Read Online Nobody Loves a Bigfoot Like a Bigfoot Babe by Simon Okill - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Simon Okill
Tags: bigfoot
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And as expected the analysis of the hairs left by the Phantom Bigfootâthe third such incident in less than two monthsâcould not be ascertained because, once again, they had been contaminated with bleach. As for the pungent odor, it was determined to be caused by various animal extracts, skunk urine and sulfur oxide for that extra lingering noxious smell. It was confirmed by all involved that the perp was a class "A" nut job.
Whoever was responsible for the practical joke-and she was pretty damned sure it had to be Duane-had cleverly manufactured each crime scene to prevent it from being properly analyzed. One thing thoughâand everyone in Sacramento was in agreementâit could not be a Bigfoot, because Bigfoot was a myth.
"Yeah, I've got the results of the DNA," Lou replied. "The same . . . as usual."
Walt looked disgusted. "I hope no one's going to blame me for contaminating the evidence this time. I merely help extract the evidence from the scene as requested by you, ASAP, with the utmost of care, I might add." Walt folded his muscular arms with pride in his plumber's job. "Not my fault I had to take a piss at the wrong moment."
"Like I said, as soon as I know something, you'll know." Lou nodded to the Fluckers.
Rose led Lou from the living room, down the hall to the front porch. "Please don't mind Walt, his bark is worse than his bite." Rose smiled sweetly, "And don't worry your pretty head about Beau, he's probably laughing right now."
Lou smiled at the poor woman, "Speak to you soon, Rose."
11
OLAAA SAT UP AND YAWNED. She stretched hairy arms and looked about her little home.
The cave was small, dark and decorated with flowers and leaves of every color. The walls were adorned with crude drawings of tall men with pale hair floating into a massive doughnut with what looked like rays beaming down. The entrance to the cave was covered by bushes and undergrowth and was barely big enough for an adult Bigfoot to squeeze through.
Olaaa sat on her haunches, watching a sleeping Boo from a dark corner of the cave. She slowly rocked back and forth, mewing pathetically.
A shaft of sunlight filtered through the entrance onto her plaything as he lay comfortably on a bed of leaves and grass. He was trussed up with thin vines to prevent him from escaping. A piece of cloth torn from his t-shirt was tied around his mouth to muffle any sounds he made which might attract the other Bigfoot to his whereabouts.
Olaaa looked lovingly at her plaything. If wishes could come true she wished he would reciprocate her love. But such a love between a Bigfoot and a pale one was forbidden.
She sighed woefully then gave a whimper, "Weeeewooooeeee."
Olaaa crept closer to Boo and stroked his fine blond hair. More than anything right then, Olaaa wanted to be blond like her plaything.
"Weeeooooweeeeeooooo."
12
IT WAS 8:30 IN THE EVENING of the first day of Beau's disappearance, and still no one took it seriously. But Beaverites did take seriously Wednesday nights at Abe's Bar and Grill. And this was Wednesday night.
Abe's was located on the western edge of town, at the top of Main Street. At the back of the building was a micro brewery, delivering four distinctive beers to the locals and tourists alike. Little Beaver Light at 3.4%, Big Beaver Bitter at 4.9%, Bigfoot ESB at 5.6% and last but not least, for those Beaverites who wanted to fall down real quickâ Sasquatch Ale at 7.2%.
Several Beaverites entered the large log and stone cabin with a red sign stating this was Abe's Bar & Grill.
The place was fit to burst with locals and tourists, including the newly arrived Japanese sightseers. Live entertainment and dancing added ambiance to the beer-guzzling, shoe-tapping rowdy atmosphere. The walls were rough-hewn logs and the floor consisted of sawdust-covered planks of pine. All in all, a very rustic, but friendly place to get your brain totaled.
SHERIFF LOU SAT ON A swivel stool at the bar savoring the last mouthful of
Whoever was responsible for the practical joke-and she was pretty damned sure it had to be Duane-had cleverly manufactured each crime scene to prevent it from being properly analyzed. One thing thoughâand everyone in Sacramento was in agreementâit could not be a Bigfoot, because Bigfoot was a myth.
"Yeah, I've got the results of the DNA," Lou replied. "The same . . . as usual."
Walt looked disgusted. "I hope no one's going to blame me for contaminating the evidence this time. I merely help extract the evidence from the scene as requested by you, ASAP, with the utmost of care, I might add." Walt folded his muscular arms with pride in his plumber's job. "Not my fault I had to take a piss at the wrong moment."
"Like I said, as soon as I know something, you'll know." Lou nodded to the Fluckers.
Rose led Lou from the living room, down the hall to the front porch. "Please don't mind Walt, his bark is worse than his bite." Rose smiled sweetly, "And don't worry your pretty head about Beau, he's probably laughing right now."
Lou smiled at the poor woman, "Speak to you soon, Rose."
11
OLAAA SAT UP AND YAWNED. She stretched hairy arms and looked about her little home.
The cave was small, dark and decorated with flowers and leaves of every color. The walls were adorned with crude drawings of tall men with pale hair floating into a massive doughnut with what looked like rays beaming down. The entrance to the cave was covered by bushes and undergrowth and was barely big enough for an adult Bigfoot to squeeze through.
Olaaa sat on her haunches, watching a sleeping Boo from a dark corner of the cave. She slowly rocked back and forth, mewing pathetically.
A shaft of sunlight filtered through the entrance onto her plaything as he lay comfortably on a bed of leaves and grass. He was trussed up with thin vines to prevent him from escaping. A piece of cloth torn from his t-shirt was tied around his mouth to muffle any sounds he made which might attract the other Bigfoot to his whereabouts.
Olaaa looked lovingly at her plaything. If wishes could come true she wished he would reciprocate her love. But such a love between a Bigfoot and a pale one was forbidden.
She sighed woefully then gave a whimper, "Weeeewooooeeee."
Olaaa crept closer to Boo and stroked his fine blond hair. More than anything right then, Olaaa wanted to be blond like her plaything.
"Weeeooooweeeeeooooo."
12
IT WAS 8:30 IN THE EVENING of the first day of Beau's disappearance, and still no one took it seriously. But Beaverites did take seriously Wednesday nights at Abe's Bar and Grill. And this was Wednesday night.
Abe's was located on the western edge of town, at the top of Main Street. At the back of the building was a micro brewery, delivering four distinctive beers to the locals and tourists alike. Little Beaver Light at 3.4%, Big Beaver Bitter at 4.9%, Bigfoot ESB at 5.6% and last but not least, for those Beaverites who wanted to fall down real quickâ Sasquatch Ale at 7.2%.
Several Beaverites entered the large log and stone cabin with a red sign stating this was Abe's Bar & Grill.
The place was fit to burst with locals and tourists, including the newly arrived Japanese sightseers. Live entertainment and dancing added ambiance to the beer-guzzling, shoe-tapping rowdy atmosphere. The walls were rough-hewn logs and the floor consisted of sawdust-covered planks of pine. All in all, a very rustic, but friendly place to get your brain totaled.
SHERIFF LOU SAT ON A swivel stool at the bar savoring the last mouthful of
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