D. Gilson

The night Max wore his wolf suit made him infamous, bred the child star never sent to bed. Middle school, Max started drinking.Not in my house, his mother begged,No, no, no, wild thing. Max reminded her who bought this condo, who paid for her meds. Freshman year, Max raved. Roared his terrible roar, rolled, and almost wound up in a warehouse dead. Where, oh where, do the wild things go? To rehab in high school. To college on residual book sales. Max kept his head down. Laughed at drunken frat boys.Bro, let the wild rumpus start.

Berkeley psychologists told Harold his anger was justified. What parents let their child go for a midnight walk under no moon?I couldn’t have been more than four