'Til The Cows Come Home

The Growl Is Coming From Inside The House

Last night while flipping channels I stumbled upon a program chronicling the hunt for Bigfoot.  Using Cutting! Edge! Technology! and Scientific! Breakthroughs! the teams were going to settle Once! And! For! All! whether or not Bigfoot is real.  Judging by the first five minutes of the program it was going to be a lot of bull-honky razzle dazzle leading up to a disappointing payoff with no actual result.
 
But as I tend to believe Bigfoot is about six gajillion times more real than God, I had to watch.
 
It wasn't long before they unveiled all of those cheesy reenactments of Bigfoot encounters.  The ape suit looked appropriately phony, but these producers knew what they were doing.  The lighting, tone of the narration, and the underscoring all conspired to FREAK MY SHIT OUT.  I sat in my rocking chair and pulled the blanket up to just below my eyes.
 
Suddenly, every noise I heard was indicative of a Sasquatch bearing down on me.  The radiator clanging?  Bigfoot in the basement, trying to find his way out.  The wind shaking the window panes?  Bigfoot climbing up the side of the house after catching whiff of my beef stew dinner.  Evil music in my head?  Bigfoot psychically projecting Irma's evil theme from "Sorority Girls From Hell" into my mind to throw me off from his approach.
 
I finally mustered up the courage to reach for the remote and switch off the television.  But not before I hit the record button so I can watch the of the show later. During daylight hours.  With a rifle.