I be stripped of my title, but Graveyard University would also be shut down since monsterology was the only course being taught. Getting the use of my basement back was not enough of a bright side to just give up. If they wanted proof, then I was going to give it to them. Since it was the middle of December, I thought I would start my search by looking for The Abominable Snowmonster. Yes, I said 'monster,' not, 'man.' Just in case I actually found one, I didn't want them to discredit my finding based on a technicality.

I decided to start my search in my own backyard. There was lots of snow, so there was plenty of places for one of them to hide. While walking up a rather steep incline, I noticed something directly in front of me. Was this what I thought it was? I quickly bent down to take a closer look. What I thought was a rather large footprint embedded in the snow, turned out to be a rather large rock sticking out of it. My, at that very moment, broken nose made that painfully clear. Going back into my house to get some ice for my nose was not an option. With my luck, that's when one of them would come out of hiding. Luckily, there was plenty of snow I could use instead. I quickly bent down to... You know what's more painful than breaking your nose? It's breaking your already broken nose! Yeah, that rather large rock got me again.

After three days of searching with no luck, I thought a better strategy would be to use the internet and have the monsters come to me instead. I offered to pay $10,000 to anyone who could prove that they or someone they knew was a monster. The response was amazing. Why hadn't I thought of this before? The numbers were so overwhelming, I had to separate them into groups, the largest of which were those claiming to be werewolves. Since werewolves love warm weather, I decided to conduct my werewolf tests in Florida. I didn't want to give them any excuses to not show up. 

Before werewolves can become official werewolves, they must earn three werewolf badges. To earn the first badge, they must sell at least twenty boxes of chipmunk cookies. Any who sell less than twenty, will be eliminated from further testing. So, why chipmunk and not werewolf cookies? That's just because the guy I hired to do the artwork for the boxes simply didn't know how to draw werewolves. I suppose I could have hired someone else to correct the situation, but decided to go with the lazy and cheaper solution.

The second badge is earned by howling at the full moon. Each howl is graded on volume, duration and most werewolf like. They can earn extra points if they don't fart during it. I remember testing one fella who told me he was going to howl the most epic howl in werewolf history. He huffed and he puffed, took in one final deep breath and just as he was about to, he let out the loudest fart I have ever heard. He was so embarrassed, he didn't even bother to give it a second try. It's too bad. I would have liked to have heard what he could do, though it would have needed to be one heck of an epic howl to drown out that noise. Seriously, I felt the ground shake a little.

To earn the final badge, you have to pass the silver bullet to the heart test. It's pretty self explanatory, isn't it? To be honest, the first badge isn't even necessary. I just thought it was a good way to make the $10,000. The final badge isn't necessary either. I just thought it was a good way to keep the $10,000. Hey, they wanted me to prove monsters existed, not that they were alive. The real test was earning that second badge. Unfortunately, only one potential werewolf earned it. The funny thing is, he was the most unwerewolf looking of the bunch. Sure, he had the fangs. But he had a slight build, pale skin, a slicked back hairstyle and this long, black cape that he wore. He also spoke with this funny accent and kept telling everyone how much he wanted to, "drink their blood."

In the end, none of that mattered. If the silver bullet to the heart kills him, he's a werewolf in my book. I can't tell you how disappointed I was after pulling the trigger. As you probably guessed, it didn't kill him, though he was flopping around on the ground, crying about how much it hurt. He was being such a baby about it, I drove him to the beach in the morning. I figured some sunshine would do him some good. I left him there to go get some breakfast. When I returned to check on his condition, all I found was his clothes. I figured if he was feeling well enough to go skinny dipping, there was nothing to be concerned about. Now that I think about it, I'm not so sure he claimed he was a werewolf. Oh well, it doesn't matter. If a silver bullet to the heart doesn't kill you, that just screams that you're not a monster. With that, it was time to head for home, no closer to finding a monster than when I started.

As I pulled into my driveway, I saw someone standing by my front door. I recognized her as soon as she turned to me. It was Ashley, a student in my classroom. I had suspended classes until I could prove the existence of monsters. What was she doing here?  I was about to ask her as I was getting out of my car, but didn't have a chance. Ashley spoke first. 

"Dr. Ghurtholtz. I understand you're trying to prove that monsters are real, am I correct?"

I nodded my head and asked, "Do you know of one?" She didn't answer right away, but I could tell she was trying to say something. I then took the initiative of inviting her into my home. I asked her if she wanted anything to drink. She thanked me, but declined.  We then went into the living room and sat down across from each other. She seemed nervous, maybe even scared, just looking at the floor. What could this be about? I was trying to think of something to say when she finally broke the silence.

"What if I told you, there was a monster living inside of me?"

Of all the things she could have said, that was one I never considered. I swallowed hard, struggling to respond. Finally, I was able to come up with a two word question. "Is there?" Without even looking at me, she nodded her head. "How do you know this?" I asked.

She then looked up at me. "I can feel it." She then leaned back, parted her legs slightly, and brought her hands down towards her waist before adding, "In here." Then she lowered her hands over the zipper on the front of her jeans. In a shaky voice, she asked, "Can you help me?"

I swallowed hard a second time. "Help you with what?"

She again looked down at the floor. "Help me... help me get it out. I... I've tried, but my fingers are too short."

She wasn't kidding. Ashley was quite tiny, probably not even a hundred pounds. Until that moment, I didn't even notice how short her fingers were. But still, was she asking me to do what I thought she was asking me to do? There are certain lines teachers and students shouldn't cross. Just to be clear here, I'm not talking about lunch lines. Even so, I reasoned that we would actually be helping each other. Ashley would be rid of the monster and I would have my proof of existence. I made up my mind right then that I would help her.

Ashley followed me to the bedroom. I told her to remove her jeans, turning my back for the sake of modesty. I waited and then heard her say, "I'm ready." When I turned around, I was surprised to see her completely naked on my bed. I kneeled down the foot of the bed as Ashley slowly opened her legs. She closed her eyes as I moved in closer. I couldn't believe how wet she was. It was a good thing, since I had nothing for lubrication. I was wondering how to start, when Ashley reached out, grabbed my hand and directed it toward her. I didn't even have to put my fingers in. She did it for me. As I began to feel around, a terrible thought entered my head. What if the monster has sharp teeth? I really wished I had thought of that ahead of time. It was too late now. All I could do was hope for the best.

Feeling around, everything felt like a normal woman thingy, wet, warm, kind of spongy. What if the monster felt the same way? I could be touching the monster right now and not even know it. I was going to need Ashley's help.

"Can you feel where the monster is?"

Ashley was taking deep breaths and was starting to sweat. "You're almost there," she said.

Suddenly, she arched her back. "Do you want me to stop?" I asked.

"No, no, no, no! You've got him! Don't stop!"

Alright, now I knew. The monster does feel like a woman thingy. Now I just had to fight to pull it out of there. "Come on out of there you crazed monster!" I dug my fingers in hard, thrusting in and pulling back to no avail. Ashley was moaning and squirming while thrusting her hips trying to help me. She closed her legs tightly around me, shivered and screamed loudly as something totally unexpected happened. I felt pressure, like my fingers were being forced back out. And just as they did, I felt an explosion, as if I just got sprayed by a high pressure hose, soaking me from head to toe. What the heck? That is one ill-mannered monster. He just spat on me!

I asked Ashley if she could still feel the monster inside of her, but all she could do was moan softly as her body continued to shiver. I got some blankets and covered her. She looked completely spent. I decided to let her rest for the time being. I didn't know if I helped her with her monster problem, but she sure helped me with mine. If there are no such things as monsters, how did I get monster spit all over me? Let's see how my so-called colleagues explain that one!