In the year 1971, astronomy student and aspiring guitarist Brian May's ill-fated camping trip may have more consequences than he first realized. Small but unexplainable things start to happen to him after he is bit by a dog in Humpy Bong Forest. His...
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The scent of the werewolves tickled Brian's nose and he tried desperately to conceal his adverse reaction. The sound of his guitar echoed through the lecture hall as he played his special piece. He looked out into the audience and squinted his eyes in the lights.
They must be somewhere in the audience, he thought, or the werewolf scent is stuck on someone's clothes.
Another wave of the stench hit his nose and he felt the tips of his fangs pierce through his gums. Brian pursed his lips together and felt their pointy tips poke at his tongue. A wrong note repeated due to his delay pedals through the room and Brian cringed and looked down at his hands in confusion. His nails on his left hand had elongated into semi-claws and pressed down on the wrong string like some sort of rudimentary tap.
He inhaled sharply through his nose and turned around to conceal his changes from audience members in the front rows. He made eye-contact with Roger felt his eyes quickly change color. The drummer raised his eyebrows like he asked, 'Is everything alright?'
Roger caught on, Brian internally scolded himself. He looked over to John whose eyes flashed yellow. John slowly shook his head.
Brian sighed and turned back around to face the audience. Something is certainly wrong. The werewolves are so close, he thought, but the show must go on!
He let himself melt into the guitar solo and slowly but surely he felt himself change back into his fully human appearance. As he placed the final hard rock section of his solo, he thought, I am lucky to have guitar. It is my sword to speak through and my shield to hide my lycanthropy behind.
By the end of Liar, the smell of werewolves had all but dissolved out of the room. John, Roger, and Brian all joined Freddie at the front of the stage for their bows and the crowd let out a deafening cheer. Freddie bid the audience goodnight and Brian followed Freddie out of the lecture hall back to their makeshift dressing room.
"Brilliant! Just brilliant!" Freddie awed, "They loved us, they really did!"
"Of course they did, Freddie," John answered as he propped up his bass against a wall.
Brian put the Red Special in her guitar case and kicked off his clogs to let his sweat feet breathe.
John wrinkled his nose and fanned the air in front of his face. "Holy shit, Brian!" he gagged, "What've you got there, hm? A dead animal tied 'round your ankle?"
"Even I can smell them," Freddie teased, "Please put those up and away as soon as the four of us are done changing."
Brian laughed and looked around the changing room for Roger's witty remark, but his friend was nowhere to be found. Brian rolled his eyes and took off his blouse.
"Where is Roger?" he asked.
"I don't know, love," Freddie answered, "I thought he was behind you."
