I stick my hand into the werewolf's mouth, palm grazing rows and rows of canines. Searching for a loose - Ah ha, got it. The tooth comes out clean, and white. Not enough glue, not enough paint. "Can we get some more yellow on this?" I toss the tooth at Mark. It dings off his forehead and hits the floor. "We're making a werewolf, not a telletubby." Mark paints a thin layer of yellow-ish brown on the tooth, the thickness of his glasses making his hazel eyes three sizes bigger, "Do telletubbys have teeth, Johnny?" "I don't know, maybe. They'd be even scarier if they had teeth." I laugh, walking over to our board filled with sketches and color swabs. Forty blissful years of this, of creating grizzly monsters and dazzling aleins for films. Mark and I started as kids, with clay and crayons. A dream come true... only the alarm is starting to blare. I'm gonna' have to wake up soon. "Done." He chucks it at me, the sharp tooth bouncing off my chest. Mark's satisfied grin says 'Payback' far clearer than words. I gently stick it back into the mask, petting it's fuzzy head with a soft smile. Mark and I are becoming as obsolete as the dinosaurs we use to make in the 80's. Special effects, green screen, James Cameron - They've put my dream on a timer. Who knew a movie about a bunch of giant blue people would stop me from doing what I love? "Hey, ground control to Major Johnny." Mark picks paint out of his nails, blinking at me with big owl eyes. "You alright, bud?" I pinch the bridge of my nose, laughing through another wave of dread. It's either laugh or cry, and I haven't cried since the ending of E.T. "Yeah, I'm alright, Marky Mark." "Don't call me that." He points a long, nimble artist finger at me. I can't imagine those artist hands typing away at a keyboard, or fixing a broken pipe. "And don't lie to me either. You look like you just watched E.T." Having a best friend is it's own kind of torture. I gently push at his shoulder, smiling at the indignant noise he lets out. Our werewolf stares down at us with an eerie sort of smile, like he's just one of the guys... Oh god, I'm losing my mind. "I'm was just thinking." I mutter, searching our messy table for wire. I need to start shaping our wolf's body. "Oh, yeah?" Mark hands me the wire, pulling up a few swabs of flannel we want to use for our wolf's shredded clothes. "That's dangerous." "Shut up." I laugh, and begin shaping it's shoulders. The molding will have to be light enough for the actor to wear for long hours without tiring. I frown, images of skin-tight blue body suits covered in dots assaulting my mind. I guess that's a lot easier, and cheaper, than what Mark and I do... "Seriously, if you're worrying about 'green screens' and 'Avatar' again I'll stick my head in Lassie's mouth." Lassie is our werewolf. It's a placeholder name for our ferocious little pup. I sigh, looking to my friend. There's not a single weight on him. He's free of all this, of these thoughts of old dogs and new tricks. He looks as young and recklesss as he did when we made our first robot out of tinfoil and cardboard - He's facing extinction with a smile. "I'm..." I wrap my mind, trying to say anything other than- "I'm scared, Mark." Mark stops fiddling with Lassie's hand, his task of adding hair to the joints completely forgotten. He sets those huge eyes on me, and then I'm merely an ant under a magnifying glass. "I am too." His mouth twists with a wry grin, "I've always been scared of losing the dream. But the only thing that makes it all worth it, is _this_." He spreads his arms out, indicating our studio filled with fantastical beasts and tiny critters. He stands from his seat, laying a warm hand on my shoulder. "And this, hanging out with you like we're still kids. I don't live in the future. I live for right now, here, doing this." He shakes me, and with every shake more sense trickles into my head. Years and years of creating magic flashes before my eyes. Mark keeps me steady as a stone. Rooted right here, where our magic still exists. "Stop thinking about when it'll end. Everything ends. Just enjoy what we have right now. If this is our last hoorah, let's at least enjoy it, yeah?" And then, like releasing a building pressure, I sag. He shakes his head at me, going back to his job. Our job, making magic. I smile, getting my hands back on the wire. If this is all ending, if the alarm is only a few seconds from waking me up... at least I'll be able to say I made magic. "Now stop being such a buzzkill and turn on some music." I click the speaker on, and enjoy Mark's seizure style of dancing. The ridiculousness of it shocks a cackle out of me. He only goes harder, looking for more laughs. Ok, correction, at least I'll be able to say I made magic, with my idiot best friend.