Claws of Doom

by Peebles, Chrissy

  Walking down the hallway Rose informed her guests, “Walt is in his spaceship, don’t you know.”

  The agents stopped momentarily and exchanged questioning looks.

  Merlot grinned and whispered, “His spaceship … this I gotta see.” She grabbed her cell phone in readiness.

  Virgil didn’t respond. His expression was deadly serious. They’d both read the report on Walt Bruger and his alleged alien abductions. The man was a major league nut job. Just like most people in Big Beaver. Virgil wondered would he have ended up like them if he had stayed.

  “Oh yes … his spaceship. He spends a lot of his spare time in there, these days. It’s down in the basement.”

  Walt’s make-believe spaceship was in the basement. As good a place as any, Virgil thought. Following Rose, Virgil recalled that as a sci-fi geek, Walt used to watch a lot of stuff on TV, especially Star Trek. As he progressed from series to series, Walt latched onto The X-Files and from there he escalated to Stargate SG-1. It figured that Walt would make up a story about aliens abducting him.

  Rose reached the basement door first and opened it.

  The dim light was already switched on allowing them to see into the murky depths below. They remained in the hallway and peered down the wooden stairs that led into the basement. There was a lot of clutter down there, noted Virgil, but no sign of a spaceship.

  “Come on … this way,” Rose cheerfully said, as if calling to pets.

  The agents shrugged and followed Rose. At the foot of the steps Virgil gave his surroundings a quick look. There was still no sign of a spaceship. But what did he really expect? Some crappy kid’s model made out of tinfoil?

  Virgil followed Rose’s finger to a closed, conspicuous door coated in — tin foil — there you go!

  “It’s in here.” She walked over to the door.

  Virgil followed, not knowing what to expect. He approached the closed door with trepidation at coming face to face with Walt Bruger. His pulse rate went up a notch.

  Rose pressed a communication panel on the side of the door. It gave several loud clicks. She spoke up close to the communication panel, “Greetings, Captain Bruger … Agents Tuckerwood and Merlot are awaiting your command.”

  There was no reply except a loud groan. A moment later the door automatically swung open accompanied with a swish noise, just like in Star Trek.

  The FBI agents exchanged quizzical glances before stepping inside Walt’s “spaceship”.

  The first thing Virgil noticed was the steam. He had stepped into a sauna. The second thing he noticed — and wished he hadn’t — was Walt Bruger immersed in a hot tub. There was something different about Walt, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it?

  Merlot suppressed a giggle. “Pinch me, Agent Tuckerwood … am I seeing what you’re seeing?”

  Virgil didn’t reply, but gave Merlot a friendly punch in the arm as he followed Rose into Walt’s “spaceship”. The steamy heat of the room made an instant impression. He could feel beads of sweat on his brow.

  Merlot rubbed her arm, pretending it hurt and followed her partner.

  The door closed behind them with another swish, just like in Star Trek.

  Virgil gave his surroundings a disdainfully quick glance. If he didn’t know any better he would say he was in a Swedish sauna room.

  The walls, from floor to ceiling, were made of paneled cedar wood. There was even a massage table in a corner. And on one side of the room a long steel trestle. Seated on this were six life-size female dummies with blonde wigs dressed in kimonos, and standing to the side of them a life-size plastic cut-out of a pudgy Elvis Presley dressed in his white Las Vegas regalia.

  Over in another corner of the room was a small glass-paneled room and inside the room a shower cubicle. The only other things that stuck out like sore thumbs, as did everything else, were several seventies-style, groovy, wax lava lamps. Very trippy indeed!

  This is too weird, Virgil thought. He tugged on his tie to loosen it and allow some of his body heat out. The sweat on his brow trickled down his face. He could feel his shirt sticking to his back. His highly-polished shoes which he took pride in keeping perfect were dimpling under the steamy heat. He wanted to smack Walt around for ruining his shoes.

  Walt remained in the hot tub and watched the two agents approach. His eyes narrowed as he focused all his attention on Virgil. His lip curled into a snarl, just like Elvis.

  “Shit, if it isn’t Virgil Peckerwood? I heard you’d joined the Feds. What a pecker head.”

  Virgil hadn’t expected a warm welcome. “We’d like to ask you a few questions about Beau.”

  Walt interrupted, “What for … Beau is just fooling around.” Walt looked pleased at Virgil’s discomfort. “You look a little hot under the collar, Woody. You and your hot partner fancy a dip?”

  “No, we would definitely not fancy a dip,” Virgil said curtly, as if offended by the very suggestion of immersing himself in the hot tub with Walt Bruger.

  Now, if it had been Lou in the tub — no, don’t go there you idiot. Get into character — The Rock. That’s better.

  “When did you last see Beau?” Virgil demanded.

  “Well … before he went missing,” Rose said in a matter-of-fact obvious way.

  “Uh-huh … did he seem … upset about anything?” Merlot asked, emphasizing upset.

  Virgil shot Merlot a look to keep quiet, but knew beyond all doubt she wouldn’t be able to keep her big mouth shut.

  Merlot poked out her tongue and shrugged.

  “Still can’t keep your women in check, Woody.” Walt laughed at Virgil’s anger.

  “Now stop that Walt.” Rose thought for a moment and smiled. “Beau’s a fun-loving boy … why would he be upset if he’s having fun? Always has a smile on his face.”

  Walt looked affectionately at his wife. “Have to admit, Beau sure takes after his sweet mother … wouldn’t harm a fly.”

  Virgil grimaced as Walt and Rose smiled lovingly at one another. What a yucky Hallmark moment.

  “So you don’t think he could have run away?” Merlot asked, as she undid several buttons of her blouse, revealing cleavage.

  Walt looked incredulously at Merlot. “Not our Beau … he’d have no cause to, would he, Mother?” He smiled at Rose who agreed with a nod. He turned to Virgil and asked with a smirk, “Well … what do you think of my spaceship, Agent Peckerwood?”

  Virgil paused for a moment to collect his composure before he dared reply. The asshole couldn’t think he was actually in a spaceship, could he? If he did, he was all the way nuts.

  Virgil sighed with irritation. “It’s just a sauna.” Virgil waited for the inevitable.

  Rose gasped with shock and put a hand to her mouth. “Oh no!”

  Walt’s face reddened with rage. The water sloshed as his body trembled. He took in a deep intake of breath, repeating that rapidly to calm his anger down. He looked absolutely stunned by what Virgil had just said. His eyes widened with indignation.

  “Well, yeah … it is a fucking sauna, asshole … but it’s much more than that. I’ll have you know this is an exact replica of the room the aliens had me imprisoned in … exact!” Walt pointed. “You see the massage table over there?”

  Virgil and Merlot glanced at the massage table then looked back at Walt.

  “Don’t tell me … I know, it’s Doc McCoy’s surgical table,” Merlot said with a titter. She received a nudge from Virgil.

  Walt faltered, giving Merlot a condescending look, before continuing, “No … it’s just a massage table, little lady. These gorgeous female aliens massaged my entire body.” He pointed to the table. “And it was done on a table just like that. Not two or three female aliens, but a whole horde of them, and all at once. Their touch sent shivers down my spine. And they did strange things to me which I cannot go into detail about.” Walt indicated with his eyes that Rose would be upset if he went into detail. “I lie awake at night thinking what they did to me.”

  “Still loo
ks like a sauna to me,” Virgil insisted, knowing the lunatic might flip any moment now.

  “You FBI got no imagination. I tell you they were Swedish-looking aliens, and they modeled the rooms of their spaceship from an IKEA catalogue. They said they shop there all the time.”

  Walt certainly looked serious, Virgil mused.

  Merlot, trying desperately not to laugh, asked, “Why do you think they were Swedish aliens, Mister Bruger?” She sputtered a mix of cough and guffaw.

  Walt groaned out loud, “And that just proves they’ll let anyone in the FBI … I didn’t say they was Swedish, just Swedish-looking … but FYI, their planet is called Abba, and they played Abba real loud all the time … their favorite was Super Trouper.”

  Merlot exploded with a fit of the giggles.

  “What the fuck you laughing at?” Walt asked, looking riled.

  Rose chirped in, “Anyone care for some sushi?” She smiled sweetly. “It’s what the aliens gave Walt to eat. They told him he would remain healthy, and … you know.” She put a hand to her mouth. “Ready for you-know-what if he ate it all the time.” She giggled like a schoolgirl on her first date. “My love bunny eats nothing else now … oh except for nuts and berries.” Rose went red-faced and covered her face with her hands.

  Virgil stared in disbelief at Walt for several moments. Didn’t the asshole know that sushi was a Japanese meal? He knew the best thing to do was to leave without getting in too deep with the moron concerning his alleged alien abduction. However, he couldn’t resist one more jab at the crazy fuck.

  Virgil turned up the heat. “I read your statement on your abduction. You insisted you saw the real Elvis Presley on board the spaceship and that he had been replaced on earth by a clone.”

  Walt glared at Virgil, with a mean look in his eye and shouted, “I know what you’re doing … you’re trying to piss me off, Agent Peckerwood.”

  “And how’s that working for you?” Virgil said with smirk.

  Merlot gave her partner a discreet tap on the arm. “Enough said, Virgil. Let’s move on.”

  Virgil didn’t make any attempt to leave the room. He had upset Walt and it felt good. In fact, he had never felt better since his arrival in Big Beaver. He gave Walt a thin smile.

  But the smile soon left Virgil’s face when Walt stood up to reveal an extremely hairy body — too hairy with huge tufts of hair breaking out from his skimpy thong. That’s what was different about Walt! While submerged the sandy hairs were almost invisible — now they lay flat and damp on his pudgy body.

  Merlot looked away, holding her mouth as if to puke, “Hairy guys are so icky … that’s so gross.”

  Walt started to snort at Virgil and Merlot’s unease, “Before I was abducted, I barely had a hair on my body … now look at me … I think they’re changing me into a Swedish Sasquatch.”

  Virgil wrinkled his nose in disgust and looked askance at his partner who had started to snigger again. “I am surrounded by idiots.”

  Merlot continued to chuckle. “I’m beginning to so love this town.”

  Walt pleaded, “This ain’t no laughing matter … I have these strange dreams where I run naked through the woods and mate like a sex-mad grizzly with these hairy females covered with berries … and do you know what they do with the berries, Agent Peckerwood?”

  Virgil didn’t say another word. He turned to leave and nudged Merlot to get the hell out of Dodge and as far away from the Brugers as was humanly possible.

  Merlot faltered instead of hurrying after her partner, exclaiming, “Hey, I was having fun.” Before she left the spaceship, she turned and snapped Walt in all his glory with her phone.

  ****

  Outside the Brugers’ residence Virgil sat behind the wheel of their car, waiting for Merlot with clenched fists.

  Merlot hopped into the passenger seat, fiddling with her phone.

  Virgil looked at the cell phone and up at Merlot’s concentrating face, “What the hell you sending now?” He leaned over to get a better look, but she covered the cell phone with her hand.

  Merlot gave Virgil a cheeky look and shrugged, “Couldn’t help it … sorry.” She put her cell phone in her jacket pocket and turned to Virgil. “Where to now, masser?” she said in a Roots voice.

  Virgil started the engine and drove off down Mill Road and back to the sheriff’s department.

  Duane was doubled up on the dusty ground unable to control the laughter. He hadn’t had a show like that since well, never. The sound of MB’s jeep approached. He quickly got up and snatched up the Jooobaaa bottles.

  He dashed inside and hid them in the pantry of his kitchen out of sight of MB’s prying eyes. Now was not the right time to tell MB, but soon, Duane thought.

  Chapter 23

  Zola, Lies & Videodisc

  DUANE AND MB sat in rocking chairs on Duane’s porch drinking coffee, gazing at the wilderness all around them.

  “This is the best coffee, Duane,” MB remarked.

  “Thought you’d like it.”

  MB looked sideways at Duane. “It was you hooting back at Little Beaver, wasn’t it?”

  Duane shrugged, “Maybe!”

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” MB replied. “Why didn’t you want to say hello to Virgil?”

  Duane took a sip of coffee and shrugged. “I thought about it but I changed my mind, I guess.”

  MB nodded his head, satisfied with Duane’s reply. He pulled out his iphone, fiddled with it and handed it to Duane. “You gotta see this.”

  Duane snorted at the images posted on Facebook from Soozie’s camera. There, for all the world to see was Zola skipping around the campfire and a close up of a finger prodding her and Beau slapping a kiss on her face. Then the images went berserk as the camera fell to the ground. From there, all Duane could see were Zola’s big feet trudging away.

  “It’s a fake!” he said, handing the iphone back to MB.

  “How can you be that certain?” MB played the film once more using his discerning eye to spot any signs of mischief and could not find any. “Looks real to me … and they seem to think that’s a real Bigfoot.”

  “No one’s gonna believe them, I certainly don’t.”

  MB gave Duane a keen look. “Then it must be you,” he insisted. MB pondered this dilemma.

  Duane went blank-faced as he tuned in on The Verge’s negative thoughts.

  In a dark room, a large flat screen TV displayed Soozie’s camcorder disc. The antics of the teenagers were there for all to see. Chad stripped to his waist. Beau smooched with a Bigfoot that was so out of focus it was worthless, but it was obvious the Bigfoot was female. Another fuzzy clip showed the Bigfoot dancing around the campfire. Finally a rather shaky sequence zoomed into the edge of darkness where The Big X could just be seen.

  “Freeze that!” Virgil ordered. “No, not that frame. Scan back.” He shouted excitedly, “That’s it!” He got up from his chair and walked up to the flat screen, pointing to a blurred image in the dark woods. “Zoom in on that.” He circled the area with his finger and hoped it was Duane dressed as a Bigfoot.

  Deputy Dwight clicked the mouse of the laptop and squared off the area Virgil had pointed at.

  The image, although more blurred than ever, showed a furry shape lurking behind the offending tree.

  Virgil stepped back to get a better look, “Hello, Duane … you dumbass.” He turned with a triumphant gleam in his eye.

  Sheriff Lou shook her head with dismay, “You cannot expect me to believe that’s Duane.” She gave Virgil a look of disdain. “That could be anything.” She rolled her eyes, “Besides, it’s obvious the Bigfoot we’re looking for is a female dressed up as Bigfoot.”

  Merlot burst out laughing, “Nah, it’s Bigfoot.”

  Sheriff Lou got up from the table where Virgil, Merlot and Deputy Dwight, with notepad and pen in hand, were seated. A closed laptop and several mugs of stale coffee and a plateful of stale donuts, uneaten, were on the table.

  Lou switched on the lights
and nodded to Dwight to stop the film. She opened a door to a side interrogation room and beckoned, “Okay, you three, come on in.”

  Soozie, Sammi-Jo and Chad came into the room.

  “Sit down,” Virgil said sternly.

  The threesome sat around the table.

  Virgil pointed an angry finger at the teenagers. “Fess up right now or suffer the consequences.”

  Soozie stopped chewing gum, fished it out and looked around for somewhere to put it. She smiled at Virgil’s shocked face and stuck it to the underside of the table.

  “What’re you gonna do, arrest me?”

  Soozie licked her lips very suggestively. “Look Agent Peckerwood, we ….”

  Virgil rolled his eyes again, “Tuckerwood … it’s Tuckerwood.” He was now red-faced with anger as all three teenagers sniggered. Worse still, Merlot was suppressing the giggles. And Lou shook her head with dismay — that was worst of all.

  Sammi-Jo grinned with mischief. “It’s just like we told the sheriff … Ag … ent Tu … cker … wood … Beau went to … you know, take a pee behind the X tree, and poof … that was the last we saw of him.”

  Virgil changed tack. He said in his regulation, matter-of-fact voice, jabbing a finger, “Look, Soozie, we’ve seen the evidence. Underage drinking is against the law.”

  Soozie un-wrapped more gum, stuffed it into her mouth and shrugged, “So what.”

  Chad nervously giggled. “We’d never do anything like that, Agent Tuckerwood … honest.”

  “Oh my God … you’d better put us on the top ten most wanted list,” Sammi-Jo said with a snigger.

  Virgil regarded Chad with a cold, disparaging look. “Giggle all you like, buddy-boy, but if all of you are involved in this charade, be warned, the FBI does not take kindly to having their precious time wasted.”

  Chad looked desperately to Sheriff Lou. He shook his head and gesticulated. “Sheriff, we’re telling the truth. Beau’s not fooling around this time.” He actually had a decent thought. “Besides, if we were screwing around we wouldn’t have stayed in the hope Beau might return, would we?”