Nobody Loves a Bigfoot Like a Bigfoot Babe by Simon Okill & Simon Okill

Author:Simon Okill & Simon Okill
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Bigfoot
ISBN: 9781938985041
Publisher: Christopher Matthews Publishing
Published: 2012-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

22

THAT EVENING, around nine, Abe's Bar and Grill was practically bursting at the seams. The cacophony of chatter and laughter mixed with country and western music rivaled that of the joyful clinking of glassware.

MB sat alone at a table close to the stage, drinking a cool Little Beaver Light from a tall glass. He was wearing his usual jeans and a denim shirt. A bottle of the same beer and a tall glass awaited the arrival of his other singing half—Duane.

MB's attention was focused on a group of noisy male and female Japanese seated at several nearby tables. They looked as if they were enjoying the entertainment and having a good time.

On the stage was a middle-aged Japanese male, wearing a full country and western ensemble, playing a guitar and singing a country and western tune. The tune in question was a C and W rendition of "The Green, Green Grass of Home."

Not bad on the ol' geetar, but the singing was more than a tad off key, thought MB, with a disgusted look on his face. There's an Old Indian legend that tells us man who is tone deaf, can't sing.

MB took a sip of his beer and wondered where the hell Duane was. He would have to be here soon or they'd miss their spot.

Less than twenty seconds later, Duane stepped through the door of Abe's Bar and Grill. He was dressed in his Bigfoot duds, minus the head, which he had stuffed under his armpit. He waved and shook hands with everyone who said howdy—which was basically everyone.

MB caught sight of his friend and smiled. He stood up and waved to attract Duane's attention, indicating he was late with his non-existent watch. He was reminded of an Old Indian legend that told us man who depends on watch will be late for the rest of his life.

From across the crowded seating area of the bar and grill, Duane saw his friend. He cheerfully waved back. He sauntered through the crowded room saying his hellos to anyone that greeted him.

MB sat back down and waited with some amusement as Duane made his way toward him. This is gonna take some time, thought MB, as hands shook Duane's hand, and offers of free beer halted his progress.

MB was reminded of an Old Indian legend that tells us man who has a lot of friends is rich indeed.

A glass of beer was thrust into Duane's hand by a fellow male Beaverite. He accepted it and took a mouthful, then went on his merry way.

Another Beaverite, this time a familiar female clad in a cowboy get up, grabbed hold of Duane's arm and planted a kiss on his cheek, leaving a big red lip print on his skin.

Duane spilled half his beer over Collette.

Collette proudly looked down at her erect nipples showing through her wet blouse. She grabbed Duane by the hair and pulled his face into her breasts.

Everyone cheered.

It was obvious to all that a lot of people really liked Duane, MB mused.

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