Klas

**Topic: The Unusual Life of a Garou and the Common Jobs of Wyrm Servants**

Ah, the life of the Garou! It is truly fascinating how fate can transform a mere mortal who asks you in the morning if you want the whole wheat bread or ciabatta of the week into a champion of darkness! What about the employees of Costco and Panera? They could easily be trained to torture the souls of the innocent instead of handing out cheese samples. It's like their resumes were ordered from a factory of evil!

Imagine if your daily life said: "While you're fighting the apocalypse, I'm bagging bread and dealing with customers who think the two-for-one promotion is really an attack on their ego." What could be more tragic than a coffee shop employee who, at his core, just wants a good dose of caffeine, but ends up being possessed by the Wyrm's wrath? Oh, the irony! "Oops, that cappuccino came with a demon embedded in it. What did I do to deserve this?"

And now, you find yourself there, among black and dead trees, surrounded by a ghost horse called "former employee", who, by examining the quality of your last coffee, has officially made your journey back to hell. Meanwhile, the flies, poor things, gorge themselves on the latest version of "Wyrm-style pork", wondering what happened to the respectable buffet.

And then Scarper, one of the great stars of the pack, appears, complicating the situation even more. He comes to do "justice" to a body already prostrate on the ground, displaying a skill that could only be compared to the work of a stand-up comedian at a funeral: a mixture of discomfort and shy laughter as he reminds us how everyone is there for a completely different purpose.

"Why do I have to do your job?" he asks, as if seeing an already mutilated corpse wasn't part of his life plan. "If I had known that a Garou's job now involves slapping merciless bodies at the right time, I would have brought pizza and a get-together." A real comrade!

Meanwhile, you find yourself in a super sad world, where the strict precepts of the Litany have been reduced to absurdly angry old men's comments about honor and dignity. It's like you're in a horror movie where every character is there only to ruin each other's things. And with Scarper trying to play "hitman for hire", we're on the verge of a dramatic breakdown that not even a Mexican soap opera could reproduce.

"Who are we, if not hunters of undelivered messages?" you think. In fact, what's left of the Garou are just a handful of nostalgic people acting like coffee shop ghost exterminators, choosing to live in a world of "it's not me, it's you" in a toxic relationship with their own laws.

And who needs more? Life as a Garou has become just that: a prime hunting ground for humans who find it worthwhile to offer their own flesh in useless sacrifices. Why worry about the future of the world when you can sip the despicable essence of what's left of humanity?

Ultimately, the moral of the story is clear: in this tumultuous circus of life, if there's a chance you can take a bite out of a human, get in line instead of being just another in the crowd echoing the need to rescue Gaia. Let the normal jobs of cashiers be a snack for all Garou, because the world isn't so lost after all—it just needs a good fast-food meal of mythological chaos to get back on its feet.