The fog and rain made the road a dangerous place, as the young lady discovered. Traction and visibility both piss poor, her sedan careened off the road and into a telephone pole. She sat in her car, waiting for roadside assistance. A howling gale shook the whole vehicle.

Oh, come on!

Exasperated, she takes a deep breath and starts to look at her phone. The battery life looks to be 2%, nothingness from her device looming ever closer. She opens Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, and fifteen other apps in quick succession, her frustration setting in.

They said they'd be here by now!

Her battery life shows 1%. She fidgets, sending five messages, Tweeting something about roadside assistance being awful, watching a video of a man hitting himself in the head with a box of popsicles in the most ironic fashion imaginable, and she dives into a game of solitaire. The battery ticks down, showing 0%, and her phone dies.

Great.

She rolls her eyes and plops the phone down in the passenger seat. As she does, something besides the wind howls as the clouds break, only for a moment, showing a full moon. Seconds later, the Wolfman is standing at her passenger window, menacing her with a glare. She shrieks. The Wolfman howls again, leaping atop the telephone pole and gripping it, pointing down at her.

Not so fast!

Robbie Bourbon, from seemingly out of nowhere, grips the telephone pole at its splintered base, precisely where the collision caused the massive pole to become severed. Robbie then hoists the pole, along with the Wolfman, and tosses it. It flips, end over end, making some good distance, before crashing to the ground, crushing the Wolfman.

Huh, that had to weigh much, much more than your average caber, along with the added weight of the Wolfman!

Robbie looks inside the crashed sedan. The woman steps out of the car, shaken by what she has seen.

Oh, hello! Are you having fun?

No! I crashed my car in the rain! Are you roadside assistance?

Robbie looks somewhat confused.

No, I'm Robbie.