My handle is Big Bad Wolf, but my real name is Nora. I live in North Howllywood, CA and with my past I'm surprised I didn't come across this site sooner. I worked a couple of years at the Red Moon Massacre attraction (log ride) at Knott's Scary Farm, once as "Big Red" (bitten Red Riding Hood) and once as a wolfed-out lumberjack. I looked better as Big Red (I cannot believe I wore that $2 hooker outfit!) but I had a lot of fun as the lumberjack. I was hidden from view until they were right next to me, so every time I saw a redhead chick comin' round the bend, I'd jump out and snarl "Hey, Red! Let's have a peek at the goodies!"
I told you I was a big, BAD wolf!
I really should have moved to Texas in the late 80s; when I was at Fangoria's Weekend of Horrors in '86 I met a really sweet, cute guy named Lance Pope. Some of you may already prick up your ears at his name. To be more accurate, I met this gorgeous werewolf named Vincent. He was in front of me in the line on stage for the costume contest ... I was in my award-winning Freddy Krueger costume (though it didn't win at this particular con). I recall thinking "I don't even care if the guy in there is an ugly nerd, I can do him in the suit!"
Again, BAD being the key word here.
He ran a haunt in Texas called Haunted Verdun Manor every year at the time I met him, and over the years that became a whole theme park called Thrillvania. His profits went to wild animal shelters and he even kept lions, wolves, etc himself. Sadly, this wonderful man is no longer with us, and part of me wishes I had moved there, taken care of him and helped with the park. Maybe he'd still be here. I know, but these are the things grief makes you think.
He was so much fun to flirt with. We sent audiotape letters back and forth, and Lance himself was a perfect gentleman ... Vincent was the BAD boy. He'd come on the tape after Lance had said goodnight, and say things like, "I'm gettin' reeeal hungry ... and since YOU'RE not here to eat (Sluuurp!) I'll have to settle for some raw hamburger from the fridge!"
Geez, why didn't I just jump in the car right then?
So I started using a she-wolf to attribute my BAD behavior to ... it's kinda like blaming the dog when someone farts, but some folks find it cute.
Down, Virginia!

BAD wolf!
The odd part is, when I was working the first year at Red Moon Massacre, I was in a doorway right before an exit to the outside of the mountain, so the outside light would cast a shadow on the rocks across the flume from me before the sun went down. The shadow was shaped like a werewolf ... pointy ears, arms outstretched as if to help me scare the log riders. And to top it off, I had just gotten a new Barry Manilow tape (I am a Fanilow, yes) and one song on it that went, in part:
I'm dancin' with a shadow, holdin' on to a dream that'll never come true,
still haunted by that old love song, my moonlight memories of you.
My heart is like a ghost town ...
Between the shadow, ghost town (Ghost Town Streets is one of the most ghoul-filled areas of the park) and the overall lost-love-regrets tone, it's like Barry was spyin' on me and felt I needed a good cry for my lost wolfman.
Well, now that I've bored you silly, I just wanna say thanks for taking me into THE PACK, I'm really happy to be here!
These emoticons are great! Did anyone else notice that they're a sailor and a biker away from making The Village Wolves? Maybe I'll try to make those.
C ya on the prowl, pack![/i]