SASQUATCH ATTACK!! - I was attacked by a Bigfoot while Delivering a Wagon Full of Asian Whoowahs to the Local Cat House

[Lord Long Rod]

Well sir, it been back in, ohhhhh, 1978 it be I reckon. See I wuz put on a prison chain gang fer a spell on account of being convicted fer “human trafficking”. Of course, that thar is jest one of them thar 10 dollar words fer “pimpin”. Wuz I a pimp? Well, I cain’t rightly say for sure. My main means of earning a living were making that good old mountain shine!! Corn licker! Pimpin were more of a hobby, ya know what I mean? Hell, they weren’t even American girls. Most of em were from Asia and South America or what not. And let’s make one thang fer shure clear: I ain’t a’talking about no underage girls either!! I ain’t no pervert. I may be a sexual predator and a credit risk, but I ain’t no goddamn pedo!



So, ya see, I rounded up this group of barely 18 year old immigrant chicks from the local YWMCA with promises of jobs and hot meals and sech. I put em all in the wagon, then took the reins. Good old Hillary, my mule, pulled us on into town. The girls did not know it, but I was herding them down to the local cat house know as “The Fuzzy Squatch”. There I was gonna consign them to the madam fer a few days, or weeks, and then have my 50% cut applied to my tab. As it were, I was in the red. I go down off inta town once a month to restock on canned goods, supplies, and take my monthly roll in the hay with some ratty old whoowah at the “The Fuzzy Squatch”. I usually pay prior to tearing up some pussy. But on this one night my old whoowah had a heart attack and died on me mid fuck! There wuz a lil bit of controversy about whether I knowd she was dead or not when I commenced to frogging her, and why I kept on after she started convulsing an sech. The fact is when I hits mid stride in my stroke I don’t notice much of anything. Hell, I did not even knowd that thar bitch were dead til I busted my nut all over her face, told her to lick it up, and she just layed thar like a stiff. After I punched her in the throat, yelled at her “LICK MY SPOOGE UP, BITCH!”, and she still did not moved, I realized she were dead.



So I suited up and walked out to the old parlor and lit me up a ceegar. After some flirting and mild finger penetration with the madam I said “Oh yeah, old Bertha is dead. She dropped deader than a door nail whilst I were pumping her.” Well, shit, you’d think I done said I had pissed in the punch bowl the way the madam started acting. She yelled out “MOTHER!!!” and went running back to Bertha’s room. I just shrugged my shoulders and started walking toward the door.



It were about then that two big old boys, Tommy 2-sacks and Tyrone Muhammad Black, caught up to me, one of each side and each grabbing an arm. They led me back to old Bertha’s room. One the way Tyrone sed, “Oh jeez, Mista Roy. I sho am sorry bout dis here.” Then Tommy spoke up, saying “Yeah Roy, I is sorry too.” I replied, “Now, now, don’t you two boys fret none bout old Roy. This here’s bout to be a cakewalk! I’s jest happy to be able to see you two fine, young gents jest one more time before you both die violent, untimely deaths.” The boys looked at each other with concerned looks on thar faces. Sure, they wuz both much bigger than I. But they wuz inexperienced and dumb. They also knowd that I regularly murder sasquatches with my bare hands, and by walloping em over thar heads with my huge pecker!



The boys throwed me on the floor of the old ****’s room. Thar was the madam, on her knees cradling her dead whore-ma. In fact, while hugging the old corpse the madam done up and got my man jam smeared all over her face and tits. I laughed and sed “My but you shore do look fine wearin my man mustard!! If’n ya’ll wanted sum of dat all ya had to do wuz ask. I would have gladly dumped a load on yer face and tits! Tyrone slapped the back of my head. I made a mental note to make him suffer pain prior his release into the great hereafter.



That crazy ass madam then started making all sorts of wild accusations about me fucking her ma to death, then continuing the poke post-mortem. She even accused me of fucking her from the get-go while she were dead. I told that crazy bitch that I don’t do necrophilia …any more… and that her whore-ma jest couldn’t take the excitement resulting from being boned by my big old hawg laig. I said “Shit bitch, what kinda sick fuck whores out thar own kin, let alone her mother?!? And even if’n ya’ll gonna whore out yer mama, ya gotta know that her old heart is gonna give out when she gets pumped with a great big old dinosauric penis like what I’s got. This shit here is YOUR FAULT!”



See, over the many years I have been alive I have determined that when you are dealing with a bitch who is in crazy mode, the best thang to do, if’n you can pull it off, is turn it around on her and make it HER fault. For example, if you get caught fucking another chick and yer wife finds out, you got to give a little and show sum contrition. But then you got to shift it back to her. What you do is say something like “Well, I know I did wrong. I was just remembering how sexy you used to look before you got all fat and sloppy. When I saw that pretty young thang she reminded me of how you used to look. I jest could not control myself. And on top of that, we barely have sex anymore so I was all pent up and such.”



See what I mean? Being married means you gets to share in the culpability! But with the old madam, thar weren’t no love lost. After a bit, though, she studied on my words and then came to her senses. She is, after all, a businessman with the morals of an insect. The bitch stands up, points her old bony fanger at me, and says “You owe me, Roy!” You owe me the costs of one good lady.” I said “Sheeyit…That bitch done had one foot in the grave well before I unzipped my pants. If’n I owe ya at all, its got to be at Skeevy old skank rates.” Again there was a pause. What I sed obviously made sense to the madam. Then she said “Deal”.



Of course, the old bitch knew what she was doing all along. She needed new merchandise because most of her pussies were either old as fuck or were dying of some venereal disease or crack use. She knew I was a hobby pimp. That is, I would import and distribute bitches to here and there. Now she had leverage over me. That fucking bitch!!! Hell, I would not be surprised to learn that the madam had poisoned her mother prior to me humping her just so she could earn this advantage.



So we dun worked us out a deal whereby I would gather up some relatively disease-free bitches and consign em to the madam. My 50% would go to paying for the madam’s dead mother. Of course, I had a hard time getting that thar debt paid off since ever time I went down thar I would bang one of them new gals myself. At first I told the madam it were fer quality control purposes. But after the second time I dun did that she put a stop to it.



So that is how I dun up and got in trouble fer pimping. Of course, jest so ya’ll gits the hole story, I put a bullet in that sorry ass Tyrone for slapping me on the back of my head. Then I held old Tommy at gun point while I made him dig Tyrone’s grave and bury him. I spared old Tommy’s worthless life. Though I did pistol whip the ever-loving shit out of him with the wooden butt of my .44 mag revolver. He dun got so fucked up that he talks with a stutter to this day.



So I were doing a lot of pimpin fer the old madam in order to pay off my debt at the whoowah house. I wuz delivering a load of about 5-6 girls every month to the madam. That may sound like a lot, but them thar little foreigners don’t live too long. This here arrangement started in, ohhhhh, January or February, I reckon. By summertime I wuz plum sick of it. But, the madam wuz making so much money from the imported cooch monkeys that she started giving me free puntang from her regular stable!! Eventually I was able to pay off my debt to her.



Well sir, this here deal kept on a’going. But then I ran into trouble in November. Ya see, that time is rutting season. Now, fer you plebes who don’t know, the rut is when animals mate. During deer season, fer example, the urge to fuck them does is so strong in the bucks that they throw caution to the wind and completely disregard their normally cautious manner in order to git thar deer dicks wet in sum of that thar deer cooch. This makes huntin em easier! It is also a life lesson to young men that pussy will fuck you up and ruin yer life!!



But it weren’t only ruttin season fer deer. No sir! It wuz also mating season for Sasquatch!! That’s right. Up here in these parts around Sasquatch Hollow, in November thar’s a forest full of horny, agitated Bigfoot roaming around and looking for a hole to stick thar fat hairy dicks into. If’n ya’ll out in the woods during the Sasquatch rut ya gotta either carry yer squatch gun or lube up yer asshole real good. You may even wanna do sum stretching exercises beforehand so you don’t end up in the ER with rectum trauma! You don’t wanna catch the goddamned rona at the hospital!!



So here’s how it wint. I picked up my monthly shipment of sex immigrants on the third Saturday of each month at midnight out back behind the local Dairy Queen. It wuz closed at that hour, of course. But the sand people who run it were still thar. I wuz able to pay them weird sumbitches off to stay quiet.



My contact wuz a swarthy little gent frum Mexico named Rubin jibber-jabber sumthang er other. Old Rubin wuld pull up in an old box truck covered in condom ads, open up the back, and then escort the whoowahs at gunpoint into the back of my old wagon where they are chained up. Frum thar I would haul the bitches off to the whore house.



Well sir, this one particular night during the drop I noticed an uneasy feeling hanging heavy in the air. It seemed like it were hard to breath cuz the air wuz so thick. Anyway, I took the bitches from Rubin, whipped my old mule, Hillary, and we started off through town. After midnight they ain’t too many out on the road. It’s usually jest pigs and drunks and human traffickers.



Now ya gotta understand here that the old Fuzzy Squatch, while a long-standing and accepted staple in the community, had to sit just outside of the city limits fer appearances. No self-respecting townie will stand fer having a fuck house located smack dab in the middle of town. No sir!!



The Fuzzy Squatch wuz located plum on the other side of town, just outside the city limits (but in plain sight of the city limits signage). Now listen up here cuz what I is a’fixin to say is important. Thar is about 2 miles between the point whar town ends and reaching the ho house. Along that stretch both sides of the road is nothing but woods … deep woods.



Ya see, our little town here ain’t too big. It am located smack dab in the middle of sum of the darkest, deepest, ball-shrinkingest mountainous wilderness you can imagine here in the high country of western North Carolina. The town were originally founded by a bunch of outlaw necropheliac bootleggers up on a flat parcel of land. Them damned old yankee sumbitches call it a “plat-tow”. But it’s jest a flat hilltop. More of them ten dollar werds.



So whilst transporting the bitches to “The Fuzzy Squatch” I had to go through this dark (no street lights) and desolate 2 mile stretch. As I already dun said, there wuz something creepy in the air tonight. It were because of this that I pulled my old .500 mag shootin iron from my britches and laid it out on the wagon bench seat next to me.



Well sir, bout halfway through this here spooky path of woods I heard a scrambling sound in the wagon behind me. I had me 7 bitches aboard my wagon tonight, all Asian … the brown kind. I turned around at the noise to find that one of them thar bitch had my revolver in her hand and wuz a’pointing it at me!! That little bitch had somehow untied her hands and grabbed my old shootin iron!!! Though I did notice that she were still chained by her leg to the deck of my old wooden wagon.



Maybe the most surprising thang is that the little oriental lady could speak English!! She commanded me to stop the wagon. I did. Then she told me to give her the keys to the lock keeping her chained to the wagon. I nodded my head and started fumbling fer it in my pocket.



Finally, I pulled something outa my pants and held it forward, toward the bitch. “Here it is baby!” The bitch said “That is not a key. That is your dick.” I replied “Whoops!! My mistake!! Hey, uh, darling, while I got my old sheep shanker out, why don’t ya take a taste, know what I mean?” I could tell that she were intent on escaping, but she was simultaneously drawn to my huge horse cock. I sed “You ain’t never seen one this big, have ya?”The bitch was completely dickmatized!



Then things took a wrong turn. The bitch put down my revolver, took my cock in both her hands, and pulled it toward her. She opened her mouth as wide as she could, looking to get her a taste. But she could not get it into her little Far Eastern mouth. She tried and tried, growing more agitated. Finally she gave up and forcefully threw down my meat stick onto the floor of the wagon. “THUMP!!!”, it went. “OOMPH!!”, I went.



“It’s too big! Just give me the key!!”, she sed. She had barely got the words out of her sweet little mouth before I wuz on her with my buck knife pressed up against her throat! “You dun fucked up now, bitch”, I sed. No bitch is going to blue-ball old Roy”, I sed. I put my free hand on her chest, then slowly started running it downward until I reached her warm, soft flesh. I could feel my cock getting hard. The bitch had her eyes closed and started trembling at my touch, which made my cock that much harder. Thangs were about to get savagely delicious! I whispered to her “If your pussy is too small for me I am going to use this knife to open it up a little wider.” Tears started streaming down her cheeks. My cock was about to fucking explode!



Well it were about that time that this low hum started emanating from the brush on the right side of the road. It was not so much that I heard it; I FELT it, and it were intense! I jerked my head around to the direction from which I thought the vibrating were coming. I thunk to myself “What in the hell …”. Then it dawned on it: it were Sasquatchic Infrasound!!



In case y’all don’t knowd what infrasound is, I is gonna tell ya. Infrasound is a sound made at such a low frequency that humans can’t hear it. But you can feel it vibrating yer insides. Sasquatch has the ability to produce and direct infrasonic vibrations. Other animals can do this too, like elephants, lions, and turkey.



The thing is, an infrasonic attack can fuck you up, especially from a Sasquatch. It vibrates yer innards. It can actually vibrate your brain and cause a concussion. It may result in headache, blurry vision, confusion, and even hallucinations. The vibrations can affect other organs. People been known to have involuntary bowel movements cuz of the vibrations. Now, back to this here story.



As soon as I dun realized I wuz being targeted with an infrasonic attack I heard the bitches moan, followed by loud, wet flatulence. I smelled the foul odor first. Then I realized that every one of these bitches dun shit themselves! “God Almighty!!”, I thought to myself. These little Asian whoowahs must be particularly vulnerable to infrasound because they is so small!



Then I felt something warm on my free hand. I looked down and discovered that the treacherous little bitch had shit on me! “You bitch!”, I sed, then slapped the piss out of her with my shit covered hand. In hindsight this wuz not the best move I could have made because the impact of the slap made the shit blow off my hand on all over everbody, including yours truly!



“FUCK!! I GOT IT IN MY MOUTH!!”, I howled. Now sir, I have me an iron constitution. Almost nothing is gonna git all over me and make me sick. But shit in my mouth is an exception, especially when it is still wet and warm!



I felt the puke rising up my throat. I jumped off the wagon, stumbled to the side of the road, then crumpled to my knees and started puking violently. The still emanating infrasonic vibrations made the puking worse. Meanwhile, the bitches in my wagon were still farting and shitting, moaning and starting to sob with despair.



Just as I finished puking and started trying to catch my breath, I noticed that the vibrations had stopped. “Thank God!”, I thought. But something wuz wrong. That is, notwithstanding the piss and shit overflowing from sides of my wagon, something else was wrong. I looked up in front of me, off the side of the road. Thar it stood. A Sasquatch!



That sumbitch were standing not more than 6 feet away frum me. It were HUGE!! It were standing straight up at a height of not less than 14 feet! The motherfucker’s shoulders were 5-6 feet across. The sumbitch were solid black. I could hear it’s labored breathing. I also noticed it were a’showing its teeth. Thing were going from bad to worse real fast!



Stupidly, I had not armed up like I usually do. All I had on me wuz my .500 mag and that little old 12 inch buck knife. Now, my revolver wuz submerged in the whores’ shit and piss in the wagon, and my knife accidentally got stuck in the treacherous bitch’s throat. So here I wuz, 6 feet away from a monstrous Sasquatch showing it’s teeth. “Well sheeyit”, I sed to myself, “Well Roy, you gonna half to fight a big old Bigfoot with jest yer bare hands again.”



As I balled up my fists I figured my first move would be to git a good hold on that thar Bigfoot’s balls then bite em off. But first, I noticed something. The damned old critter, which had now commenced to growling, wuz staring at the bitches in the wagon. It weren’t even looking at me!! I wuz not even sure it knowd I wuz here. Maybe all the fartin and cryin frum all them whoowahs drowned out my puking.



I decided to slowly belly-crawl off to the side to get outa the Bigfoot’s way. It were clear to me that the monster wuz, fer whatever reason, about to physically attack my wagon. Unfortunately, I did not move fast enough! That damned old Sasquatch lunged at my wagon, stepping on my left hand as it went. “OUCH!! YOU NO GOOD MOTHERFUCKER!!”, I yelled. But it did not hear me. The beast had already started tearing those bitches to pieces!!



Without a weapon I deecided to sit this one out and crawled my ass into the bushes to watch. Here’s what happened. For whatever reason, the massive Bigfoot charged my wagon. It picked up the near side and flipped it over, causing all the twats to fly out. It also caused the deluge of shit and piss to spill out all over its feet. This seemed to really agitate the monster!



It started grabbing up them thar Asian whores like rag dolls and ripping off thar heads. It even tore some of em in half!! It was fast and it was furiously done by the critter in a fit of rage! The road wuz now covered in a disgusting cocktail of blood, piss, shit, and guts.



With all the bitches now thoroughly shredded, worse than any horror movie would dare, the Bigfoot just stood thar in the middle of its carnage looking around whilst it caught its breath. I was frozen and still hiding in a bush.



Then the Bigfoot turned its attention to my old mule, Hillary. It took 2 steps toward Hillary and wuz right thar over it. Instinctively I blurted out “NO!” and gave my location away out of fear the monster would kill Hillary and leave me stranded. The Sasquatch turned the upper half of its body and looked at me. As it did, it reached down with its gargantuan left hand and started stroking Hillary’s fur. The sumbitch wuz petting my mule!



The raunchy old ape had already made me, so I stepped outa the bush. I wuz only about 10 feet away from the Bigfoot. We wuz jest staring at one another while the monster continued petting Hillary the mule. I then looked out across all the horrific carnage. The Sasquatch did the same.



After a moment our eyes met again. I think that each of us were plotting our next move. Suddenly, that big old monster got a big grin on its face. If you ain’t never seen one of them thar Appalachian Bigfoots, then you probably don’t know that they have very wide mouths. An average critter can hold 3 softballs in its mouth at one time, that’s how big they are. So when I say that this mangy fuck had a wide grin on its face, I means that that thar sumbitch had a WIDE GRIN on its face! Apparently, the thang wuz quite pleased with itself and its handiwork!



I burst out in uncontrollable laughter! The Bigfoot dun did the same thing! That big boy had a loud, boisterous laugh. It were damn near deafening it wuz! I wuz laughing at the fact that this beast gets its shits and giggles from mangling bitches. I don’t know why the hell the beast wuz laughing. Maybe fer the same reason?



After exhausting our capacity fer side-splitting laughter, we both said our goodbyes through our eyes as we shared good-hearted gazes. The big old critter even gave me a curt, barely noticeable nod of his head. I returned the gesture and raised my right hand to waive goodbye. The monster then turned and walked off into the woods. I stood thar fer a minute and pondered on this encounter. I thought that, hell, if all them thar Sasquatch were a good natured and fun loving like this here sumbitch I could learn to git along with em. Hell, I’d probably even cut back on killing and eating them.



Just then I heard a car approaching frum the west. It wuz coming from town. I then seen its headlights. “Oh fuck, this is jest what I need now”, I sed to myself. As the car got closer it turned on its red and blue lights, indicating it was a police car. I sed “Oh, shit fire! It’s jest old Sheriff!” I then began to relax. See, I been knowing old Sheriff fer years and years. I used to fuck his maw!



Old Sheriff pulled up and stopped just shy of all the carnage. Holy smokes, it wuz a mess! The road were covered in a mixture of blood, piss, shit, and gore. The only thang that rose up out of the mess were dead whore body parts, and they had bones penetrating through the skin.



Well sir, old Sheriff pull up, stopped, and got out of his patrol car. He hiked up his pants and deliberately unbuckled the leather retention on his duty pistol so I could see it. He saw that move performed by Sheriff Buford T. Justice in the opening minutes of “Smokey and the Bandit”.



Sheriff then sauntered forward with a slow and deliberate stride that made it appear he wuz trying to look like John Wayne. I rolled my eyes at the pathetic display. Because it was dark as hell Sheriff had not yet identified me. When he were within 10 yards of me he said “Well now, booooyyy. What you be doin out here at this hour?” I turned on my flashy light so the dumbass lawman could see my face. “It’s ME, fuck face!!”, I said. Then I violently punched Sheriff in his fucking throat. He fell like a sack of tasters!!



After a couple minutes of that fat fuck rolling round on the ground and gasping fer breath, Sheriff finally got to his feet, still clutching his throat. I had already got my old wagon turned back over and got back up in it, gittin ready to turn her round and head back to town. I felt thar were no reason to show up at “The Hairy Squatch” tonight. If’n I showed up without the Asian whoowahs that crusty old madam would fly into a rage. The dirty bitch!



Old Sheriff walked over to the side of my old wagon, just a stomping through all the guts and ripped flesh littering the road. He sed “Oh Roy!! I didn’t mean to make ya mad! Is that why ya went and punched me? Cuz I made ya mad?” I thought to myself, my God… what a pathetic ****. A total cuck, literally! I used to fuck his old lady in front of him. He justified it as couple’s therapy to “spice up” thar marriage. I told Sheriff that I called ‘Bullshit’, and sed, “No, you fat shithead! This is called you being cucked!” And do you know that fucktard does not even know what ‘cuck’ means?



I told Sheriff, “No, shithead, you did not make me mad. You jest frustrate me.” He started to reply when I realized I had reached my fill of him, so I shouted at him “GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY, YOU USELESS, STUBBY DICKED FUCK STAIN!!”



Sheriff stepped to the side and allowed me and old mule Hillary to git my wagon turned around. Just before taking off old Sheriff raised his hand and waived, then sed “Well ok, Roy. We’ll be seein ya later. Have a good un!”



It took all my self-control not to pull my revolver and explode Sheriff’s head like a melon right there and then. But …. But, I needed him. He controls the law in these here parts. So it’s good to have him under my thumb regardless of how fucking annoying he is.



Suddenly a thought hit me. I pulled the reins on old Hillary to make her stop. I looked down at old Sheriff. Seeing me stop the wagon (implying more interaction) put a smile on his stupid face and caused his eyes to grow in eager anticipation. My right hand was now tightly clutching my revolver. “Hold on, now Roy. Just keep yer shit together”, I sed to myself.



I looked down at Sheriff, who were still oblivious to all the gore he was standing in, and which covered the entire road, and I sed “What the fuck are YOU doing out here at this hour, numb nuts?” Sheriff replied, “Oh, I wuz jest on the way out to “The Fuzzy Squatch” to git me sum pussy!” I nodded in understanding and whipped the reins on my bitch mule, Hillary. As we started forward I looked down at Sheriff and sed “Take it easy, fuck face! I’ll be seeing ya.” Old Sheriff waved, got back in his patrol car and started heading east.



Knowing that Mrs. Sheriff is home alone tonight got me to thinking about stopping by to see her. And while that would have been a good “fuck you” to Sheriff, that old wrinkled bitch had put on a lot of weight recently. I guess that’s why old Sheriff wuz headed to the whore house. Even HE don’t want to fuck his wife, which undermines the burn you usually cause when you fuck another man’s bitch.



So, I just drove my old wagon back home, up to Sasquatch Hollow. When I got home I put a Cannibal Corpse CD inta the player, blasted the speakers, took a good hit of H, and stuck “Anal Intruder 16” into my old VHS machine. This here is the fucking life! I wouldn’t trade being a mountain fer anythang!

 

[tyroneweaver]

The best part of your story is when Brigham Young wrestled with the bear and fell out of the Salt lake Temple window into the Great Salt lake

 

[Lord Long Rod]

The best part of your story is when Brigham Young wrestled with the bear and fell out of the Salt lake Temple window into the Great Salt lake

8==>

 

[GLASNOST]

I was attacked by a Bigfoot​

Such is the power of the Deep State: