Fourteen Beers at Chili's

Page 14

You can't help yourself. Sasquatch is sitting next to you, and you have to know why. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity that you simply can't pass up.

"Excuse me." You clear your throat. "I just couldn't help but notice—but—I mean, are you Sasquatch? Like, the Sasquatch?"

The furry monster swivels on his bar stool, angling his body toward you. To your surprise, he's wearing an AC/DC shirt. You didn't know Sasquatches liked classic rock. The shirt is too small for him, exposing his furry belly. You probably would have looked the same if you took Fabien's uniform.

"What did you just say?" Sasquatch's voice is deep and husky, like he smoked a pack a day. His deep yellow eyes narrow as his thin lips pull into a frown.

You wonder what brand of cigarette a Sasquatch would smoke. Probably Marlboro. You cand picture Sasquatch being a big fan of the Marlboro man. They are both rugged outdoorsmen. Does the Marlboro man also like AC/DC?

Wait, what is going on? You refocus and see Sasquatch glaring at you. Your question must have offended him. He must not have liked to be recognized in public. That's why there are so few photos of him.

Embarrassed, you pull at your collar. It feels tight all of a sudden. "I'm sorry to bother you. It's just that I didn't know your kind ate at Chili's."

"And what kind would that be?"

"Sasquatches, of course."

Your nose makes an awful crunching sound as Sasquatch's fist pummels it, knocking you sideways onto the floor. You never expected Sasquatch to have such a mean right hook. You assumed he was a more peaceful forest dweller. A gentle giant. There is nothing gentle about the giant that looms over you now. His hairy face contorts in rage as he clenches and unclenches his fists. You hope he doesn't take a second swing.

"Who do you think you're calling Sasquatch?" He snarls. "Say it again, I dare you."

"Did you come for the dollar beers?"

Sasquatch lets out a mighty roar, and all goes black as he pounces on you. You'd never make your fourteen beer goal now. If only you kept your fat mouth shut and minded your own business.

END.

BEER COUNTER: 11