Terry was awakened from a sound sleep by the sound of hooves on the floor and snorting in the next room; a moment later, the floors shook as a stampede commenced.
"Oh no!," bemoaned Terry, "The buffalo are at it again!" Whoever had wished in song for a home where the buffalo roamed either had not had the actual experience, or had chronically messy floors.
It was not that Terry actually wanted buffalo in his home...quite the contrary. It was only that Terry had the misfortune of being under a curse cast upon him by a wizard called Dumbledoofus, or something of that sort. Wizards, it would seem, didn't take kindly to being cut off in traffic, especially when given the one-fingered salute to add insult to injury. Anyhow, ever since this unfortunate mishap, animals depicted on Terry's coins would unpredictably come to life, and wreck havoc on Terry's home life. The buffalo had been generated by the reverse side of Terry's small collection of Indian head nickels, and on occasion they united to form their own herd.
As he rubbed his worn and weary face, Terry flinched as an eagle screamed through his bedroom, spawned by the reverse image on his Washington quarters.
Worse yet, Terry couldn't simply spend the coins and be rid of the whole business; that bastard wizard had covered this possibility. Every time that he spent the coins depicting animals, they would immediately be returned to him in change at his next transaction.- -Magic was such a bitch!
Terry cried aloud in pain as a beaver bit him on the ankle, a creature produced by a stray Canadian nickel Terry had come to possess. He kicked at it to drive it away, but had little doubt that it would return.
In his kitchen a low guttural growl emanated, the disgruntled moan of a bear generated by his Alaskan state quarter. Dishes clattered to the floor as the ursine dismantled Terry's kitchen in search of food.
"I can't take this shit anymore!," cried Terry as a stray buffalo butted into his chair in search of the herd.
Not without his own resources, Terry morphed into his lupine form and vaulted out the window. He already had the wizard's scent, and would track down and settle old Dumbledoofus' hash personally. Werewolves, after all, don't get mad but even...