My "Bigfoot Encounter"A Story by Creepy Swine GuyI know, I know ... but I wasn't drunk and it was really him!What I am about to give you is the honest to Beck, true account of my own personal experience. I’d been rainbow trout fishing in the wilderness for most of the day when I noticed that all of the anglers I’d been sharing the river with had left. The sinking sun made me think that I should begin the long trek back to my jeep so as to avoid making any portion of the walk in the black darkness of the Oregon night. The thickness of the trees around the walking trail made it feel darker and eerier than it should have at 4:45 in the evening, and so I was stepping briskly through the forest. The walk towards my jeep was quite disturbing, as I did not recall the unnatural silence of the woods on my way in to the river. As I approached a bend in the trail, I was certain that I heard the sounds of twigs breaking behind me. I whirled around quickly, assuming a fighting stance as though I believed that I would stand a sparrow’s chance against anything that might be stalking me in those woods. I scanned the trail behind me and the forest floor all around it, but didn’t see anything. Of course, the fact that I didn’t see anything didn’t convince my heart or my bladder that all was well, but nonetheless, I turned to resume my hike. That’s when I saw it. It was twelve feet tall if it was a foot. Before me stood a twelve-foot tall, ape-like creature with rusty brown, stringy hair and a head shaped like a football. It was a Bigfoot; a real live, honest to goodness Bigfoot. It took several minutes for me to realize that the high-pitched shrieking noise that was slicing my eardrums was in part, coming from me. When I finally stopped screaming like a girl, I realized that the hirsute behemoth was screaming, and recoiling in terror much the same as I was. This revelation triggered a rush of calmness and curiosity, which immediately stilled my fear. “What the hell are you afraid of?” I muttered to myself, but obviously loud enough to be heard. “Because you are one of the evil small ones.” The creature responded to my astonishment. “You can talk? … Wait, what do you mean … evil? We are not evil.” I protested indignantly. “Then why do you chase us?” “We want to get to know you. We would never hurt you. Besides you are enormous, how could we possibly harm you?” I answered, proudly pointing out the foolishness of his fear. “Oh you mean bigger than you like the black rhino or the Siberian Tiger or the Bison? You small ones kill eveything ... and you kill your own kind in greater numbers than any creature that’s ever walked the earth; why would we be foolish enough to believe that you wouldn’t kill us?” “So you avoid us intentionally?” “Besides being dangerous, you’re not at all pleasant to be around.” “Well you don’t smell very good.” I said a bit indignantly. “At least we don’t pee on our fur.” He said, pointing at my crotch. “You scared me.” I said in my own defense. “Nuclear weapons, global warning, deforestation, smog … and I scare you?” “May I take your photo? I just want to prove you are real.” “So the hunters and the zoologists can come? I don’t think so.” “How many of you are there?” “I don’t know, maybe a million.” “Really? How do you stay so well hidden?” “We come out after your bars close. That way, the people who see us assume they’ve had too much of your liquid spirits and they keep quiet. The ones who say something are written off as drunk or loony.” “Nice fish you’ve got there, I said, “How did you catch it?” “I scooped it from the water, how do you catch them?” “We use these,” I said holding up my fly rod proudly. “Where is your fish?” “Well, I just caught this one,” I said pulling a five pound fish from the back compartment of my vest. “It’s not as big as yours.” “I see,” he said with a condescending look. “Well,” I said “you will have a very nice fish dinner.” “This is not for me. This is for my neighbor, who cannot get his own food. The next fish that I catch will be mine.” “That’s nice of you.” “It’s our way, it’s in our blood. We cannot watch while another of our kind suffers. We feel compelled to help one another.” He never said … not like you humans … but the disdainful look that he gave me made the words so unnecessary. Suddenly I felt very inferior and wanted to be anywhere but where I was. “Here,” I said, offering my small fish. “Maybe this will help. I have to go now. It has been … nice … to meet you.” I hurried back to the parking area, opened the back hatch, took off my waders and vest, and put all my gear in the back. As I closed the back hatch and started around to the front of the Jeep, something caught my attention. It was the bumper sticker on the car parked next to me. It read … “Work harder! Millions on welfare depend on you.” © 2014 Creepy Swine GuyReviews
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StatsAuthorCreepy Swine GuyCentral, NYAboutThe Ten Commandments of the Writer's Cafe (King Swine Version). 1. Thou shalt not plagiarize. 2. Thou shalt not treat badly any writer based on their age, social status, ability or creative view.. more..Writing
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