|It's a werewolf named Twilight, I just want you to know that I saw it and didn't make the jokes.|
Marine Sergeant and former private detective Terry Gardener is assigned to bodyguard the visiting Slovic minister, but when a fortune teller is murdered by enemy agents, the victim’s pet parrot leads Terry into a costume shop where he encounters a fuzzy union suit with his name on it. Yes, it’s the same old story you've heard a hundred times, the oldest tale in the book, they should have been embarrassed to haul its dusty bones out of the corner for even one last hurrah.
|You're going to spend your furlough in a mailbox?|
The biggest question in regards to Twilight is: What is he supposed to be dressed as? With his brown fur, pointed ears, weird vestigial wings on the arms and luxurious flowing hair, he looks as much like a wig-wearing monkey or a crossdressing chupacabra as a mysterious avenger of the night. Is he a hesher werewolf? A willow-thin, glam-rock sasquatch? A sugar glider in the throes of a mid-life crisis? Only his hairdresser knows for sure.
|I dunno, but you definitely pulled one over on your tailor.|