www.washingtonpost.com Open in urlscan Pro
96.16.159.126  Public Scan

Form analysis
0 forms found in the DOM

Text Content

Accessibility statementSkip to main content
Search Navigation
Democracy Dies in Darkness

Subscribe

Sign in

Lifestyle
Advice
Food
Home & Garden
KidsPost
The Washington Post Magazine
Parenting
Travel
Well+Being
Inspired Life
Style


THAT RIPPED HOME DEPOT WEREWOLF HAS BECOME THE NEW HALLOWEEN FLEX


MOVE OVER, TALL BONES, AND MAKE ROOM FOR AN ANIMATRONIC, SUBLIMINALLY SEXY,
9-FOOT-TALL HOWLER WHO HAS MARKED HIS TERRITORY ON AMERICA’S FRONT LAWNS.

By Maura Judkis
October 27, 2022 at 10:08 a.m. EDT

Jill Houser’s Halloween display in Pittsburgh features a giant animatronic
werewolf. (Jeff Swensen for The Washington Post)
Listen
11 min
Comment on this story
Comment
555
Gift Article
Share

Angela Rush already has the 12-foot Home Depot skeleton, and a whole bunch of
regular-size ones, too. She has a nearly full-size hearse carriage drawn by
skeleton horses, a massive tarantula, a 12-foot pumpkin-headed “inferno”
skeleton, a dragon and numerous light up pumpkins. She has so many Halloween
decorations that she has to rent a storage unit, and each year she must hire a
moving truck to bring them all to her home. She didn’t need anything else.



“My Halloween decorating has gotten so kind of out of hand that I’m like, I’m
not doing it anymore,” says Rush, 51, who lives in Augusta, Ga. She resolved not
to be tempted by any other plastic ghouls or goblins. Even if they were on sale.

That was until she found out about the Home Depot’s new 9½-foot animatronic
werewolf. “I was like, ‘Hold on. Halloween’s back on.’”

Advertisement

Story continues below advertisement



She saw him and she had to buy him: A beefy, sinewy wolfman with massive hands
(paws?), glowing eyes and, under his shredded buffalo-check shirt, six-pack abs.
Best of all, and unlike his skeletal brethren, he talks and moves: With a growl,
he opens his mouth to reveal a row of sharp fangs, tilts his head back and …
aroooooooooo!

Rush bought the $399 werewolf on “Orange Friday,” which is what the most
dedicated of Halloween decorators call the day Home Depot makes its Halloween
decorations available online for purchase. This year, that day was July 15, when
normal people are, well, what’s normal anymore?



“I was so excited when I got him that I set him up in my house,” says Rush,
which was almost a problem when the werewolf couldn’t fit through the door, and
had to be disassembled again. But she loves him. Her teenage son loves him.
Everybody loves him, except her two huskies, who regard him with suspicion.



“They just stare at it,” says Rush. “And it’s funny, ’cause they howl like he
does.”

Two years ago, Home Depot made a skeleton taller than God and changed Halloween
forever. How do you follow that up? Not with a talking skeleton (too
predictable) or a taller skeleton (may topple in high winds), but by expanding
into an entire multiverse of giant spooky creatures: There is now a witch who
appears to fly on a 12-foot broomstick, and a 15-foot phantom. But it’s the
werewolf who seems to have become the breakout hit.

“People are used to the skeletons now. They’ve seen all of that. And this is
something different,” says Jill Houser, 48, who has an elaborate werewolf
campsite complete with a tent and body parts set up in her Pittsburgh front
yard.



Jennifer Corcoran, 44, of Nashville, is the moderator of several Facebook groups
dedicated to large-scale holiday decorating, including a 50,000-member, 12-foot
skeleton group. Rumors began bubbling up that the werewolf would be part of the
store’s Halloween lineup, but it was a tightly guarded secret.

Until some photos from a Home Depot conference leaked last spring. Right as
Corcoran was at the hospital being prepped to go under anesthesia for back
surgery.

“I sent it over to Lance” — that would be Lance Allen, the director at Home
Depot responsible for the brand’s pantheon of giants, with who she is now on a
first-name basis — “and was like, is this legit?” says Corcoran. It was, he
confirmed. A nurse came to take her phone and wheel her into surgery.

“I remember the nurse’s face,” says Corcoran. “I was like, ‘No there’s a
werewolf coming! I have to post this.’ ”



“We all were like rabid fiends trying to get it,” says Holly Agouridis, 50, of
her fellow Facebook group haunters. “I do kind of a cornfield-type scene on one
of my [yard] sections, and I was like, ‘He’s definitely going to go there.’ ”
The kids in her Silver Spring neighborhood have named him “Howie the Howler.”

Gregory McAdams, 48, is a big werewolf guy — “I actually just had a werewolf
tattoo put on my arm Wednesday” — who counts “The Wolfman” among his favorite
movies. So the prospect of a werewolf joining his 12-foot skeleton was pretty
thrilling. He posed his in front of his Nashua, N.H., home holding two halves of
a (normal-size) skeleton — the head and torso in one paw, the pelvis and legs in
another — as if to denote the new hierarchy of Halloween. The werewolf had
surpassed what was formerly his favorite decoration. “He’s my number one now,”
says McAdams.

Advertisement

Story continues below advertisement



Over in Waltham, Mass., Billy Gridley, 47, ordered one online, and then ordered
a backup wolf to be shipped to the store, just in case something went wrong.

“It was such a big deal that I was kind of nervous that I wasn’t going to be
able to get ahold of one,” he says. But the first one arrived safe and sound, so
he canceled his second order.

“We got it all set up and everything worked great, except it had two left hands,
he says. “I was like, you have to be kidding me.”

So he made a trek to another Home Depot to pick up what would be his third wolf
order, “And lo and behold, that one had two right hands,” says Gridley, now the
owner of a complete werewolf (he swapped the hands and returned one).




Other werewolf mishaps did not end quite as harmoniously. Unfortunately for Jim
Nelson and his 6-year-old-daughter Evelyn, the werewolf (named “Mr. Howly”)
arrived broken, with his jaw detached from his head. Not to worry: “I made a
muzzle for him,” says Nelson, 41, of Erie, Pa. “I cut up an old leather belt and
then just kind of glued it on his head.”

And not everyone has been so keen. Melissa Hayden, 52, of Pittsboro, N.C., has a
neighbor who complained to her homeowners association about her werewolf, whom
she loves.

“They said it was too scary” for their grandchildren,” says Nelson, who was
flummoxed. She’s one of those people who keep their 12-foot skeleton up all year
round, dressing him up in costumes for every holiday, “in my yard 24/7, 365 days
a year.” The neighbors had never complained about that.




Werewolves occupy a particular place in the horror genre, says Bryan Fuller,
writer and executive producer of numerous television shows, including “Hannibal”
and “Pushing Daisies,” and also a proud Home Depot werewolf owner. They’re a
metaphor for there being “something inside of me that I can’t control, i.e. my
sexuality. If I let it out, bad things will happen,” says Fuller, whose werewolf
was a birthday gift from his partner.

Werewolves “can hide who they are, until they can’t. And so the idea of having
this giant werewolf in the middle of a queer person’s yard means a little bit
more than just a fuzzy monster from a horror movie,” says Fuller, who is also
the producer of the documentary series “Queer for Fear: The History of Queer
Horror.” “It has all of this kind of sociopolitical resonance that is important
to me.”

Part of the reason the werewolf is a hit also may be that it’s an underrated
monster. There aren’t that many werewolf movies — “The Wolfman,” “An American
Werewolf in Paris” and “Werewolf of London” — and werewolves are often relegated
to supporting characters, as in the “Twilight” movies. Or, they’re written for
laughs, like the werewolves of “What We Do in the Shadows” (“We’re werewolves,
not swearwolves!”), especially when the werewolf’s transformation is a metaphor
for puberty: Think “Teen Wolf,” or “Werewolf Bar Mitzvah,” one of the greatest
bits in “30 Rock.”

“The horror of losing control of your body and having it be taken over by your
bestial self is something so terrifying,” says Fuller, “It comes full circle
around to humor.”



But, well, while we’re on the topic of sexuality: The werewolves seem to have
attracted an audience beyond Halloween decorators. You know who else loves the
werewolf? Furries. For the uninitiated, furries are a subculture of people who
are interested in anthropomorphic animal characters, conceptually and, for some,
romantically.

When she saw the 9½-foot werewolf, “I was like, wow, this is really hot,” says a
29-year-old who asked to go by the name of her vTube persona, which is Buffpup,
a buxom werewolf. The Home Depot wolf has “a nice butt,” she says, and strong,
muscular arms. She jokingly calls him her boyfriend, though she does have a
real, human boyfriend. Even though Buffpup knows Home Depot would never admit
it, she suspects the werewolf may have been designed with furries in mind.

“I think people realize how much money they can make off of furries because
they’re a big-spending type of group,” she says.

Advertisement

Story continues below advertisement



And it’s not just the furries! Corcoran, the leader of the Halloween Facebook
groups, found herself moderating a discussion about the werewolf’s, ahem,
physique, under those shredded pants. Turns out, a lot of people wanted to know
what he looked like naked. “We talkin’ Ken doll?” asked one group member. “Would
it be inappropriate for me to ask if you can send me some nudes of the
werewolf?” another asked Corcoran. (For the record: Ken Doll. With plastic
bas-relief hair.)

This summer, Troy Sager found himself “really drooling over that werewolf,” but
listen, not in that way. Sager, 54, of Arthur, N.D., wanted to add to his
collection of spooky decor, which he enhances with a few DIY elements. Sager
took a mannequin half-torso, dressed it with pants, used spray foam to simulate
entrails, and covered the whole thing in splattered blood, splaying it out at
the wolf’s feet.

“It looks like the werewolf kind of had a little meal,” he says. A day-care
center down the street allegedly brought the kids by to check out his display,
which also includes a 12-foot skeleton and an Inferno, and he didn’t hear any
screaming. “I’m sure a lot of them enjoyed it,” he says.




Houser employed similar techniques for her elaborate werewolf campsite. Branded
“Camp Carnage,” her talking wolf holds a battered body and a fistful of foam
guts. He’s joined by another, smaller, stationary werewolf and a zombie
mannequin that Houser covered in fur, emerging from a tent: “He’s transitioning.
He’s still a person but turning into a werewolf,” she says.

Meanwhile, in Rantoul, Ill., Nikia Hults, who had gone to every Home Depot
within a 2½-hour radius of her home and crossed state lines to get her wolf (“We
just call him Wolfie”), enlisted her mother-in-law to sew him a new outfit. She
picked out some neon green fabric — “I thought green would kind of set him off
and kind of make everything cohesive” — and Wolfie got a brand-new size XXXL
shirt.

Other werewolf parents have done creative displays with Three Little Pigs or
Little Red Riding Hood themes. Next year, Corcoran thinks even more people will
branch out into elaborate werewolf displays: Expect “Thriller” werewolves, Teen
Wolves, and, from “30 Rock” fans who want to play to a niche audience, wolves
wearing yarmulkes.

Over at Fuller’s house in the Silver Lake neighborhood of Los Angeles, the
werewolf is situated in a graveyard scene beyond his driveway. He struggled
putting his wolf together. For a while, it was just a pair of disembodied legs,
which was both spooky and funny in its own way.

But once he was assembled, Fuller has enjoyed returning home from late nights at
work to be greeted by the blinking eyes of Kevin. That’s his werewolf’s name.
Most of the time, he’s just a regular dude, says Fuller, except when the moon is
full. “There’s something funny about calling a werewolf Kevin.”

Advertisement

Story continues below advertisement


555 Comments
GiftOutline
Gift Article
More stories from the Style section
HAND CURATED
 * Gisele Fetterman, forging on through her husband’s heated Senate race
   October 19, 2022
   
   
   Gisele Fetterman, forging on through her husband’s heated Senate race
   October 19, 2022
 * Everyone who’s won this seat in Congress has gotten divorced afterward
   October 21, 2022
   
   
   Everyone who’s won this seat in Congress has gotten divorced afterward
   October 21, 2022
 * That ripped Home Depot werewolf has become the new Halloween flex
   October 27, 2022
   
   
   That ripped Home Depot werewolf has become the new Halloween flex
   October 27, 2022

View 3 more stories

Loading...

Subscribe to comment and get the full experience. Choose your plan →


View more

Loading...
Company
 * About The Post
 * Newsroom Policies & Standards
 * Diversity and Inclusion
 * Careers
 * Media & Community Relations
 * WP Creative Group
 * Accessibility Statement

Get The Post
 * 
 * Become a Subscriber
 * Gift Subscriptions
 * Mobile & Apps
 * Newsletters & Alerts
 * Washington Post Live
 * Reprints & Permissions
 * Post Store
 * Books & E-Books
 * Newspaper in Education
 * Print Archives (Subscribers Only)
 * e-Replica
 * Today’s Paper
 * Public Notices

Contact Us
 * Contact the Newsroom
 * Contact Customer Care
 * Contact the Opinions team
 * Advertise
 * Licensing & Syndication
 * Request a Correction
 * Send a News Tip
 * Report a Vulnerability

Terms of Use
 * Digital Products Terms of Sale
 * Print Products Terms of Sale
 * Terms of Service
 * Privacy Policy
 * Cookie Settings
 * Submissions & Discussion Policy
 * RSS Terms of Service
 * Ad Choices

washingtonpost.com © 1996-2022 The Washington Post
 * washingtonpost.com
 * © 1996-2022 The Washington Post
 * About The Post
 * Contact the Newsroom
 * Contact Customer Care
 * Request a Correction
 * Send a News Tip
 * Report a Vulnerability
 * Download the Washington Post App
 * Policies & Standards
 * Terms of Service
 * Privacy Policy
 * Cookie Settings
 * Print Products Terms of Sale
 * Digital Products Terms of Sale
 * Submissions & Discussion Policy
 * RSS Terms of Service
 * Ad Choices









THE WASHINGTON POST CARES ABOUT YOUR PRIVACY

We and our partners store and/or access information on a device, such as unique
IDs in cookies to process personal data. You may accept or manage your choices
by clicking below, including your right to object where legitimate interest is
used, or at any time in the privacy policy page. These choices will be signaled
to our partners and will not affect browsing data.


WE AND OUR PARTNERS PROCESS DATA TO PROVIDE:

Actively scan device characteristics for identification. Select basic ads. Store
and/or access information on a device. Create a personalised ads profile. Select
personalised ads. Create a personalised content profile. Select personalised
content. Measure ad performance. Measure content performance. Apply market
research to generate audience insights. Develop and improve products. View list
of partners

I accept Manage cookies