The Case of the Bigfoot Sighting

Unusual things have been happening in the town of Zipperfinch Lake again. A strange creature has been observed in and around town by residents and visitors alike. The first recorded sighting of the frightening apparition was in 1942 by Elmo Fernwood, a distant relative of current Zipperfinch Lake cottage owner, Ethel Rumor. The creature people had seen is known in different parts of the world by various names such as Yeti, Abominable Snowman, Bigfoot, Sasquatch or, as Zipperfinch Lake residents refer to it, "that big, hairy fleabag."

It was Orville Bloodshot who first gave the creature that name after he'd walked out of Lakeside Bar and Grill back in 1976 and saw it lurking in the darkness in the woods. Orville, who'd had a touch of the grape to ward off the fall chill, at first mistook the creature for his wife who he assumed had come to drag him home by his left ear. Upon closer observation, however, he knew he didn't recognize the fur coat. When the creature stood straight up, Orville realized he was witnessing something abnormal. He also realized it was something that might devour him at any moment.

Sobering up instantly, he broke all local speed records running back into the bar. Astonished patrons asked him what was wrong and, after downing a triple bourbon, he stammered, "b-b-big, hairy f-f-fleabag." People assumed he'd seen his wife coming for him so they marched him home where they found the lights out and his wife snoring loudly in the back bedroom. Dismissing the whole event as nothing more than a slight aberration, the townsfolk headed back to the tavern for last call.

The next day, local children out playing in the woods came upon large footprints in the soil. The people were astonished at the size of the prints and had to admit that they were somewhat larger than Mrs. Bloodshot's, though she had been known to walk around bare footed, even in the dead of winter. They then realized what Orville must have seen.

The preceding brief history of the Zipperfinch Lake sightings brings us to the crisis now looming in the town. Residents are again bickering among themselves as to what should be done about "The Fleabag" as they've come to call it. Many people remember the fierce resentment that built up during the unsuccessful search for the Zipperfinch Lake giant bullfrog where townspeople were at each other's throats about what should be done about the reptile.

"The Fleabag is just like the frog," said Rolly Zimwich at a recent town meeting held at the Lakeside Bar and Grill. "He hasn't hurt anyone that we know of so we should just leave him alone."

"The frog has been known to snatch water skiers," yelled Clive Jackpine. "Are we going to wait until The Fleabag starts doing the same thing?"

"Let's go out and hunt him down and blast him," called out Ethel Rumor from her perch on the bar stool at the end of the bar. She had previously shown her propensity toward violence when she’d tried to perforate the giant bullfrog with buckshot from her twelve gauge shotgun.

Rolly Zimwich spoke again. "You know as well as I do that the frog only grabs tourists so there's no harm done. In fact, I think we all know that the frog is performing a great service."

Most of the crowd begrudgingly mumbled in agreement except for Clive Jackpine who'd made his millions by selling firewood to campers, picnickers and backpackers for a dollar a stick.

Clive spoke up. "What about last month when Lefty Clayborne was delivering mail on his rural route and this huge, hairy hand came out of the bushes near the mailbox and tried to grab Grandpa Dugan's social security check?"

"Now, no one has verified that," said Rolly Zimwich. "You know that Lefty has been seeing a lot of things on that route since he started getting his thermos filled in here at the bar."

Nothing was resolved at the meeting that night. It broke up suddenly when Ethel Rumor noticed that a large, hairy being of some kind was sitting at a dimly lit table at the back of the room, trying with grunts and sign language to order a bourbon from Clovis the waitress. When Ethel pointed this out to the bar patrons, they all remembered some important business elsewhere and left hurriedly by way of the side door. Townsfolk questioned Clovis about it the next day.

"No," she said. "I didn't notice anything unusual about him. He looked just like our regular customers to me."