The alarm went off at 4:45 AM.

Thane nearly tore it off the wall.

Gabriel sat straight up in his motel bed like a horror movie jump-scare. “TV TIME! I need coffee, pants, and maybe a prayer.”

Cassie groaned into her pillow. “You’d better be joking about the pants.”

By 5:15, the Feral Eclipse crew looked… less than glamorous. Gabriel was trying to slick back his fur with hotel conditioner. Thane was in full silent murder-mode. Mark had sunglasses on indoors. Jonah wore one sock and a hoodie that said “Don’t Talk to Me Until the Encore.”

They piled into the van, half-dead. The streets were still dark.


The TV station looked like it had been built inside a former dentist’s office. Their green room was actually a beige hallway with a vending machine and a fake plant.

A perky intern handed them clip-on mics and a printout that said:

“WELCOME LOCAL ACOUSTIC ROCK BAND ‘FERRET ECSTASY’!!”

Maya: “I’m burning this place down.”

Gabriel: “No no no. We lean in. We’re Ferret Ecstasy now. This is our life.”

Cassie wheezed. Jonah tried to make a new logo on a napkin. It involved whiskers.

The host—Cheryl With a C—was a woman in a fuchsia blazer with energy levels illegal before sunrise. She met them in the studio with an aggressive handshake and a high-pitched squeal.

“You guys are the wolfboys, right? You look so REAL!”

Thane: “We are real.”

Cheryl blinked. “…Okay! Love the commitment!”


🎤 “Live on Channel 9 – Wake Up, Waffles, and Werewolves!”

The segment started with cheerful jazz. The camera panned to Cheryl, smiling like a cartoon news anchor.

“Welcome back to Good Morning Corner County! Today we have a treat for you—joining us is a band called Ferret—sorry, Feral Eclipse!”

The band, all squeezed onto a couch meant for three people, nodded in varying degrees of discomfort.

Cheryl turned to Thane. “So, you’re the lead singer?”

Cassie coughed.

“No,” Thane said, voice flat. “Sound tech. I make the chaos audible.”

“Oh!” She turned to Cassie. “Then you’re the lead singer?”

Cassie gave her best fake smile. “Accidentally, yes.”

Cheryl beamed. “And you all dress like this for every show?”

Gabriel leaned in, still caffeinating. “Ma’am, this is us. We don’t dress up. We dress down for breakfast.”

Cheryl did not know how to respond.

Then came the “live performance.”

They were given exactly one powered speaker, two clip-on mics, and a guitar amp the size of a lunchbox.

Maya strummed once. The speaker made a phhhfft noise. Jonah tapped a practice pad. Gabriel tried to hit a bass note, but the mic clipped so hard it sounded like a bear coughing underwater.

Thane gave up and plugged one thing directly into the camera guy’s headphone jack.

Cassie leaned forward, grinning like she’d already accepted her fate.

“This one’s called Howlcore Breakfast.

It was the messiest, weirdest, quietest rendition of their usual chaos ever performed. Mark tried to hit the lights for a little flare and accidentally turned off the teleprompter.

The host read closing remarks from memory while the credits rolled—off-beat and off-kilter.

“That was Ferret Eclipse, everybody. Be sure to check them out at the Creech County Fair Battle of the Bands later this week! Stay tuned for local gardening tips and a segment on haunted doll repair!”

As soon as the cameras cut off, the band fled.


Everyone collapsed into the seats.

Jonah: “Did we just…?”

Gabriel: “Yes. Yes we did.”

Cassie: “I am never waking up before 9 AM again.”

Mark, deadpan from the back: “We survived. But the name Ferret Ecstasy will haunt us forever.”

Thane rubbed his eyes. “Someone find that napkin Jonah drew on. That’s our next shirt design.”