by John Vurro

Jefferson County, Washington – Three biologists were found dead along the Olympic Peninsula by what officials claimed was a grizzly attack. The bodies were located fifty-yards away from a triangular wooden structure. One of the biologists cellphones was also declared missing. An investigation is being conducted.


Sasquatch regarded himself as the J.D. Salinger of the natural world and wanted privacy. He was tired of strolling through his woodland territory and having survivalists take snapshots with their cameras or shots at him with their guns. So he retreated into the godforsaken mountains. Sasquatch hated snow. He despised bleating goats. To pass the time, he read, or sat on boulders and reflected along the banks of icy streams. Sasquatch felt the nickname “Bigfoot” was offensive, since his feet were relative to his size. He hated hearing complaints about his musky odors. It’s called pheromones. Sasquatch hotties called it the scent of love. Ask Europeans. But most of all, Sasquatch was tired of scientists knocking over his ULAFs. It took weeks to buckle fifty-foot trunks without snapping a single branch and forming triangular structures that indigenous people had taught his species generations ago.

Those Sci-holes dismantled the ULAF to prove its authenticity when they should LEAVE IT THE FUCK ALONE. Hence the name: Unobtrusive Landscape Art Formations. Plus Sasquatch had a bit of OCD. If he passed a dismantled ULAF, he felt compelled to rebuild it, which only amazed those Sci-holes more, and they’d dismantle it again, then he would— you get the horrible pattern. Right?

For centuries, Sasquatch was the apex predator. Cock of the walk. He hunted moose, bears, rabbits, raccoons, squirrel, salmon, beaver (oh yeah), chipmunks, noisy goats, possums, basically anything with a beating heart. How do you find a rat hole? Lift its tail. Sasquatch cherished lewd jokes. BUT NOW because of interlopers Sasquatch hunted at night, but he lacked nocturnal abilities, so he picked nuts and berries. On mountaintops. Covered in snow. Within earshot of bleating goats. Due to lack of protein, Sasquatch’s blood-sugar dropped, which made him lethargic and cranky. He couldn’t take this vegan bullshit any longer and descended the mountaintop. Sci-holes had dispersed his food-sources. Sasquatch pushed on.

He was close to the ULAF Sasquatch Father had built with Sasquatch a month before Sasquatch Father died. Sasquatch wept. He got sentimental about these things. But Sasquatch heard voices and skulked towards the noise. Sci-holes had dismantled Sasquatch Father’s ULAF. The Sci-hole With Glasses called the ULAF a parlor trick. Sasquatch was heated. He crept through the silky shadows of the forest and found their camp. Sasquatch filed rocks to razor points and waited behind a cluster of white pines. The three Sci-holes entered their camp, still arguing. Sasquatch whizzed the rock and heard a pleasing thud as Sci-hole With Glasses’ head cracked open, like the nuts Sasquatch was reduced to eating. Sasquatch felt satisfied and would’ve left the other Sci-holes well enough alone, but Bearded Sci-hole snapped his camera.

He launched a rock that shot through the viewfinder and exploded out the back of Bearded Sci-hole’s head. The Final Sci-hole begged for mercy. But Sasquatch had crossed that threshold. He blasted the final rock through Final Sci-Hole’s throat leaving an opening so wide that Sasquatch saw the dismantled trunks that had once been Father Sasquatch’s ULAF. He felt vindicated. Sasquatch was eating beaver tonight (oh yeah). He heard buzzing and scooped up Sci-Hole With Glasses’ phone.

Sasquatch started his own Twitter account. Here’s Sasquatch’s first tweet:

@Squatchmo: Next egg-headed fucker that touches my artwork gets an invite to their own funeral. #bestkeepwalking #saveindeginousart #leavemealone


John’s story “Turnkey” was chosen for Carve’s One To Watch feature in their 2015 Summer issue. His story “Carmine’s War” won Harpur Palate’s 2013 John Gardner Award for fiction. His stories have been published in Loud Zoo, SlushPile, Plots with Guns and elsewhere. He lives with his family in NJ, where sadly there are no Sasquatch.
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