The lycan, Ioana, stands in her nightgown wearing a simple jacket, Ling's wig in hand. "What is going on down here?"
"Oi, my hair." Ling holds up her hands in front of her, inviting Ioana to throw it her way. "Thanks for that."
"Deputy, where are the others?" asks the sheriff, "Also, my knife?"
"I'm the only one, sir," says Tanglepork, saluting, "And it's in the pond, sir."
"Then why didn't you grab it?"
"The fair lady will only give it to its owner: you."
"A man's got to do everything around here."
"Shove it, mate," says Ling, adjusting her wig, "First is the witches. We con-"
"Oh, new guests!" shouts Zingiber, twitching with excitement, Gudrun right behind her.
"Which one do ya want, Doctor?" asks Gudrun, "Ya've earned it."
"The bl'ell are ya spouting now?" yells Ling.
"Wait, who's what?" sputters Tanglepork.
"Deputy, get the men," says Honeycrisp, his nostrils flaring, "I'll handle this brainjacking b***h."
"Ya took control of him?" asks Gudrun.
"Are you throwing us under the cart?" asks Zingiber.
"Officer," whispers Ioana to Tanglepork without looking away from the witches, "I think we need to get out of here."
"What are ya trying to pull, Gudrun?" Ling adjusts her cloak.
"Porky." "Deputy." "Officer." "Gnome." "Little thing." The voices blended together, contradictory commands overlapping pulling the gnome's attention apart in a dizzying cacophony.
"Oh," says Ioana, stumbling forward, "Why?"
Tanglepork's gunhand trembles as she stares into the hole in the back of Ioana's head. "Do you think I'm stupid?"
"Yes," growls Ioana, turning to face her attacker, her face contorting savagely, "I do."
"Why did you do that, idiot?" barks Honeycrisp, "You really trying to kill an eldritch witch with a gun?"
"Bl'ell, everyone wait," says Ling, "I talked to your boss, witches. The kids are alive; we can work this out."
All attention turns to the doctor.
"Why would you trust it?" asks Honeycrisp, "The thing's helping these-"
"It said... something that meant it was talking to the kids," says Ling, nervously, "Or, at least, knew them."
"Is this about the brat you're selling drugs to?"
"I'm not selling drugs."
"Right," says Honeycrisp, "Giving drugs to."
"Not the time, Sheriff."
J: Why didn't you ever just use that surgery spell you crafted on her? L: Because she didn't want it? J: ...Valid.
Zingiber interrupts. "Oh, if they're still alive, we can kill them ourselves!"
"The screaming was nice," says Gudrun, fondly, "We can make a whole choir this time."
"Hate to waste that meat," mutters Ioana.
"What is wrong with ya?" yells Ling, "I'm trying to get ya c**ts out of this!"
"If you think I'm letting these c**ts go," yells Honeycrisp, "You'd best be ready to share a grave with 'em!"
"Ugh, so glad my son doesn't talk like this," mutters Gudrun as the doctor and the sheriff resume cussing each other out. She turns to her elven cohort. "Ioana's got the gnome, I'll take Captain Bulls***e, and-"
"Dr. Ling will feed me my own a**e," says Zingiber with a chipper enthusiasm more appropriate for boarding a carnival ride.
"Or ya could try winning," says Gudrun, exasperated.
"Love the confidence, and I will try," says Zingiber, "But she's going to destroy me, just like she did earlier."
The deputy is unfortunately not forgotten in this mess. The lycan looms over her. What they have to say transcends language, visible by a glance: Ioana expresses an intent to eat and Tanglepork expresses a need to change her pants.
And thus, the fight begins.