Who is a good politician? You are, boy! Yes, you are!
This initial moderate good will is quickly drained away by the bizarre set-up, including a friendship with an elementary school teacher whose house I hang out at. This would probably raise more than a few eyebrows today, but it was a more innocent time, I guess. Anyway, I'm told to rush over. "You're not going to believe your own eyes!" Fortunately, when I arrive he's missing and we don't get a Very Special Episode of Twist-a-Plot. But first I must decide if I want to be accompanied by a dog or a friend and I decide I've got Rover backing me up.
The dog's name is actually "Titanic." Yeah. Sometimes too clever is stupid, sorry. The authors (Yes, it took two people to create this book-shaped door-jam) were apparently pretty proud of what seems like an in-joke the reader isn't privy too, the best kind of literary in-joke, as this name is repeated several times while we search for "Mr. Watson." Did he discover the double helix in this basement? The answer is "no." Instead, he's created a "Super Strength" potion that will be sure to leave baseball announcers in complete denial for years. Must be special lighter baseballs or something.
Of course it's just sitting their, waiting to be abused. I'm given a choice not to drink, but let's keep it real. It's time to destroy the MLB record book and make millions.
The substance that was not illegal when I experimented with it, honest, tastes like lemonade and provokes immediate panic from my canine buddy. Easy boy, I'm the same person, just all jacked up. Or perhaps not, because I'm also in agonizing pain that the author compares to being "hit with a fastball." Well, if I'm going to hit all those dingers that will happen sometimes.
As you probably already guessed, the strength potion turned me into the wolf-man. So I guess it's going to be basketball, not baseball. I start the mournful howling, drawing some attention from outside. Time to "look for an electric razor." Ah, that awful snark this series is known for, how I missed it.
There is no razor. An entire page, full of painful wackiness (dead battery humor, my sides are destroyed), is devoted to conveying this information. Gah.
Yo, I heard you like cinematic universes, dawg. How 'bout this drivel?
The authors then explain that I'm a werewolf, because it was pretty ambiguous up until now. I burst through the door and there's my school principal (I heard there was an inappropriate relationship going on here, etc) and a police woman. They see my bike and naturally assume I'm the horrific monster that shares continuity and cannon with The Mummy and Gill Man, as any reasonable person would do in this situation. The co-authors describe this as graduating Summa Cum Furry. Yes, it took more than one person to come up with that.
I'm given a choice to be good or bad and decide to go with the grain and play for Team Evil. I assumed this would allow me to brutally murder the elementary school boss and the representative of the law (no silver bullets in that gun, good luck) but instead get a page full of b.s. about the animal nature within and our good intentions and how I should go hide at home instead of feasting on the freshly killed corpses of people who were trying to help me.
This book sucks.
To add insult to injury, my family doesn't even notice the change, at least in any meaningful way, so I turn myself in to the National Guard who were summoned for some reason that I'm sure made sense in the haze of narcotics and "Hey, that's really funny!" this slop was written in. Before they can shoot me like a Freedom School hippie in "The Trial of Billy Jack" the formula suddenly wears off, the status quo is restored like this is some horrible sitcom and that's the amazing story of the temporary lycanthropy caused by a potion that was supposed to make me strong.
No one wants to fight in a John McCain endorsed foreign debacle, what gives?
I can't really say too many positive things about this one. The authors (I still can't get over that. It's a Twist-a-Plot book, not the Manhattan Project.) put in some effort to make this one stand out, but the end result was disappointing, to say the least. If everything becomes a joke, why should I care? Also, Titanic the dog? Why? I guess I can live without knowing.