by Simon Okill
"Sheriff Lou could do with a hunk of real wood," she said with a devious smirk. "Something maybe you can't offer."
Willis' eyes narrowed as he slowly put down his glass of prune juice. "Don't push it, Candice."
Merlot hesitated for a moment. She knew she was treading a thin line when Willis called her by that name.
"Take this anyway you like, Willis, but if you don't do her then I'm sure Duane will." She gave her partner a cheeky grin and showed her cell phone.
Willis didn't reply straight away. His cheeks turned a bright pink, a clear indication that he was getting riled. "If you were a man, I'd deck you."
Merlot feigned fear, putting her hands up in defense. "Please don't whip me, massah . . . I'll be a good slave, massah," she said in her " Roots" voice.
The entire room went ominously quiet. All the guests stopped what they were doing to look at the feuding FBI agents. Startled murmurings emanated from the wide-eyed audience. Hushed words were spoken in Japanese, because most of the guests were Japanese.
Willis glared at Merlot, whispering harshly, "Keep it down, Candice." He picked up his glass of prune juice and took another sip. He licked his lips savoring his drink as if nothing had just happened.
"Looks like it's gonna be another shi . . . uh, fine day," Willis commented.
Despite the verbal fracas, Merlot couldn't stop herself from saying, "It's gotta be love, Willis."
Willis didn't reply. He just quietly sipped his prune juice and looked coolly at Merlot over the rim of his glass.
32
AN EXHAUSTED DUANE returned home that morning. He hoped his Bigfoot friends had left the place in a decent state as he was not in the mood for a cleanup. He propped up his Harley and removed his Bigfoot helmet.
Wearing his freshly laundered Bigfoot duds, minus the head which was strapped to the back of his bike, he entered his cabin by the front door and stopped in his tracks.
He shook his head and muttered, "How many times have I told them not to do that?"
Duane looked all around at the Bigfoot handprints, made from flour, on the walls and ceiling of the living area. Bigfoot footprints completely covered the floor, leading from the kitchen then back into it. The pantry!
Of course, Teeelaaa might still be home and sound asleep and had forgotten to clean up after their party.
"Teeelaaa, I'm home." He gave the come-hither whistle.
No reply. All was silent.
It occurred to him that they could still be inside sleeping. Bigfoot liked to sleep a lot, more so in the winter when the temperature dropped and there was snow on the ground and less food to forage. Though they didn't hibernate as long as bears, they did sleep, huddled together for warmth for very long periods. The longest Duane had measured was one week.
He wondered if they'd found his stash of water in the crawl space above the pantry. He didn't mind them getting loaded but they had a habit of throwing up and totally trashing the place-like now. Maybe Maaawooo had thrown a hissy fit when he had discovered Duane had tricked him.
Oh, what the hell! He gave a big yawn as he trudged into the kitchen. Shit! He stared aghast at the remains of his kitchen, the missing rear door and the space where the pantry used to be. He could clearly see where his friends had scraped their butts along the wooden floor leaving a trail of thick goo. And yet he couldn't feel angry. It was just play to Bigfoot, and they loved to play.
Duane was feeling hungover and exhausted from spending the night pleasing the Bumsen Sisters. They'd drained him of his manly juices. He realized that just like his Bigfoot friends, the Bumsen Sisters took advantage of his good nature. They just won't take no for an answer, even when he told them he couldn't get it up for the fourth time in one night. Maybe if the sisters weren't such vigorous lovers he wouldn't feel so exhausted, but they liked to do a lot of active stuff.
Duane gave another big yawn. He was looking forward to some quality sack time, and if Duane had been wide awake and not thinking about getting some Zs he might have sensed danger when he had entered his cabin, but he didn't sense danger because it would never occur to him to expect danger here.
Duane sauntered back into the living room looking around at the empty bottles of tequila on the floor.
He called out, "Teeelaaa, Maaawooo, Olaaa-anyone here?"
No reply. All was silent.
Duane listened to the silence. A perplexed look came over his face. The hairs on the back of his neck started to prickle and his stomach started to gurgle. But Duane was tired and hungover. He wasn't paying too much attention to the prickles on the back of his neck and his gurgling stomach that was telling him something was wrong. His bleary eyes didn't see the heavy boot prints mixed with Bigfoot prints.
From somewhere in the cabin he heard floorboards creaking. He gave another frown. It crossed his mind that Teeelaaa was playing hide and seek. She loved that game. All Bigfoot loved to play hide and seek. It helped to hone their skills at evading capture.
Duane heard another creak.
Suddenly the door to the bedroom swung open, and there standing in the doorway was that big bully of a bear, Walt Flucker, brandishing a rifle at a startled and alarmed Duane.
"Shit, Walt, I almost crapped my pants." Duane blew out air and breathed deeply. "What the fuck're you doing here?"
Walt sauntered into the room looking mean and tough. He wasn't alone.
Chuck and Bob emerged from behind him with rifles at the ready.
Duane suddenly felt a bit queasy at the sight of his unwelcome visitors. Not that he thought they had plans to take pot shots at him, but more than likely they planned on roughing him up. It had happened before. And no doubt Chuck and Bob were looking to even the score for what he'd done to them the previous day in the woods.
Duane smiled amiably, in the vain hope that if he gave them one of his amiable smiles they'd change their minds about roughing him up. It sometimes worked.
Walt narrowed his eyes. "Where's my boy, Beau?" He snarled like a grizzly.
"How the fuck should I know?" Duane shrugged.
Walt took a few menacing steps closer to Duane. "Don't believe you, asshole." He looked around the living room and wrinkled his nose with disgust. "Something weird's going on here . . . and what's that God awful smell?" Walt sniffed the pungent air. "It ain't skunk and it ain't grizzly shit." Walt glared at Duane, "That stink's gotta be you . . . and anything that smells that bad's gotta be guilty of something."
Duane decided to play the innocent—something he was good at doing, and took a big sniff. He got a faint waft of air freshener, but even he had to admit the place smelt bad with Bigfoot body odor.
Duane chuckled and sniffed his armpits, "Maybe it's you."
Walt's face darkened. "You asshole!" he shouted. He aimed his rifle at Duane's head. "You're gonna get it for sure if you don't tell me where you've stashed Beau."
All of a sudden there was a loud growl as Maaawooo stood in the doorway behind Duane.
"Raaaaarrrraaaarrrrraaaaarrrr."
Duane looked over his shoulder and saw his Bigfoot buddy.
He muttered under his breath, "Just fucking great."
What was Maaawooo doing here? How was he going to explain him to Walt and the other two idiots?
Walt narrowed his eyes and looked at the menacing Bigfoot, standing at least seven feet tall. He walked towards the Bigfoot without showing any fear.
"Is that you Beau?" Walt asked without much conviction. Beau wasn't that tall.
Maaawooo growled a big ferocious growl at Walt and the two hunters. He showed his yellowed teeth.
"Rrrrraaaaaarrrrrraaaaarrrrrraaaaa."
Walt must be fucking blind drunk if he can't see that Maaawooo is a real Bigfoot, thought Duane.
"Uh, Walt . . . I wouldn't get too close if I were you," he warned, knowing that Maaawooo had a strong dislike of men with guns and had a justifiable grudge towards them.
Not that Maaawooo or any Bigfoot that he knew went about the place pouncing on peopl
e and having them for dinner, like some grizzlies he knew. Bigfoot were generally peaceful creatures, and didn't like to get into fights, but Maaawooo always had a bit of temper and like all Bigfoot-a long memory.
Undeterred, and no doubt still thinking the big creature in front of him was a mock-up, Walt continued to advance on Maaawooo. He came to a stop in front of the big creature.
Maaawooo scowled at the rifle in Walt's hand and growled a low menacing growl, "Rrrraaarrrr."
With one swift yank, Maaawooo tore the rifle from a surprised Walt's grasp. With his massive hands, Maaawooo bent the rifle in two and tossed it onto the floor.
It must be obvious to Walt by now that the big creature could not be a mock-up, mused Duane.
Walt looked at the bent rifle on the floor and stepped back a pace.
He shook his head in fear and disbelief, spluttering, "No fucking way, man . . . I-i-i-it can't be." He began to whimper.
This could get ugly, thought Duane as he saw Chuck and Bob take aim at Maaawooo. Teeelaaa got up from behind the sofa and quietly crept behind Chuck and Bob.
Chuck and Bob dropped their guns and squealed as Teeelaaa picked them up by the scruff of the neck.
Teeelaaa let out a ferocious growl, "Rrrraaaarrrrraaaarrrr."
Duane shook his head, "You'll never learn, Walt."
"L-l-l-earn w-w-what?" Walt stammered in terror for his life.
Duane casually raised the trapdoor to the basement. He whistled to Maaawooo and Teeelaaa to bring the three assholes down into the basement.
SOME TWENTY MINUTES LATER Walt and his buddies were back to back on the basement floor, trussed up like turkeys. All three whimpered, struggling to get free.
The overhead light was dim and cast dark shadows into the corners of the room, but Walt could see the two Bigfoot looming over him with snarling faces.
Duane sat on a chair facing them. He thought the situation called for him to act mean. But he knew that Walt and his buddies wouldn't think him capable of doing anything unpleasant to them. So Duane scratched his butt-it worked-he had a brainwave-he would act the good guy. His two Bigfoot friends would play the bad guys.
Maaawooo and Teeelaaa stood behind him, looking menacing. They were already in bad guy character, and didn't need any directions on his part.
In fact, Duane sensed that Maaawooo was in a very bad mood and not just because of Walt and his buddies. Maaawooo was sorely displeased with him-Duane-o.
Duane guessed that after he'd left to go into town last night his Bigfoot friends must have gone looking for more booze. Duane pondered the matter for some moments and came to the conclusion that he must have forgotten to lock the pantry door. After finishing scratching his butt, he realized that Maaawooo would want some real tequila to get his harem of Bigfoot babes in the mood for some serious three-way woooo-woooo.
Duane made a promise to himself that after he'd sorted things out with Walt and his buddies, he'd give Maaawooo three bottles of the real thing.
"First things first . . . let me introduce you to Maaawooo and Teeelaaa . . . hmm, friends of mine."
Walt looked fearfully at the Bigfoot.
But Chuck and Bob didn't look fearful at all as they craned their necks to get a better look. They had amused looks on their faces.
"Nice tits," Chuck chuckled.
Teeelaaa growled at Chuck.
"Are they . . . you know . . . for real?" Walt asked with a tremor of fear in his voice.
Duane shrugged, "Come on Walt . . . we all know Bigfoot doesn't exist . . . and yet, if they don't exist, then who are these two cuddly critters in the basement with us right now?"
Maaawooo growled a big growl at Walt and his buddies and took a few menacing steps towards them. He stomped his foot down in a suggestive way.
Bob shook his head. He gave the Bigfoot a skeptical look.
"You ain't for real. No such fucking thing as Bigfoot."
"Yeah, if they was real, we would have shot one by now," Chuck said.
"Yeah, you could both be right," Duane agreed.
"I say they are fucking real," Walt insisted with eyes wide in terror. "Shit . . . haven't I always said Bigfoot exists?"
Chuck laughed at his gullible friend. "Yeah, well, I say they ain't for real. It's typical of you, Walt, to think this furry piece of shit is genuine." He gave Maaawooo a mocking look then looked at Walt. "Tell me again, Walt, what did those sexy Swedish-looking female aliens do to you?"
Walt gave his companion a nasty look. He struggled to be free of his restraints. "Shut your stupid fucking mouth," he sneered.
Duane smiled as he listened to Walt's and Chuck's discord, "Now, now boys." He pointed to Maaawooo. "You don't want to upset these guys more than you already have."
"You can let us fucking go any time you want," Walt snarled. "If you don't, I'm gonna rip you a new one."
Of course, Duane knew he'd have to let them go. There was no choice. He gave Walt and his companions a keen look.
"You can't go to the sheriff . . . she'll lock you up for trespass with intent."
Walt thought for a moment, "That's true, but there's no reason we can't tell the press about your Bigfoot friends."
It occurred to Duane that no one would believe Walt, no matter how true his story might be, not after his alien abduction tales.
"Who's gonna believe you?" Duane asked. "I'll tell you who-no one."
Walt nodded his head yes in agreement, "Huh, that's also true, damn it."
Maaawooo gave another growl. He took a step forward with a thunderous stomp. His immense size cast a shadow over Walt and his buddies.
Walt looked fearfully up at Maaawooo, "Please, don't hurt me."
"Please, don't hurt me," Chuck mimicked in a teasing voice with a snigger.
Then Maaawooo did something strange, something that not even Duane would have figured. Maaawooo leaned real close, face-to-face with Walt and sniffed him. He sniffed Walt all over then as a final insult, kissed Walt on the cheek. Maaawooo waved Teeelaaa to have a go. She did the same. Both Bigfoot stepped back and mewed.
Duane frowned at his Bigfoot friends and wondered what they were up to.
"They must love you, Walt," Bob chuckled.
"Okay, I'll let you three go," Duane said with a smile. "But be warned, if you ever go after Maaawooo or his Bigfoot friends, I'll let Maaawooo do what he wants to you." Duane laughed as he started for the stairs.
"What the fuck, Duane? You said you'd let us go," Walt pleaded desperately.
Duane waved to the three butt holes tied up in his basement and exited with a chuckle, "Be seeing you."
"You fucking asshole," Walt shouted just as Maaawooo gripped his thruster and pissed all over them.
33
A LITTLE OVER AN HOUR LATER, a thoroughly hungover MB was crouched behind some thickly tangled brambles with his listening gear attached to his ears. The sound of heavy feet had piqued his interest.
MB used his hands to spread a hole in the thicket and peered into the forest. His eyes bulged almost from their sockets. He told himself what he was looking at wasn't real.
Trees and undergrowth partly obscured his view of the tall Bigfoot as it strode across the small meadow.
It had to be Duane-o, he thought.
MB was quick to notice the wild flowers behind the Bigfoot's ears and a string of dog rose around its neck. Who else could it be, but Duane-o?
But something was different about Duane's Bigfoot costume. It was a different color-it was a reddish foxy color and streaked with golden flashes with a golden flash down its snout. The hair appeared to look like real hair, not the lifeless fur on Duane's costume, and quite fluffy and rippled with muscular movements. There was also very little hair on the creature's face which, to MB, seemed very feminine, almost attractive. He frowned as he seemed to recognize the face. He concluded that his friend had bought fancy new duds and had given them to a female friend of his. Most of all, MB noticed the large breasts swinging free.
MB started
to film the creature with his camcorder, but as he aimed his directional microphone at the Bigfoot, a perplexed look came over his face.
It wasn't just the color of the costume that was different-the Bigfoot had a different stride. It was a smooth, fluid stride, but a heavy stride, as if the creature was heavier in weight-much heavier than a human. And something else bothered him—the strides seemed further apart and the Bigfoot didn't lean forward as if it couldn't lock its knees in an upright position, as was the consensus of opinion. These Bigfoot walked like humans. And something else bothered MB-Duane just wasn't that tall.
The Bigfoot stopped walking to pick some flowers.
MB wondered if someone else was masquerading as Bigfoot, apart from himself and Duane, but no one came to mind. MB excitedly concluded that the hairy creature was a real Bigfoot, or miserably concluded some newcomers had trespassed into the woods for reasons unknown.
Another Bigfoot suddenly stepped out from behind some trees at the edge of the meadow and walked over to the female Bigfoot, carrying a rucksack.
MB immediately recognized the rucksack as belonging to his friend and thought the Bigfoot he was looking at had to be Duane-o. But again, the color of the Bigfoot's hair was different, almost raven black and slick as if wet or greasy, and the way it walked was exactly like the first Bigfoot. And if it was Duane, he had suddenly put on a lot of muscle.
The big-breasted Bigfoot stopped picking flowers and watched what MB assumed was her mate as he approached her.
She bleated plaintively, "Woooeeeooo-wooooeeeeeooooo."
Her mate replied, "Woooooo-woooooo-woooooo."
The two Bigfoot nudged noses. There was a lot of mewls, snorts, hoots, glugs, yowls and weeee-woooos.
MB watched the amazing spectacle and recorded the animal sounds that he had heard so many times before. Yeah, it had to be old Duane-o. The no-brainer must have leg extensions on or something similar. They nudged noses again and the big male Bigfoot licked the snout of the tall female Bigfoot. It could even look like they were getting frisky. This might get interesting, thought MB.
