The series kicks off with a sublime death scene of one of our favorite comedians turned movie stars turned superheroes (and also doubles as an incredible Delocated in-joke) that sets up the show’s simple premise with ease. Garrity, Vermont—but let’s just call it B&B Town, USA, okay?—is suddenly under werewolf attack and guess who they call in for reinforcements?

Neon Joe, the character—unsurprisingly—isn’t a stretch for Glaser by any means and is well within his enjoyable wheelhouse. He’s an uber exuberant, no filter, machismo cliché with Glaser taking to these attributes with unrestrained glee. He’s afflicted with tics (which I could not stop laughing at) and abbreving at an alarming speed, and even if this might be par for the course for him, you just can’t help but be happy watching Glaser running free in his own playground again. His ensemble might also seem pretty simplistic, but it’s surprisingly intricate with how much is put into it, right down to the bullet earring adorning him. Neon Joe’s introduction is one of the funnier Jaws subversions that I’ve seen. In fact, the entire series operates as a solid, modern Jaws allegory with Steve Cirbus (playing essentially his polar opposite from Delocated) as the police chief and voice of reason trying to work alongside Joe.

In spite of how ridiculous all of this is as Neon Joe’s Southern accent drawls on and he examines werewolf pubes, the show is shot with such a confident, stylized eye that helps sell all of this nonsense. A longstanding relationship has been built between John Lee, Vernon Chatman, and the rest of the PFFR crew with Glaser, and that degree of trust is clear here in the shorthand evident between everyone. They just know how to put out a polished, insane show at this point, whether it’s sprawling through a crowded Chinatown alley, a charming Misery parody (which is really, really fantastic), or navigating through a hacky sack massacre.

The series surprisingly even manages to add to the general werewolf lore in some interesting ways, such as the principle of shining an artificial moonlight flashlight on people that will reveal them to be werewolves being one such inventive idea. The topic is just a hair away from being overexposed in the way that other similar areas like zombies or vampires are, and Glaser and company make good use of this good will by bombarding the topic. As deeply silly as all of this is, you also can’t help but feel like Glaser spent a lot of time obsessing and daydreaming away about werewolves and how they work. That being said, part of the absolute joy of this mini-series is discovering that as much as this show is about werewolves, it is also most certainly not about werewolves (no further comment).

Like most good mini-series and pieces of storytelling that are delegated to so few parts, Neon Joe, Werewolf Hunter genuinely builds up a compelling mystery with each passing episode. These installments wisely go out on exciting cliffhangers that make you hungry for the next episode, which is not only the right strategy for binging something like this, but also the series’ one-episode-a-night schedule. Regardless of these larger machinations around the show though, pairing the show’s extreme absurdism with actual intrigue is a great combination here with a sick energy fueling these episodes to their uncanny finish line.