“We should probably lay low for a while yet,” Doodlebug continued, a little too quickly. “Before we go very far, I’m going to need clothes. That cloak of yours will cover you up in a pinch. But if we get pulled over on the way back to the bed-and-breakfast, I’d rather not answer the officers’ questions while naked.”

“If this is a theater, maybe there’re some costumes lyin‘ around in a dressing room. Worse comes to worst, there might be an apron down behind the concession stand we could swipe.”

“Any port in a storm,” Doodlebug said. “I have your flashlight from the glove compartment. Shall we go exploring?”

Doodlebug helped him off the floor. The flashlight’s beam revealed that the tremendous shiny wall Jules had been staring at was the back of a movie screen. The two of them walked around the screen to the front of the stage, and Jules immediately recognized one of the landmarks of his youth. Staring out at the hundreds of seats, he felt like a teenager again.

The Loews’ State Palace, in its prime, had been one of the top two movie theaters in downtown New Orleans. In the nearly eighty years since it had been built, the world of moviegoing had changed radically. Going downtown was anathema to modern-day audiences; they watched their movies in multiplex theaters built on old cotton fields. The State Palace had somehow hung on, though. For the last few years, the grand old theater had played host to dance raves and revivals of classic movies.

Jules shone his light onto the tremendous balcony and side wings that, by themselves, could probably seat nearly eight hundred people. His beam reflected off the dusty but still-glittering crystal segments of three enormous chandeliers; the dazzling reflections momentarily turned the huge theater into a disco. Jules recalled coming here as a young vampire and sitting nervously beneath one of those chandeliers, while on-screen Lon Chaney’s Phantom of the Opera dropped a similar chandelier onto the heads of an audience of opera patrons.

“Hey, Jules! Shine the light down at the floor. I think we may’ve found something for me better than just an apron.”

Jules played the flashlight beam into the empty floor space in front of the first row of seats, the area once reserved for a live orchestra. Off to both sides were portable clothing racks, holding what looked like musical theater costumes. He noticed that a banner had been hung from the front of the stage. He descended the stairs to the floor so he could read it.

“Hey, get a load of this: CELEBRATING AMERICA’S FAVORITE MUSICAL-singin‘ in the rain

– 45TH ANNIVERSARY.Looks like they’ve got a live stage show to go along with the movie.“

Doodlebug was already rifling through the costumes hanging from the racks. “These costumes are gorgeous! I recognize a lot of them from the musical numbers. Let’s see… here are outfits from ‘Be a Clown,’ ‘Good Mornin’,‘ of course ’Singin‘ in the Rain’… oh, howwonderful! This has to be one of my favorite movies of all time. Debbie Reynolds was simplyprecious!”

Jules took in Doodlebug’s enthusiasm with a jaundiced eye. If he didn’t put the brakes on, his friend could be trying on outfits until after sunrise. “Hurry up and pick one out, okay?”

“Ohhh… justlook at this beautiful dress,” Doodlebug said, running his hands across smooth white chiffon, apparently not hearing a word Jules had said. “I think Cyd Charisse wore one like it in the ‘Broadway Ballet’ number-”

Jules sighed in resignation. “Aww, go ahead, then. Have your fun. You’ve earned it after tonight, I guess. Actually, though you probably won’t believe it,Singin‘ in the Rain is one of my all-time favorites, too.”

“Really? I thought your taste runs more toward Jimmy Cagney gangster pictures.”

“Well, itdoes. But whenSingin‘ in the Rain came out, me and Maureen were havin’ one of our periodic fallin‘-out times. I’d always liked Gene Kelly-back then the girls used to tell me I looked like a taller Gene Kelly, see, only I didn’t know how to dance none-and anyway, I figured maybe seein’ a lighthearted musical might cheer me up some. So I went to see it; right here in this theater, in fact. And I loved it. The whole time I was watchin‘ it, see, I was imagining that Gene Kelly was me, and that Debbie Reynolds was Maureen. Shit, I musta watched that picture fifteen times before it left town. Some nights I’d imagine that Cyd Charisse was Maureen, instead of Debbie Reynolds, if I wanted a, y’know, a more spicy viewing experience.”

Doodlebug finished buttoning up a replica of one of Debbie Reynolds’s yellow-and-green summer dresses and then smoothed the cotton over his thighs. “Ahh, now I feelhuman again.” He cocked his head and squinted hard at his friend. “Say… I wouldn’t be at all surprised if that posthypnotic trigger I gave you helps tremendously with your multiple transformations. Care to see whether I’m right?”

Jules looked around him. “What? Here?”

“Why not? There’s plenty of room. It’s only 2:45A.M.; we wanted to wait a bit before heading back to the B-and-B, in any case. And I’m dying of curiosity-healing your own injuries may have speeded up your mastery of multiple forms by weeks, maybe months.”

“Eh, I dunno,” Jules said, staring at his feet and shuffling them some. “This has been a real ball-buster of a night. I mean, I’m exhausted as hell. Besides, the floor in here, it’s that sticky floor like what they got in all the old movie theaters. I might get all that floor stickiness mixed in with my slug-thingie, and then I could end up with monster acne, or somethin‘-”

Doodlebug, looking about as unconvinced as a vampire could be, planted his fists on his hips and slowly shook his head. “Excuses, excuses… it’sso important that you make the attempt right now, while that posthypnotic suggestion is still strong.”

“Well…”

“Look. We might never get another chance to put you over the top. I can’t stick around forever, Jules. I have responsibilities back home. And even if Icould stick around and help you forever, it wouldn’t be good for you. You need to fly solo.”

“No rest for the wicked,” Jules mumbled to himself from the floor in front of the movie screen. Before he had time for second thoughts, he repeated his trigger. Immediately, his mind was washed sparkling clean. Biology, physics-it was all instinctive to him now. His transformation into bat-form was the easiest he’d ever experienced. Disappointingly, his bat-shape was still as rotund and flightless as it had been for the last twenty or so years. As soon as he felt fully settled in his batness, he mentally probed the ether for the remainder of his mass. He gently pulled at it. Creating his wolf-form was as easy as filling a bucket from a hose.

The theater echoed with the sound of applause. Even though it was just Doodlebug clapping, to Jules’s four extraordinarily sensitive ears, it sounded like the Rockettes doing a tap number just above his heads. “Oh, Jules! You’ve done it! I knew you could! Iknew you could!”

It had been so easy, so painless and effortless, that it took the two Juleses a few seconds to recognize what he’d accomplished. Bat-Jules and Wolf-Jules stared at one another, almost disbelievingly. He saw himself, and he saw himself seeing himself, and he saw himself seeing himself see himself. It was dizzying, like being in a fun house hall of mirrors.

His wolf-self had an overwhelming desire to sniff his bat-self up close and personal. This was so exciting! Wolf-Jules gazed deep into Bat-Jules’s black, beady little eyes and admired the lively, curious intelligence there.Sure, maybe the little winged guy’s a bit rounder than he should be, but just look at that terrific wingspan!

Bat-Jules was hardly less admiring of his fellow.He’s so noble looking! And lovable! No wonder that bitch in Baton Rouge found me irresistible!

Wolf-Jules nudged Bat-Jules with his nose as he was sniffing him. The resulting sensory feedback loop-his touching himself touch himself touching himself, ad infinitum-overloaded both of Jules’s brains. His concentration shattered. Both of Jules’s bodies devolved into pools of proto-matter before vanishing in clouds of fleshy mist.