by M. R. Holman
hands has brought you to a tremulous state! I can feel it, I can hear it in each ragged breath through your telephone!'
Obsequiam - 'Any ragged breath you hear is the stifle of raucous laughter begging to be released from my lungs, Irritatious! I expected more from you. I expected a real debate but you have provided none... Flippin' Frank Flidizzio is a talented merman baseballer, yes, but the best of the first half of the twentieth century? Pshaw!'
Irritatious - 'Pshaw?"
Obsequiam - 'Pshaw indeed, Irritatious! You have forgotten, disregarded, and in the process of doing so disrespected the baseballer whose name I am about to utter, whose name will echo through the earpiece of your phone and will haunt you for the rest of your days... Phlamin' Philip the Phoenix.'
Irritatious - *Gasps*
Obsequiam - 'That's right, Irritatious. While your lungs search for the air that I have rent from them with my baseball knowledge, and your brain seeks to recover from the jolt I have struck upon it like the hammer Mjölnir of Thor brings thunder upon the air, I will enlighten you about why Phlamin' Philip the Phoenix is the best baseballer of the first half of the twentieth century. You see - '
Bigfoot's ghost closed his eyes with satisfaction. How could he have forgotten...? Of course it was Phlamin' Philip the Phoenix! He felt ashamed, as a fan of the Cryptid Baseball League of North America, that he could have forgotten such an important player.
He closed the gargantuan book. He decided now that he was relieved of his mental burden of memory, he could read the rest of the play, and any others that he may want to peruse, in the comfort of his own creepy cave.
Bigfoot's ghost picked up the book and began to wind his way through the rows of bookshelves toward the staircase. He passed the centaur ghost once more, who hastily shoved the book ‘Centaur Love: A Paranormal Romance’ back onto the shelf, and blushed furiously in the particular way that only ghosts could blush.
"Hey, uhh, I'm sorry about walking through you earlier," Bigfoot's ghost said to the centaur’s ghost.
The centaur ghost met his eyes hesitantly and mumbled, "Not a problem... And I'm just... Not for me or anything... For a friend..." The ghostly centaur motioned toward the book half-heartedly.
Bigfoot's ghost winked and continued toward the staircase, his book under his luminescent arms. He approached the librarian's desk, and the ghostly sea serpent placed down his book.
"Library card, please," the librarian said, extending his claws across the tabletop.
"Of course," Bigfoot's ghost said, reaching between the folds of his pearlescent fur and extracting his wallet. He took out his library card and slid it across the table to the librarian.
"This is no good, Mr. Bigfoot," the librarian said, peering through his spectacles at the plastic card in his claws.
"What? No, I assure you that's me. You know me, I come in all the time..." Bigfoot's ghost said, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Yes, but I guess I have neglected to notice that this library card is out of date. You'll have to renew it," the librarian said, sliding the card across the table.
"Can you not let it slide...? Just this time?" Bigfoot's ghost asked hopefully, attempting to turn on the old Bigfoot charm he had not used in so long.
"I'm afraid I can't do that... It's the same library card you've been using since you were alive and it's over thirty years expired. You need a ghost cryptid library card... It'll only take a few minutes," the librarian said as he pushed a clipboard of paperwork toward Bigfoot's ghost.
Bigfoot's ghost sighed heavily and took the clipboard as the librarian began to read once more. He blazed through the paperwork, updating his address, profession, marital status, date of birth, and date of death. He pushed the clipboard back across the desk moodily.
"Step over to the booth for your new photo," the librarian said, rising from his seat and approaching a blue curtain with a small wooden chair and a camera mounted on a tripod in front of it.
"Is it really necessary to have a photo on a library card?" Bigfoot's ghost asked exasperatedly.
"I don't make the rules," the librarian gargled, his deep-sea accent growing even heavier. Bigfoot's ghost sat down on the tiny wooden chair in front of the blue backdrop. "Smile!" the librarian instructed. Bigfoot's ghost forced his numb face into a smile as the flash from the camera passed right through him.
The librarian grabbed the new library card as it was ejected from a small printer beside the camera. He handed it to Bigfoot's ghost and walked back to his chair behind his desk.
"Library card please," the librarian said as Bigfoot's ghost returned to the desk. It took a great deal of self-control for Bigfoot's ghost not to roll his eyes as he pushed his new library card across the desk. The ghostly sea serpent glanced at it and said, "This appears to be in order. Book, please."
Bigfoot's ghost put the enormous book of Snakespearean plays upon the desk. The librarian glanced at it and said in a matter-of-fact tone, "I'm sorry, sir. This book can't leave the library."
"What?" Bigfoot's ghost said in outrage.
"It's a reference book... A collection... It can't leave. You can stay and read it here if you wish. We'll be open for another hour."
"Why is it even in the library if it can't be checked out?" Bigfoot's ghost asked, bewildered. His ivory, see-through hair was standing on end.
"Once again, I remind you, I don't make the rules," the sea serpent ghost said lazily.
"Fine! I'll just download them and read them on my phone! That's what I should have done in the first place..." Bigfoot's ghost said in a harsh whisper.
The librarian shrugged and picked up their book again. Bigfoot's ghost turned around and began to walk briskly toward the door of the library.
"Well hey there, Bigfoot!" Edgar Price, the minotaur ghost said as he seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "Find what you were - "
"Not now, Edgar!" Bigfoot's ghost said impatiently, striding across the pavement toward the woods. He pulled his smart phone from a fold in his softly glowing fur and searched for an ebook collection of Snakespeare's plays. He was able to get every single one of them for the low price of ninety-nine crypto-cents. Sure, it was not quite the same as holding a real book, feeling the texture of the paper against his thumbs and smelling the musty scent of an old book, but he was a ghost now and he could not do those things anyways. Ebooks were not so bad after all, he decided.
Bigfoot's ghost read line after line of 'Some Ado About Literally Everything' as he gamboled through the woods toward his cave. He felt ashamed that he had been so rude with the librarian and the minotaur ghost, but there was not much he could do about that now. Bigfoot's ghost heard a twig snap, and he looked up from his phone in a panic. The living Bigfoot was staring at him from behind a tree trunk, and he was horror-struck.
"Wait, I can explain!" Bigfoot's ghost shouted as Bigfoot ran noisily through the forest in the opposite direction. At least he had not taken a picture, he thought. Bigfoot taking a picture of a ghost of Bigfoot... Bigfoot's ghost could only imagine the field-day the cryptid journalists would have with that story.
"What a night..." he said under his breath. Bigfoot's ghost pulled out his phone again, and lost himself once more in his ebook of Snakespeare's 'Some Ado About Literally Everything', hoping that it would take his mind from cryptid-ghostly matters and the cautious lifestyle that they precluded.
Some Ado About Literally Everything: A Play by William Snakespeare
Cast of Characters:
Dragon Narrator: Speaks in verse to the audience and introduces characters and concepts.
Obsequiam: A gargantuan evil sasquatch scientist. He lives in a laboratory and wears a white lab coat and dark goggles.
Obsequiam’s Clone: Referred to as Clone. An exact replica of Obsequiam, but with half of the mental capacity and a proclivity for odd inconsequential diversions.
Irritatious: An elf that works for a third party customer service call center at the North Pole.
Santa Claus: Supervisor of the thi
rd party customer service call center at the North Pole. He is omniscient.
Malevolid: Werewolf engineer employed by Destructomatic Incorporated. In love with Loretta.
Loretta: Shapeshifter. Extremely dark hair and eyes in human form. Delivery person for Destructomatic Incorporated.
Jackalope Dancing Troupe
Minotaur Marching Band
Sasquatch Choral Group of the Pacific Northwest
The North American United Cryptid Orchestra
Act 1 Scene 1
A Dragon stands alone in the center of the stage in front of the drawn curtain. She is the Narrator and speaks in poetic verse.
Dragon Narrator: Obsequiam was a foul sasquatch, & the terror of the wood. Day and night he dwelt within his lab and sought a purpose of no good. The Destructomatic 3400 is the weapon he will use. Will it be up to the horrific task, or will it blow another fuse? Obsequiam, horror foul, can you withstand an elf's tirade? Though he works in customer service, it is the customer which the elf berates. Obsequiam won't rest until he robs the universe of glow. That is, until Loretta the Shapeshifter, comes upon him in the form of a murder of black crows. Within his laboratory, his fur shone red and bright. Will he destroy the universe, or will he find love tonight? Obsequiam, will thou remain upon your sinister trail? I am here to spin you all, his strange and twisted tale.
Dragon Narrator exits. The curtain rises to reveal a sasquatch wearing a lab coat and darkened goggles with metal rims around the lenses.
