Werewolf the Podcast Ep.188: Another Werewolf Christmas – Dark Fantasy Holiday Special, Karaoke Chaos & Fairy Foxglove

It’s Christmas in Faeton… and things are about to get weird.

In this dark fantasy holiday special of Werewolf the Podcast, we step away from the chaos of celestial battles and into the strangest bar in the multiverse — where demons drink, elves serve, and fairies absolutely cannot hold their liquor.

Featuring:

• The chaotic return of Fairy Foxglove (tiny, toxic, and terrifyingly drunk)
• A supernatural Christmas night at Bosworth’s interdimensional bar
• The Professor, Wil the Werewolf, and Lucifer letting loose after the Gameshow & Wrestling chaos
• A twisted Christmas karaoke session, including a dark parody of Fairytale of New York
• Minotaurs, elves, demons… and one VERY bad night in the toilets

As festive cheer turns into magical mayhem, this episode blends dark humour, fantasy storytelling, adult comedy, and surreal satire into one unforgettable Christmas special.

⚠️ Expect:
Dark comedy, adult humour, supernatural chaos, and festive nonsense.

Perfect for fans of:

• Dark fantasy podcasts
• Comedy audio dramas
• Christmas specials with a twisted edge
• Mythology, demons, and chaotic storytelling

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Transcript

The handsome narrator.

It is that joyful time of year again when we are forced to go and spend time with our loved ones. It is the holiday season, but in my humble opinion, this is no holiday for anyone who is reasonable. It takes so much effort, what with trees and untangling lights. Having to deal with Christmas music for two months before it, not buying the right things for friends and family, and having to buy my brother Colin's horrible child something when I would like him to spend an hour with Krampus. I bought him a small drum kit. That will teach Colin. Lol! Small victories. 

You see, dammit, we have all spent a year working hard for too little money so that we can pay for presents thatwe can not afford for people we tend not to like. Or is that just me? 

It's probably just me. Well, it's just me. Some people like this time of year, especially Auntie Margaret. Well, she will. Enjoy it that is, until she opens her present from me. I bought her a beard and moustache grooming kit this year. She better be grateful for it. She bloody needs it.

I don't mean it. I'm no humbug. Please do not be upset. It is a most wonderful time of the year. People unwrap their booty. I meant that in the sense of them getting pirates' treasure, not unwrapping in the modern sense of the word booty, although sometimes that could be seen as a pleasurable thing to unwrap, I'm sure. In fact, if they are under the tree, then things are looking up.

Is it warm in here, or is it just me?

This week, we step away from the battle of the behemoths to spend some time with one of our new little characters. When I say new characters and when I say little, both these things are very correct. 

The character is the frothing fairy foxglove, who has only been in one episode so far. We loved her so much that we thought we would bring her to a little more life today and she is little. Little wonder. A little wonder

Happy holidays from all of us here. Remember, everything said in these episodes is in jest or for horrific fun, so...

The scene is set. We spotlight a bar. This is no ordinary bar. This is the bar for those who don't fit in. No, it's not like a biker bar or some other alternative venue. There is not a single Goth in here or some such niche lifestyle choice.

It is an alternative venue, but not the human type of alternative venue. No, this is the alternatives alternative venue. You have to be an alternative to a human to be here at all.

We have spoken before about this bar and its somewhat specialist clientele. This bar is situated in the town of Faeton on a separate plain built by the mighty Djinn Bosworth. He retired from genieing or Djinning or whatever. How would you say it? Make a wish work? I don't know, but I think he has moved on and runs this place now for fun.

Fairy Foxglove has been at the big fight in the local town hall. There was not a town hall earlier, but as in all things that happen in this strange place, the fact that it was not there before does not seem to bother the folk who frequent the place. It's normal for them not to have normal things happen. Isn't supernatural life a wonder? It's as though it is makey up and fiction. Bizarre eh?

The spotlight focuses on the tiny lady sitting on the bar's edge, swinging her legs. Because she is so tiny, the spotlight has to go even closer. 

The teeny tiny Fairy is green. Well, she had to be, and her hair was pure purple—not a dyed purple but a natural purple. 

Yeah, I am getting to it. The purple of the flower that she is named after. Her body is that of a young female human—very shapely and... stuff. She is naked, but let's leave that right there. And she looks like she does a lot of healthy exercise. I don't know if she does, but she looks like that. 

On her back are a pair of beautiful butterfly wings. If you know your Lepidoptera, you will be able to identify the brand of Butterfly they belong to. I am no Ernest Wainright, so I can not. Let's just say they are beautiful and constantly vibrate a little in a flittery way. 

In her left hand is the stem of a glass. The glass she holds in her teeny-tiny hand is not so teeny-tiny. It is a normal-size cocktail glass. It had several normal-sized martinis in it so far, and where they went when she drunk them, I have no idea because she had drank about seven times her own volume in liquid over the last twenty-five minutes. 

Strangely, the bar staff were not worried about the amount she drank. In their eyes, that was what fairies were good at, and she was paying in fairy dust. Let's just say that stuff is worth a hell of a lot when measured by the gram. It makes the Colombian marching powder seem pretty cheap in comparison and is legal in all realms because, as you know, it does not exist, but please be aware that it does not make you literally fly. It makes you feel like you can, but you don't weigh Eighteen grams like the average Fairy. If you step off a roof on fairy dust, you will fly down; I mean, we could classify it as falling, really. You will fly down to a sudden stop.

Foxglove is sad-angry, and I think that is a good way to describe what she is feeling. Yes, sad-angry, that is definitely it. 

We have all been there... I think. If you have not, then that could be a good thing. Mostly, being sad-angry is not a positive thing in this life. 

'You know what Fliss?' She did have a drunken slur to her speech as she addressed the beautiful Elven bar individual who was listening to her. Fliss realised that she was as much a therapist to the local population of freaky creatures as she was a bartender. 

Fliss gave no answer. She knew that the Fairy was just voicing her thoughts. At this point, she required no answers or suggestions. Foxglove just needed the interest of one of those elegantly pointed ears.

'D'you know what Fliss? A girl tries to have a little fun, and everyone gets freaked out about it. I have been around for...' She tried to count on her fingers but realised that through the drunken haze that she had created herself, she had too many fingers to count. She should have ten digits should she not. How did she get to twenty-five? Anyways.

'About a lot of time. Like, pure centuries.' She continued. The petite Fae turned to look at the Elf. Fliss nodded at her. Fliss was good at this she had a number of different nods that gave various reactions as they were required.

'Can you imagine how boring it is to be a flower fairy? I flit through the woodland, and that's it. That's it. Just that! A lot of flitting around. What is flitting? You try to describe flitting. Flitting is pure... poo. No, I can say it. I can do it. I can swear. There are no...' She held her hands and framed the following few words with finger-made speech marks.

'There are no "ickle Childwen" about.' she continued. 

'I can say it.' she screwed her eyes up and released the word she wanted to express. 

'Shit!' She opened her eyes, and they were filled with pure joy—a fine thing to see on a fine fairies visage I have to say.

'Flitting is pure shit.' She emptied her glass somehow without spilling a drop. It was impressive as the glass was about a hundred times bigger than her head. She really should have ended up having a waterfall of martini wash over her, but somehow it was all siphoned into the teeniest tiniest of mouths. Very impressive. This Fairy could drink.

She threw the glass over her shoulder, and Fliss caught it out of the air in one move. It was incredible to watch. It was not reactionary. It was just like she moved to where it would be as if expected. You would have to see it to understand what I mean. 

'Same again, Fliss baby.' Demanded the Fairy. Now, as you can gather normally, Fliss would typically not have reacted well to being demanded of. But, come on, this was a cute little fairy, after all. We can let this one go. She's so cute!

'Same again, am going for a... p... p... p... pee! No. No am not am going for a p... p... piss!' The little Fairy flittered off, bouncing off random parts of the bar and random beasts that were in those parts of the bar giggling like a... well... drunk fairy. 

The big, hairy, scary beasts got out of the way or tried to ignore her. You don't want any trouble from a fairy. Especially Foxglove. Foxgloves are poisonous and can stop your heart, or hearts, depending on how many you have. The problem with the flittering fairies is kind of the same thing you get with little dogs. You know, like Jack Russels. You spoon what should be a big huge wolf's personality and being into a tiny body. Obviously, that is going to produce drawbacks in some cases. The small body is under a considerable amount of pressure to let that squished-up personality out.

As she finally slipped through the keyhole to the loo, there was a lot of commotion on the other side of the door. There was much banging and bashing around before Slothgut Throat ripper, the chief of the Minotaurs tribe, 'The Sludge Hammers,' came bursting through the door.

When I say he came bursting through the door, he came out at about head height and flew four or five feet before hitting the floor and sliding on his face another few feet, to where he stopped his forward momentum by his head, gently butting the bar. He was unconscious and still had his not-so-fragrant underpants around his ankles. Not such a great look for the Chief of the Minotaurs, but the lads would understand that he had met Foxglove. 

The other denizens of the bar watched him slide to a halt before returning to their beers and other liquids contained within their myriad of drinking vessels.

Fliss ignored the whole incident, knowing that the door of the toilets was blessed with a fiestag force field, so thatit would be okay. You can't damage that.

The door to the bar went ding as a number of people entered. There was no bell; the door said, 'Ding!' It's magic, innit.

The local denizens went quiet as the strangers were thoroughly stared at to determine whether they were friends, foes, or, in some cases, bar food. 

It was Will, the Professor, and Satan all entering excitedly.

Well, it is Christmas, so I can make up a little side story if I want. Let's all be honest. You all knew that Karaoke was going to happen again, did you not?

The three of them wandered to the bar, stepping over Slothgut's prone figure on the floor. Simon, always the gentleman, stepped over the gurgling behemoth and offered his hand to Lucifer to give her a steadying step. She gave him that look. You know the look. You know that look and dismissed his offer as she stood on the bull-like heap in front of her before continuing to the bar. Slothgut Throatripper gurgled once more, but this time, it had a hint of pleasure in it. 

The three were chatting about what had happened during the Gameshow and the subsequent night of wrestling at the 'Brawl in the Hall' event. 

Now, we could listen in and get the low down on what had happened, but we should not for two possible reasons.

Reason number one is we don't know what happened at the hall yet. No, I don't mean you; the listeners don't know. I mean us, the writers, don't know. So that's a little impossible to do because we don't know.

Reason two is that this is a side story that could also be relative only to this plain and this time.

(I will let you into a secret listener.) <Whispered>

The writer liked using the word "relative" there. It makes him sound clever when, in reality, it is just a science word that he sometimes uses to make this many-universe thing seem thought out. 

(He has not got a clue what realtive actually relates to.) <Whispered>

What I think he means with relative and stuff is that in this particular parallel universe, the things that have happened may be different than those that happened in the right parallel universe that we will be going back to.It's kind of clever that we must pick a universe to get the right story and that he can use words like relative tobotch them together.

Fliss was ready for them at the bar and had their favourite drinks ready. She was an elf, as has been said, but not the make-the-toys-for-Santa type, the type that would hunt you down in the woods for no other reason than that you were there and you were human. With Fliss, it had turned out to be a good thing that she had moved to Faeton and started working behind the bar. This is especially a good thing for the local population of humansthat lived near a certain forest in Nottingham. She was a very good shot with a bow.

'Evening, Fliss', Said Simon as he leant across the bar and gave the elf woman a kiss. A proper kiss. One of them ones that you give people you do rude things with. You know, the type I mean. When they get proper in there, the spit flies and tongues and stuff. You know the sort. When Aunty Gladys and Uncle Ken get a bit drunk at Christmas and make out on the sofa like teenagers, and you're only nine, and it disturbs you for the rest of your life... No? Just me, then? Probably for the best. 

This was okay that the two kissed like that in this case because the Professor and Fliss were doing rude things to each other when they could and stuff.

Satan took a bar stool next to the bar, and after Fliss had finished kissing and welcoming Simon, she leant across the bar and did the very same welcome to Lucifer. 

Erm... I can only assume that they have been doing something. Well, you know. It was unexpected. Simon looked on and smiled like the man of the world he was—all gracious.

Wil and Fen, on the other hand, stood there and watched this with some forethought. Wil was obviously considering what kind of welcome he was going to be given by the beautiful Elf. It turned out that he was not going to be given any welcome. He just had a glass pushed towards him by the Elf's hand and a smile. He was a little disappointed with this, but hey, that is what life is about. You know, abject rejection.

'How are things tonight, Fliss.' Simon asked the beautiful bar steward. No, no, no, you heard that wrong. Bar steward. The steward of the bar. Fecks sake.

'It's been very quiet. You know how it is around this time of the year for our folk.' She told him.

Most of us are doing December things—the Yule, Christmas, and other types of turn-of-the-year things.' Simon nodded at this information. Net

Fairy Foxglove finally came flitting back to the bar. Wil looked a bit nervous. She had been a bit overzealous with certain attention at the Gameshow, and he had to admit that the teeny tiny weeny eeny bitsy. No, not polka dot bikini, but Fairy made him feel uncomfortable. Not frightened, just awkwardly uncomfortable.

The Fairy floated over to them, hovering before the group so that she could address them at their eye level.

'Sooo's what's you guys up to tonight?' She asked them while really addressing Wil.

Simon and the Devil smiled at this and made eye contact. It was a knowing look, a look of shared mirth.

'And how are you doing?' She directed at Wil Joe Tribiarny style, off of Friends. Yeah, even Fairies have watched Friends. 

The smirking Prof and Luci turned to look at Will to see how he was going to react. It was always fun watching an extreme literal alpha male squirm. It was even more fun that the being that he squirmed before was a few inches tall and, in essence, a young woman. Neither of these should have caused any response except hunger for one, such as the werewolf.

'Well, ladies and others. It's that time of the night at that time of the year. Christmas karaoke. Buble and Mariah are unleashed back on the world, so roll up and give us your best.'

Bozzie was again behind the decks, ready to start the night. 

Simon, being a decent being and a kind-hearted chap to all sorts of beings, saw that Wil was fading. 

'I know, guys, let's sing a song.' He said. 

Lucifer smiled and nodded, raising and sinking her drink. 

'I'm in' She said

Wil looked physically relieved at this change of focus.

'Yes.' He said.

It was done he could leave the Fairy, but then she butted in. 

'We obviously have to do the Fairytale of New York.' She told them.

A little annoyed, they nodded in the spirit of the holidays.

Wil

It was Christmas eve babe.

In Faery Faeton.

A monstrous shape said to me.

You won't see another one.

But he'd got it wrong.

Those were his final words.

I smiled a fateful smile.

And his head sidewards.

Satan

Got on a lucky one.

Beat fate seven to one.

I've got the feeling.

This year is mine, you see.

So happy Christmas.

I love all of you chaotic souls.

You will all be mine.

I dream about owning you.

Prof

They've got teeth big as cars

They're unnervingly bold.

But nothing can scare me.

I'm incredibly old.

When you first take my life.

On a dark, scary eve.

You don't realise I'm immortal and 

am coming for thee.

You are tiresome.

You are shitty

But more of a pity

(we will sing this together)

When the bodies stop flying 

We both call out for more

Satan was swinging

Gabriel was winging

We shook hands in trauma 

and kept on with the fight. 

And the angels of the heavenly choir.

They were singing for the Fae

and the bells were ringing out for Christmas Day. 

You're a monster

You're a liar

I wish you'd die in a fire.

You know that I can't. That I can not be dead.

You horror, you loser.

You human abuser.

This ain't over my arse.

I pray to god it's our last. 

And the angels of the heavenly choir.

They were singing for the Fae

and the bells were ringing out for Christmas Day.

(Fairy Foxglove)

I could have been someone.

Not just some Fairy scum.

There are no dreams for me.

I'm wee too tiny.

But I keep on trying so.

The world will eventually know.

You can't ignore me.

If you try then this world ends.

(Everyone)

And the angels of the heavenly choir.

They were singing for the Fae

and they hoped that god would save them on this Day.