i can't. ginger gives brigitte a look over the top of her comic. brigitte takes a deep breath, and lines the needle up again. brigitte swallows hard and applies pressure. the needle pierces ginger's skin. her stomach muscles flinch.
you said it wouldn't hurt!
uh-oh . brigitte wiggles the needle. blood wells up around it.
um. i think it's stuck. oh man. there's blood.  ginger lowers her comic. she takes one look at the needle half-.in, half-out of her belly button - and cracks up.
snot funny, ginger! laughing her head off, ginger gives the needle a good tug from her end. the skin tugs with it, resisting.
ali, gawd, gross. ginger yanks the needle, hard. this time it moves.
oh, groo-oo-o-ss! the bloody needle pops clear. ginger grinds on the ring to close it. ginger wipes her bloody hands on the bed. brigitte is taking deep, gulping breaths.
yeah. i think so.
if you din't say it hurt, i'd a been fine! ginger beams at her new piercing.
very cool.
they didn't even get it.
they're cretins.
't'hey' re somnambulists.
they're the goddamn walkin'-.  the girls stop before their locker. a folded up piece of loose leaf has been crushed into it, its end sticking out.
somebody leaves you all. these jays an, yer not even curious to call?
me too.
i hate her. like to feed her ground glass with tacks for desert. then make her puke it back up and swallow it again until she's like shredded to a bazillion pieces from the inside out.  ginger grips her sides painfully and bends double.
teen cult my ass. look ginge', something went for its throat - it's not cut, it's chewed.  brigitte looks up in time to see ginger's eyes roll back in her head. ginger faints. the class inhales as one.
ginger? sykes and the class stampede up. sykes pushes brigitte out of the way.
"some days it's all you need."-? what does that mean?
hunh? ginger grabs the calendar and sticks it in her pocket.
oh. right. well, i dunno. brigitte shrugs. she gives ginger a funny look.
no.
no. .really. ginger squints at her, unconvinced.
or dead in this scene. ginger raises her hand and brigitte smacks it hard. as they mount the drive, ginger picks up a stone and hucks it at norman, who's still barking. she misses.
why din't you jus' tell her you're going to get it?
yeah, but now we have to see this doctor. you can jus' say you got it, but i'm screwed. flash! the polaroid spits out the front. brigitte sticks another tampon in her free nostril, and one in each ear as,
look - a walrus.
how'l1 you know when you finally get it any ways?
disgusting.
that isn't shit.  it's death. a line of blood and gore trails across the grass to a back lane. brigitte follows it. ginger looks around for something on the ground.
ack, it's still warm, gross. brigitte takes its picture flash! with the polaroid, which is strung around her neck.
hey, we could take it home. try like, an autopsy. like, crack the case!
we never do what i wanna do.
serious? ginger wiggles her wet fingers at her.
eeew, 'kay. brigitte catches her kilt on a nail sticking out of a plank in the trash. something is crunching through the leaves toward them. ginger peers out into the darkness.
i'm stuck3 a few homes down, a garage's motion-sensitive security lamp trips on. ginger squints, blinded.
this is stupid. we're getting farther from home. ginger is pissed off now. she turns to confront their stalker.
ginger, shit! ginger looks at herself. ginger starts to cry.
ginger, sshhh, don't, 'kay. don't cry. carefully, brigitte begins to dab at ginger's arms with it, wiping off the blood. ginger flinches. the damage is gradually revealed: massive claw marks, deep scratches, and puncture wounds - bite marks. brigitte's eyes fill with tears.
okay, this is really bad. you need a doctor, ginge', i can't stop all the -. 
what if you get, sick? what if these bites get infected?
fine! i won't tell! brigitte starts tearing off strips of gauze and taping it on thick. oblivious, ginger fumbles for a smoke. she can't get the lighter to work.
i know, i know. i was so scared, i thought you were -. 
it was crazy, it was like rabid or somethin' -- shit, look at the size of these bites!
drink this. ginger glugs some down, and passes the last mouthful left to brigit.t.e. brigitte waves it. away, -,o ginger finishes it al.l.
i seen this thing, on bears? said bears'd come after like, chicks on the rag. 'cause of the smell.
i didn't say that. 
i know, i'm not . 
it doesn't?
yeah, sure. ginger's only half-bandaged up. she staggers to the bathroom and shuts the door. brigitte eyes the polaroid camera: a picture sits ready to be dispensed. she pulls it free. we do not see the photo. brigitte's eyes bug out as she examines it. the toilet flushes in the bathroom and brigitte pushes the photo under the pillow on her bed. shaking her head.
you really okay? ginger-es eyes are already fluttering shut.
me too, ginge'.
gonna eat that? ginger shakes her head as she picks at her bandages. brigitte helps herself.
mmm! sad, but pamela's egg salad is her best thing. like that she can do. like, when she puts the baby onions in? and she gobs on it and adds those hard little pieces of
hell-o 1?
should eat something.
a craving?
yeah -?
you joke. ginger heads off toward the boys - without waiting. brigitte is in mid-,mouthful, and has to scramble to catch up.
hydroponics.
i'll letcha, i'll jus' let-choo know. bud. .so ginger. wanna tell me about you and like, the planet yer currently visiting? no answer. brigitte squints at the tampon dispenser next to her. she tries to work it without putting money in. she smacks her dry lips. brigitte bends over the sink and drinks from the tap.
that smoke fucked me _up._ up. brigitte finds ginger with her shirt and all, the bandages peeled off. she is dabbing at herself with wads of toilet paper. the scratches and bites are oozing a clear gelatinous goo, under which a fine film of dark hairs have sprouted. brigitte steps into the stall agape. the door hits her on the way in.
geez that's not right.
what's the sticky stuff?
oooh. tickly.
weird. does it hurt?
yeah, like forget that tattoo you wanned.
quito badly. the idiocy of the looks of awe on the other's face makes them both crack up.
stop, i'm serious. think about it. ginger stops laughing long enough to let the suggestion settle.
they're all looking at us.
so! you're growing fur an, acting like a nut, is so! ginger spies two girls giggling at her. using both hands ginger cracks the carcass. wide open like a clam. ginger digs in, gouging out the pig's parts with her bare hands. ginger breaks into a sweat, her breathing gets heavy. brigitte cautiously looks around at their classmates. she moves to shield ginger from prying eyes.
um. ginger-?
can't believe you did that!
if you just gotta skin thing why does it get worse everytime yer being a bitch? why's the gyno say you're a monster inside?
oh. no. g-ginger -! ginger begins to eat the dead dog. the feed. quickly becomes a ravenous frenzy. above her, brigitte leans over the branch she's barely balancing on, hyperventilating. vomit sails down from brigitte's perch.
ginger!
she's dirty?! brigitte throws up her hands: what an idiotic conversation.
weirder than killing a dog and
how can you - you've done every dog we can
like i'm scared.
ginger! ginger's rolling the taste of trina's blood around in her mouth.
you can't do that, that's human blood! .feel anything? brigitte and ginger stare at one another. ginger first shakes her head., but then nods. ginger looks around and whispers
fuck off. jason lopes up. he indicates the guidance office door.
brigitte.
ginger, we should get home.
twenty minutes ago you coulda killed somebody. is this really a good time to start dating? i don't think so. ginger shakes brigitte's hand off.
why?
what.
ginger what are you doing-! ginger grins and shows bee a bowl of crushed glass and tacks.
are you crazy?!
i'm sayin' she? will tell on you! this is someone who will tell! trina throws herself forward again and her toes connect firmly with the floor - just as her temple connects with a sickening crack on the sharp corner of the desk. the milk glass dumps on top of her.
my life is basically over.
rigor mortis. knew we shoulda skipped dinner.
but were you gonna? there is a long pause. ginger tries to laugh it off with,
'kay. .hurry up. ginger drags a section of the body into the playhouse with her. disgusting gnashing and tearing, bones snapping and other sounds of devouring are heard from within. brigitte keeps watch. tears appear in her eyes. the body is dragged another foot into the playhouse. ginger is eating trina to make her fit in the grave.
ginger, don't be pissed.
no! ginger pounds on the door with great violence.
we have to stop it ginge'. if we can. i`ll be back before dark. brigitte tears the page with the plant out of her book and leaves by the window.
shhh-it! i mean, sorry.
i din't. i mean i skipped, but-. 
rinda.
not today.
oh. s-sorry.
um. lookin' for this. she holds out the torn page. sam takes it.
no, i thought it did something else. doesn't matter.
you .got out. brigitte gapes at all the blood. ginger is very agitated.
last bell. wait till everyone goes. we'll stuff him someplace. clean this up. i guess. the sound of the full halls around them seems very loud now.
whatever.
i'm not mad.
stay here. lock the door. i'll knock once. ginger nods. brigitte slips out and creeps down the corridor. ginger shuts the door. then ginger whips it open again.
stop it! just stop. enough, ginger. please. please. ginger throws the canister any way, forcing brigitte to dive out of the way. smash! glass rains down over. brigitte. brigitte lifts her head in time to see ginger burn down the hall looking for more mischief. brigitte curls into a fetal position, burying her face in her lap and rocks herself. brigitte sobs. off-screen we hear ginger cont.inuing her ram a e else where in the school. brigitte wanders up to the janitor's cart, looking like a plane crash survivor - dazed and wretched. brigitte picks up a bottle of cleaning fluid. she sniffs it. she closes her eyes and tips it back. she washes it around in her mouth and lifts her chin to swallow. she spews it into the air, the taste making her heave instinctively. she dry heaves a couple of times. she throws the bottle at the wall.
ginger -?
shut up, leave me alone!
oh. then they we asking for it? what about jason an' them? gonna kill 'em all when yer done, ginger? 'cause you have to take yer clothes off for that shit, they wanna see yer body for that shit, you gonna let like five guys live to tell how they fucked the beast a' bailey downs? that could annoy you too! ginger prods a claw into brigitte's chest, pinning her in place.
yeah, i'm jealous yer turning into a nympho. i'm so jealous yer killing people who did never did nothing to you. yeah ginger. sure.
i'm sorry, but! brigitte writhes in pain as ginger's claw slices in deeper.
ginger?! this is me. ginger retracts the claw, and brigitte grabs the wound.
(very small,
don't, please! brigitte struggles to hang on, to rise from the floor; ginger's really hurt her.
maybe we can stop it! lemme try! ginger kicks free.
shit. principal fardor is speaking with the rcmp constable who has been visiting classes. fardor holds a hanky over his face.
i'm really, um. sam leans in and kisses her right back. better. longer.
yeah. yeah.
oh. 'kay. good. they sit staring straight ahead a moment. a cop ahead double- takes them, and reaches into his car for the radio mic.
brigitte. fitzgerald. no, that's okay. i need more monkshood.
oh, right. ok. ur.
why?
sh-sure. sorry. i gotta - ginger, so. brigitte slips out of the truck as they stare at one another with that look you get when you're scared because you just kissed someone you really, really like.
i be excused?
(speaking very
what is this stuff?
no, this stuff. brigitte plucks out a handful of dried plant with tiny purple flowers.
monkshood.
mccardy's here. the bathroom door unlocks but. remains closed.
ginger, you can't
i gotta get ready for the party.
what, through all fifty a' them?
hey, you gotta get outta here -.  ginger emerges from the bedroom like a reigning diva, and the room stops dead. brigitte drops her glass of punch. ginger has come out as herself, as an almost full-blown werewolf. she wears a lill red riding hood cape jobbie and a plastic mask. she's the best looking monster you ever laid eyes on. down her belly she has six perfect nipples showing and everything. the room bursts into a_cheerinq round of applause.
yeah, she's gone all right. hey. can you do me a favor?
can you give somethin' to ginger for me? jus' - we're navin' a fight, but i got this thing for her.
mother. you don't understand.
you bitch! brigitte discovers ginger sitting in the tub floor under the running shower, weeping. her eyes are swollen. ginger is now covered in coarse hair. the water around her is full of blood. there is a kitchen knife next to her. ginger's stoned numb on the monkshood dose. she's groggy and weak.
oh no. oh no. fuck, fuck! ginger doesn't move. ginger looks so pathetic, it's heart- breaking. brigitte snatches the knife away and shuts off the water.
press this on the cut! ginger! move, c'mon!
ginge'? that you in there? ginger cracks an uncertain, pained smile. brigitte does too, an exact replica, in fact.
okay. i can't clean this one up. we have to go. like go, go. can you do it?
um. ever bite something you din't kill?
ah. no. sam? isn't dead.
don't worry. keep pressing. t'll be right back.
hey. sorry. i really did think you were. like. not bad. so you know, whatever. any ways. i'm really sorry - i have to. sam moans as his good eye rolls up at her. brigitte blinks away tears and looks away, collecting herself. brigitte raises the bat over her head and swings it down as
ginger?! don't eat the body okay? i got this idea, an' we'll need sam. brigitte floors it and the truck blasts down their cul du sac to the main road.
fuck, fuck fuck, fuck.
ha! all rightie then. brigitte drives on. what she cannot see behind her in the grate are the glimpses of ginger in the flickering lights of the passing street lamps. her final spurt of transformation is taking place: flash! her face is filling in with fur. flash! her eyes glow golden, yellow, wolfen. flash! her face pulls into a wet snout. flash! a long pink tongue lolls out between glistening white fangs.
okay, ginger? they'll think that sam took us from our room, right? 'cause of his record an, the arrest, right? we're gonna make this look like he did, any ways. he got us, maybe killed us, took our bodies to do some unspeakable thingy. but then? sam killed himself. you follow? ginger doesn't answer.
so boom, diversion. meanwhile you an, me hit the highway. we can hitch, get you cleaned up. by the time the find out we weren't in sam's clutches at all, we could be any wheres. yeah? whatcha think? ginger doesn't answer.
it'll work. brigitte puts the brake on but does not cut the engine.
ginger? c'mon, we got move. shove sam down here. brigitte climbs up into the truck, reaching for something on its floor. brigitte f itids sam's prone feet. an animal. ginger launches out at her, knocking her back, out, clear of the truck. ginger isn't ginger any more - what we can glimpse in the darkness is an attack by a creature much like the one that bit ginger. and it's attacking brigitte. brigitte flails, kicks and punches at it. she breaks free and clambers at the tool rack on the inside panel of the truck. she grabs a shovel as the creature comes snarling up at her.
stop. i mean it. it lunges at her again and brigitte clocks it. it slides, dazed, off the back of the truck to the ground.
nice one. brigitte returns to where it. ginger was last seen on the ground. the shovel and blanket are there. a bloody pool trails off into the woods. brigitte hefts the shovel warily, shoulders the blanket, and follows the wetness shining in the moonlight.
fuck ginger. leave a fuckin' trail much? could leave everybody a fuckin' map.  tense seconds pass as she searches through the scrub and trees, shovel ready. we can hear panting and growling.
i won't hurt you if you don't hurt me. 'kay? ginge'? 'kay? brigitte spots something ahead and lowers the shovel as she approaches it. it. ginger cowers in the brush, collapsed. her head and tail are bleeding. brigitte drops to her knees nest to her sister, frantic with grief.
oh no. ginger. i didn't mean
you can't, you can't, we're out. you can't, don't don't do this to me. not now. look, look it's all taken care of. we're unsolved mysteries!