Lord Long Rod
Diamond Member
- Jan 17, 2023
- 7,706
- 8,152
- 2,138
- Banned
- #1
The frantic phone came in at just after 10:00 pm. At first I just ignored the call. Then my phone rang again. This I checked it and saw that the caller was my Squatching buddy, Ernie “Pig Face” Beauregard. I answered the call and was met by a downright hysterical Ernie. “I got one, Bud!! I got one!!! I need you to come help me with the body. I got to get it to safety before the heat comes down!”, Ernie said.
You see, I have been mentoring Ernie in the art of squatching. He is a good old boy, but still green. Like I said, he is a buddy. He’s not an Operator like me and my team. But old Ernie decided to go solo tonight and apparently the sumbitch bagged one. When he finally calmed down enough on the phone for me to get a word in, I said “Goddamn, Ernie! It’s late. Just throw the body in the back of your truck and I will swing by in the morning and take a look at it.”
But that was not good enough for Ernie. He said “Bud, you don’t understand. This motherfucker is HUGE! It might be a STATE RECORD!! I need help packing it. And there’s others, they want to take my Squatch, Bud!”Right then I had my answer to what was going on. The fucking government is on to Ernie and they are going to try to steal his Bigfoot. I told Ernie, “Ok, buddy just sit tight while I get my load-out, and I will be there.” Then came a knock on my front door, followed by old Ernie telling me he was already here. I looked out front through a window, and sure enough, there was Ernie’s surplus Hummer sitting in my front yard, right smack on top of my new flower bed. “Motherfucker!”, I thought.
I grabbed my gear and we headed out. Ernie was wired, and jabbering at a mile a minute about the beast he killed. I, however, was more interested in the feds. If we were going to have to start throwing lead downrange I wanted some intel on the op. But old Ernie would not stop talking. So finally I pulled out my .480 revolver, pointed it up, and squeezed the trigger. “BAM!!!” I blew a hole right through the roof of his pickup.
Ernie looked over at me in horror. I said “Ok. Now that I have your intention, tell me about the fucking feds.” Ernie just sat there with a stupid and confused look on his face. Then he asked “Feds?” I said “Yeah, the feds. You said the heat was about to come down on you and there were others who wanted to take the body.”
Ernie shook his head. “No, no, no, no. There ain’t no feds, Bud.” Then he leaned over and whispered “Not yet.” Ernie continued. “Nah, it’s the fucking MEXICANS!” I was perplexed. Now I was the one with the dumb, confused look on my face. I asked “What in the hell do the goddamn Mexicans got to do with this?!?” Ernie responded, “You’ll see, Bud. You’ll see!”
Just then Ernie, who had been driving like Mario Andretti on cocaine, violently wheeled us into a shopping plaza. I asked him what he was doing. Keep in mind that Ernie was in a purely manic state from the time I picked up my phone until this point. So I had not even been able to get the kill location from him.
Ernie said “This is where I killed that sumbitchin Bigfoot!!” I said “Where?!? At the damn Starbucks?!?” Ernie said “No. Down at the Mexican joint at the end of the plaza. ‘Caliente Loco’. Right THERE!” Ernie pointed to the other end of the plaza. I saw it. A Mexican restaurant.
When we got to the Mexican joint Ernie slammed on the brakes and brought us to a screeching stop, right in front of the place. Ernie jumped out, with rifle in hand, and yelled at me to follow. I got out and followed Ernie around to the back of the place. Ernie stopped in front of some dumpsters, looked around, and let out a screech. “It’s gone!!!! They took it!!! They took it!!! IT’S GONE!!!! THE FUCKING MEXICANS TOOK THE BODY!!!”
I had enough. I grabbed Ernie by the collar and bitch slapped him across the face, twice. I told him he better come clean to me right now and tell me exactly what happened or I was going to stick the barrel of my M4 up his ass and blow his colon out through the top of his head. Then I slapped him one last time.
Ernie then told me what happened. Apparently he eats at ‘Caliente Loco’ a couple times each week. One of the Mexicans told him that late one night after closing he was taking the trash out back and found a large hairy creature in a dumpster eating shit that was thrown out. It scared the hell out of him. He ran back into the restaurant, locked himself inside, and did not come out until morning.
All the illegals working there got real scared and started thinking it was the devil. The manager, Pablo, could not get any of them to take the trash out at night. So Ernie told them he would stake out the dumpsters and kill the beast in exchange for $100.00 and free tacos. Pablo agreed and the deal was made.
Old Ernie used an old refrigerator box as a hunting blind. He sat there night after night in the alley with his rifle and a bag of Cheetos, waiting for the beast. Then one night Ernie heard a rustling noise. He peaked out through a hole he cut in the box and saw this hairy creature bending over the side of the dumpster and going through the trash like it was looking for something to eat. Ernie said he got a bead on it and then “BAM!!”, he shot it. It only took one shot from his 45-70 gov. to bring it down.
Pablo came running out back at the sound of the gunshot. Ernie told him he had shot the beast. It was dark out back because the Mexicans are too cheap to install a security light. But they both saw the dead hulking body laying there on the ground. Pablo got excited and demanded that Ernie help him drag the dead beast inside the restaurant through the back door. Then they got into an argument. Ernie wanted to keep the body so he could stuff it and become famous as the man who killed Bigfoot. He was even fancying himself becoming the host of a Bigfoot hunting TV show.
Pablo, however, had other plans. It turned out that Pablo wanted to butcher the beast and grind it up for burrito meat to serve to his customers. That did not sit right with Ernie. All Ernie saw was dollar signs. But Pablo reminded him that the deal was $100.00 and free tacos, and nothing more. The two of them got into a heated argument. That is when Ernie stormed off to his truck, drove off, and called me.
When Ernie finished telling me his story he looked at me and said “Bud, we got to go in there and get that body”, as he pointed to the back door of the restaurant. I said “Ernie, have you lost your fucking mind?!? That’s breaking and entering, plus whatever happens when we get in there. They will put us in fucking prison.”
After Ernie whined a bit, and beat on the back door to no avail, I got Ernie to agree to leave provided that I come back with him the next day to confront Pablo. It was a was a quiet drive back home. I promised Ernie we would go down there when the restaurant opens at 11:00 am.
I got home around midnight and went to bed. The next morning I decided that I did not want to be any part of this bullshit, so at 8:00 am I decided to leave the house so I would not be there when Ernie arrived. I got my stuff, put on my jacket, and walked to my front door. I opened the door, and there stood Ernie. “Morning, Bud! You ready to go?”, he said.
We went and had some coffee. I tried talking Ernie out of going back to ‘Caliente Loco’ but he was having nothing to do with it. Eventually, 11 o’clock came around and we drove over to the restaurant. But when we arrived we were confronted with another problem.
The Mexican restaurant was surrounded by police cars. The building was wrapped in yellow crime scene tape. We walked up to the front door where a cop told us to get away from the crime scene. I lied and told the officer we were there for lunch and were curious as to what was going on there.
The policeman said that a homeless man was shot and killed in the alley out back last night. They got a call about a gunshot. After a couple hours they finally managed to get there and found traces of blood in front of a dumper out back, along with a blood trail leading to the back door of the restaurant. They secured the premises, got a search warrant, and eventually got inside, where they found the manager, Pablo, cooking. They also found the dismembered body of the dead homeless man laying on the floor of the kitchen.
I asked the cop who the homeless man was. He said they did not yet have a positive ID. But he told me it was a large black man with dreads and he was wearing a fur coat. I thanked the police officer then turned to Ernie and said “Well, I guess we better find somewhere else for lunch. Then we walked back to Ernie’s truck and got into the cab.
We both sat there for a moment in silence. Then Ernie asked “Bud, what are we going to do now?” I said “Well, I think you should take me home. Then I think we both need to forget all about this incident. Ernie then asked “Yeah, but Bud....How are we going to get my Bigfoot body out of there with all those cops around? Hell, they are gonna shut down the restaurant now that Pablo has been arrested!”
I looked at Ernie, shook my head, and told Ernie that he is a stupid motherfucker. “Take me home now, fuck head!”, I said to Ernie.
You see, I have been mentoring Ernie in the art of squatching. He is a good old boy, but still green. Like I said, he is a buddy. He’s not an Operator like me and my team. But old Ernie decided to go solo tonight and apparently the sumbitch bagged one. When he finally calmed down enough on the phone for me to get a word in, I said “Goddamn, Ernie! It’s late. Just throw the body in the back of your truck and I will swing by in the morning and take a look at it.”
But that was not good enough for Ernie. He said “Bud, you don’t understand. This motherfucker is HUGE! It might be a STATE RECORD!! I need help packing it. And there’s others, they want to take my Squatch, Bud!”Right then I had my answer to what was going on. The fucking government is on to Ernie and they are going to try to steal his Bigfoot. I told Ernie, “Ok, buddy just sit tight while I get my load-out, and I will be there.” Then came a knock on my front door, followed by old Ernie telling me he was already here. I looked out front through a window, and sure enough, there was Ernie’s surplus Hummer sitting in my front yard, right smack on top of my new flower bed. “Motherfucker!”, I thought.
I grabbed my gear and we headed out. Ernie was wired, and jabbering at a mile a minute about the beast he killed. I, however, was more interested in the feds. If we were going to have to start throwing lead downrange I wanted some intel on the op. But old Ernie would not stop talking. So finally I pulled out my .480 revolver, pointed it up, and squeezed the trigger. “BAM!!!” I blew a hole right through the roof of his pickup.
Ernie looked over at me in horror. I said “Ok. Now that I have your intention, tell me about the fucking feds.” Ernie just sat there with a stupid and confused look on his face. Then he asked “Feds?” I said “Yeah, the feds. You said the heat was about to come down on you and there were others who wanted to take the body.”
Ernie shook his head. “No, no, no, no. There ain’t no feds, Bud.” Then he leaned over and whispered “Not yet.” Ernie continued. “Nah, it’s the fucking MEXICANS!” I was perplexed. Now I was the one with the dumb, confused look on my face. I asked “What in the hell do the goddamn Mexicans got to do with this?!?” Ernie responded, “You’ll see, Bud. You’ll see!”
Just then Ernie, who had been driving like Mario Andretti on cocaine, violently wheeled us into a shopping plaza. I asked him what he was doing. Keep in mind that Ernie was in a purely manic state from the time I picked up my phone until this point. So I had not even been able to get the kill location from him.
Ernie said “This is where I killed that sumbitchin Bigfoot!!” I said “Where?!? At the damn Starbucks?!?” Ernie said “No. Down at the Mexican joint at the end of the plaza. ‘Caliente Loco’. Right THERE!” Ernie pointed to the other end of the plaza. I saw it. A Mexican restaurant.
When we got to the Mexican joint Ernie slammed on the brakes and brought us to a screeching stop, right in front of the place. Ernie jumped out, with rifle in hand, and yelled at me to follow. I got out and followed Ernie around to the back of the place. Ernie stopped in front of some dumpsters, looked around, and let out a screech. “It’s gone!!!! They took it!!! They took it!!! IT’S GONE!!!! THE FUCKING MEXICANS TOOK THE BODY!!!”
I had enough. I grabbed Ernie by the collar and bitch slapped him across the face, twice. I told him he better come clean to me right now and tell me exactly what happened or I was going to stick the barrel of my M4 up his ass and blow his colon out through the top of his head. Then I slapped him one last time.
Ernie then told me what happened. Apparently he eats at ‘Caliente Loco’ a couple times each week. One of the Mexicans told him that late one night after closing he was taking the trash out back and found a large hairy creature in a dumpster eating shit that was thrown out. It scared the hell out of him. He ran back into the restaurant, locked himself inside, and did not come out until morning.
All the illegals working there got real scared and started thinking it was the devil. The manager, Pablo, could not get any of them to take the trash out at night. So Ernie told them he would stake out the dumpsters and kill the beast in exchange for $100.00 and free tacos. Pablo agreed and the deal was made.
Old Ernie used an old refrigerator box as a hunting blind. He sat there night after night in the alley with his rifle and a bag of Cheetos, waiting for the beast. Then one night Ernie heard a rustling noise. He peaked out through a hole he cut in the box and saw this hairy creature bending over the side of the dumpster and going through the trash like it was looking for something to eat. Ernie said he got a bead on it and then “BAM!!”, he shot it. It only took one shot from his 45-70 gov. to bring it down.
Pablo came running out back at the sound of the gunshot. Ernie told him he had shot the beast. It was dark out back because the Mexicans are too cheap to install a security light. But they both saw the dead hulking body laying there on the ground. Pablo got excited and demanded that Ernie help him drag the dead beast inside the restaurant through the back door. Then they got into an argument. Ernie wanted to keep the body so he could stuff it and become famous as the man who killed Bigfoot. He was even fancying himself becoming the host of a Bigfoot hunting TV show.
Pablo, however, had other plans. It turned out that Pablo wanted to butcher the beast and grind it up for burrito meat to serve to his customers. That did not sit right with Ernie. All Ernie saw was dollar signs. But Pablo reminded him that the deal was $100.00 and free tacos, and nothing more. The two of them got into a heated argument. That is when Ernie stormed off to his truck, drove off, and called me.
When Ernie finished telling me his story he looked at me and said “Bud, we got to go in there and get that body”, as he pointed to the back door of the restaurant. I said “Ernie, have you lost your fucking mind?!? That’s breaking and entering, plus whatever happens when we get in there. They will put us in fucking prison.”
After Ernie whined a bit, and beat on the back door to no avail, I got Ernie to agree to leave provided that I come back with him the next day to confront Pablo. It was a was a quiet drive back home. I promised Ernie we would go down there when the restaurant opens at 11:00 am.
I got home around midnight and went to bed. The next morning I decided that I did not want to be any part of this bullshit, so at 8:00 am I decided to leave the house so I would not be there when Ernie arrived. I got my stuff, put on my jacket, and walked to my front door. I opened the door, and there stood Ernie. “Morning, Bud! You ready to go?”, he said.
We went and had some coffee. I tried talking Ernie out of going back to ‘Caliente Loco’ but he was having nothing to do with it. Eventually, 11 o’clock came around and we drove over to the restaurant. But when we arrived we were confronted with another problem.
The Mexican restaurant was surrounded by police cars. The building was wrapped in yellow crime scene tape. We walked up to the front door where a cop told us to get away from the crime scene. I lied and told the officer we were there for lunch and were curious as to what was going on there.
The policeman said that a homeless man was shot and killed in the alley out back last night. They got a call about a gunshot. After a couple hours they finally managed to get there and found traces of blood in front of a dumper out back, along with a blood trail leading to the back door of the restaurant. They secured the premises, got a search warrant, and eventually got inside, where they found the manager, Pablo, cooking. They also found the dismembered body of the dead homeless man laying on the floor of the kitchen.
I asked the cop who the homeless man was. He said they did not yet have a positive ID. But he told me it was a large black man with dreads and he was wearing a fur coat. I thanked the police officer then turned to Ernie and said “Well, I guess we better find somewhere else for lunch. Then we walked back to Ernie’s truck and got into the cab.
We both sat there for a moment in silence. Then Ernie asked “Bud, what are we going to do now?” I said “Well, I think you should take me home. Then I think we both need to forget all about this incident. Ernie then asked “Yeah, but Bud....How are we going to get my Bigfoot body out of there with all those cops around? Hell, they are gonna shut down the restaurant now that Pablo has been arrested!”
I looked at Ernie, shook my head, and told Ernie that he is a stupid motherfucker. “Take me home now, fuck head!”, I said to Ernie.
