I was napping in my comfy chair next to the fireplace, here in my secluded cabin somewhere in the dense wilderness of northwestern PA, and woke abruptly when my smartphone went “b-bloop” on the table beside me.
Glancing across the room I noted the time on my old wall clock, 10:45AM. It was the day after Christmas, and I had been sleeping in my chair all night. That Macallan 18 really worked a number on me. Querying my cell phone I saw that the actual time, according to my service provider, was 10:54AM. Need to correct the old clock, it has always run slow.
An informant had sent me a text message regarding a new Facebook post by Finding Bigfoot, and it was accompanied by the photo above, Cliff Barackman playing marching band concert toms in the woods. My contact works closely with high level officials in a clandestine government agency, and affords me much insight into top secret intel regarding our governments’ involvement with various paranormal and mysterious subject matter.
The message accompanying the photo read, “Get a load of this…”
Despite the multitude of questions and comments one might entertain regarding such an activity — performing drums in a remote wooded area in an effort to inspire communication with alleged, elusive, hairy, upright walking primates — the first one that popped into my head was, “why?”
Short answer? Who the fuck cares?!
Long answer? Dumb activities to increase TV show ratings because, let’s face it, everyone likes to watch a train wreck.
Fictional answer, devised by yours truly:
This is a good one, and I bet there are some people out there who will regard it as maybe not too far from plausible, even though I made it up.
Cliff’s drums are tuned to specific pitches and intervals in order to, when played in the right sequence, trigger the secret code on a hidden door to an underground base where robot Bigfeet are manufactured, stored and periodically released to walk around in the woods to scare people away from the clandestine government agency my covert contact is associated with.
Oh, and regardless of whether or not Bigfoot are real (and you’ll notice that I used the correct plural form), I’m sure the resounding concussion of concert toms through the woods scared the shit out of any creature, real or imagined, within range of the noise!