TAGGING THE NORTH AMERICAN BIG FOOT

By Tim Colin
Associate Editor,
Humor News Nuts Publications
Although there is not much that you can legally hunt this time of year, it is good to be preparing yourself for hunting season. This year I intend on bagging me one of those big foot monsters that scare away the entire tourist from Northern Michigan. The problem with the typical big foot monster is that they are dark colored and very hard to see at night. Nighttime is the best time to hunt big foots because that is when most of the conservation officers are sleeping.

I have come up with a unique way of solving the coloring issue of the big foot monster. I intend on creeping up to the big foot monsters while they are feeding and paint a large fluorescent ‘X” on the sides of the creatures. In order to minimize the danger to myself, I have with me my younger brother Mike who is going to assist me by actually painting these large, powerful and, hungry beasts. While my brother paints the beast with an “X” I will be hiding in the bushes ready to dial 911 in case something bad happens to my brother. I am just glad that I had the foresight to realize that this was a job that would take two people.

The paint I was using was some I picked up at the county garage. They had a lot of it sitting around so I figured they wouldn’t mind if I borrowed a five gallon bucket. That just made one less can that they would have to deal with.

The bait I was using to lure the big foots in was a garbage sack full of Walleyes. My uncle Mike had gone fishing down south of a chemical plant in Midland. He scooped up a whole bunch of fish with his net. The fish couldn’t swim too well because of all the large tumors they had growing all over them. My uncle soon found out that he couldn’t clean the fish because the stuff oozing from the tumors was eating through the steel of his fish fillet knife.

After my brother poured out the fish on the ground we both hid in the bushes. It was only about ten minutes later when a large brown big foot showed up. It ate on the fish for a couple of minutes before my brother finally got up the guts to go out there to paint an “X” on the creature. My younger brother had a dripping paint bush in his hand as he slowly edged up to the big foot monster. “Hurry up,” I yelled at him, “We don’t have all day,”

Well my hollering must have got the bears attention since he immediately charged my brother and swiped him across his belly with his enormous claw. My brother fell to the ground like a sack of flour. He just laid there shaking and bleeding. AS for the bear, he just turned around and went back to eating the fish. I starting laughing and had an awful time stopping long enough to call 9-11. Just thinking abut my brother lying twitching like he was still brings a smile to my face. The only bad thing is that the big foot ate up all my bait and I didn’t even get him tagged with florescent paint.

My brother only ended up having the front of his shirt tore to shreds and a few scratches. After a hundred or so stitches my brother was ready to go home. It looks like this year I am just not going to have any advantage at all hunting big foots here in Northern Michigan.

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NORTHERN MICHIGAN LIZARD MONSTER BECOMES MORE DANGEROUS

By Ted Collin
Associate Editor
Humor News Nuts Publications

The lizard monster is getting bigger and feeding more. He has spread his siege of terror across Benzie, Grand Traverse and now Leelanau counties. Campers and residents alike have fallen victim to his voracious appetite for bacon. Unfortunately, this creature is growing not just in reputation but, he is getting much bigger than he was when the fist reports started coming in.

The once foot tall creature is now almost three feet tall. It seems he has gone from being a lizard boy to being a lizard tween (not quite a teenage lizard but, no longer just a boy). Lizardologists (scientist who study lizards) would call him a twizzard. The real problem now is that with the growth of his physical body, this absconder of pork products now has an even more voracious appetite.

The latest reported victims were a couple in their 60’s who recently retired from downstate to a quiet cottage just outside of Suttons Bay. Dr. and Mrs. Stein Franken were the last victims of the lizard creature’s appetite. This was an especially cruel attack since the good Dr. Franken and his wife had moved to Northern Michigan to get away from the stigma the couple felt for the involvement of Dr. Franken in the creation of the monster known as the Franken Moose. The Doctor and his wife were sure they could put the past behind them in their quiet woodland cottage far from the technologies that made the creation of the Franken-Moose monster possible. Oh, does fate have no pity?

The incident with the lizard creature occurred a few days ago. It was a hot summer evening and the Franken family had a few neighbors over for a pool party and a luau, complete with a traditional pig roast. Just as everyone was skinny dipping and splashing about in the pool, a smashing noise came from over near the roasting pig. Dr. and Mrs. Franken along with their neighbors climbed out of the pool and approached the roasting pig witch was on the other side of a hedge. As they round the hedge they saw a three foot tall lizard like creature with suction cups on the ends of its fingers and a suction cup for a mouth, holding up the entire pig carcass with one end in each hand and eating it from side to side like an ear of corn. The creature looked directly at the crowd but did not stop eating. Instead, he grimaced like he was annoyed at the people watching him eat, stuffed the carcass under one arm like a football and exited through the hole in the privacy fence that he had originally broken through. Then, he ran off into the woods behind the cottage.

None of the skinny dippers would go after the great lizard since behind the privacy fence were several large poison ivy plants. As soon as it got dark enough so no one could see them, the neighbors went home leaving the Frankens to suffer alone. . The party was ruined and all the participants will need many years of psychoanalysis to remove the trauma from their psyche.

The Frankens already lost a daughter over the Franken-Moose tragedy. She no longer has anything to do with her parents except over the summer and holiday breaks. She also calls them every week to get money since, she is now a junior at Central Michigan University. Beyond that, she never speaks to them.

How much longer can the people of Northwestern Michigan put up with these cruel attacks? We are suffering so much and yet, the federal government does nothing to protect our pork products from this lizard monster. Perhaps it will take the killing of other animals before the federal government decides to get involved. If this creature were killing off some endangered species of mosquito then, the feds would be all over this story.

Well, I digress. We just need some relief. If you can’t count on your pork being protected by your government then, what good is your government? Please, someone just help us stop this monster.

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THE SKEGEMOG LAKE MONSTER

HUNTING THE SKEGEMOG LAKE MONSTER
By Tim Collin

Skegemog Lake is located in Northern Michigan and is visible from highway U.S. 72. Much of the lake is surrounded by a protect protected natural habitat, hiking area which is famous for the abundance of Michigan rattlesnakes. Rattlesnakes do not usually bother people but, they do not like to be stepped on. Someone once told me that the venom of the Michigan Rattlesnake is fifty times more powerful than most other rattlesnakes so, it must really hurt if you get bit.

A few days ago I read on the Internet that the rattlesnakes in Skegemog Lake have been hard to find lately. In addition, fishing has also been really poor there recently. When I talked about this at the bar yesterday a man from Midland Michigan said that the reason the fish and snakes are disappearing is because of the giant snapping turtles that live in the lake. One in particular is a monster over 20 feet long and is known by locals as “Old Skeggy”.I asked the man from Midland Michigan how he knew so much about the problem in Skegemog Lake. He said that he was a turtleolgist (someone who studies turtles). He introduced himself as Bugzy and said he’d be willing to mount an expedition to find Old Skeggy if I would put up the $15.00 to rent a canoe. I agreed to his terms and the next morning we were standing on the shore of Lake Skegemog with our aluminum canoe. I had my brother Mike accompany us because if we found Old Skeggy we were going to try to put a large fish net over it. I figured we could use an extra hand to haul in a giant snapping turtle.

As we neared the center of the lake we noticed lightning off in the distance. The clouds were really black and the storm seemed to be moving in our direction. My brother Mike was concerned that we might get hit because we were in an aluminum canoe. However, Bugzy said that the aluminum would conduct the lightning bolts away from our body and we were much safer than if we were in a fiberglass canoe. Besides, the fiberglass canoes were an extra $5.00 to rent for the day.

Mike also wondered why we did not have a more substantial boat to go after such a large monster. Bugzy pointed out that a canoe is more maneuverable than a large boar and we could get right up near shore if we had to. Besides, if a canoe is flipped over it is easy to flip it right side up. A larger boat would be nearly impossible to flip quickly and with rattlesnakes and giant turtles in the water, you want to get back in the boat as fast as possible if it flips. Bugzy further stated that he knew what he was doing because he was a scientist with a background in turtleology. With such credentials how could anyone argue with Bugzy?

Just as the black thunderheads started to roll in and rain began to sprinkle down, some large, massive saucer shaped object soared past us at no more than three feet away. The thing must have been 15 feet long. When the object got about twenty feet away, a head popped up and turned an eye back at us then, the head went back under the waves. The waves were getting bigger as the wind increased. The sky had turned totally black and the rain was wiping down on us as we sat in the middle Skegmog Lake.

Lightning bolts came down like spider legs all along the shore. My Brother Mikes’ hair became really kinky like he just had one of grandma’s permanents. Then, suddenly, the entire canoe was raised out of the water and we found ourselves traveling on top of the giant snapping turtle. He swam toward the shoreline at the speed of a motor boat. Mike and I just sat still hoping the thing was not going to eat us once we were closer to shore. Bugzy was busy pulling up the fish net we had laying in the canoe. I figured our turtleologist must have a plan to save us from certain death.

When our canoe was just about 50 feet from shore Old Skeggy sank down like a submarine and our canoe went riding off into shallow water. Mike and I jumped out of the canoe and ran for our lives until we reached shore. We turned around to see Bugzy with his net, trying to ensnare Old Skeggy. Bugzy managed to get the net over Old Skeggy but the turtle used his beak to slice through the net and swam off to deeper water. Bugzy walked slowly up to the shore with his head held low. He was so dejected that Old Skeggy had gotten away when we were so close to capturing him. Just as Bugzy stepped on shore the canoe was hit by several bolts of lightning at once and exploded. The orange glowing metal pieces feel back into the lake and sizzled as they sank to the bottom.

Mike was the first to speak and said that he thought Old Skeggy had saved our lives. Bugzy did not say another word until we had a couple of beers at the bar. Then he told us that he was going to give up turtleology and become a truck driver. Bugzy said that he had been a truck driver until Tuesday. That was the day he decided he would try being a turtleologist.

The only thing good about this adventure for me is that I did not end up paying a fine or having to do community service which, seems to be my usual reward for being curious about the out of doors and life in general. I did have to pay $300 to the canoe rental business for failing to take better care of the canoe.

We did not get bit by any rattlesnakes but, there is a giant snapping turtle in Skegemog Lake. I do not think he was trying to hurt us and in fact, he may have saved us. I also learned that turtleologist don’t know anything about lightning strikes. I leaned that just because someone is a genius in one scientific field it does not mean they know anything about any of the other sciences.

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FLYING FACE SLAPPING CARP INVADES MICHIGAN

Lake Michigan and other inland lakes are prone to sudden and horrific storms which can sink or capsize a canoe or a giant tanker. Once in the water many boaters succumb to sharks, rattle snakes or, the infamous piranha toothed yellow bellied perch. According to the Department of Natural Resources (DNR) an even more insidious creature has now invaded Michigan waterways. This creature is known as the Giant Flying Face Slapping Chinese Zombie Carp or GFFSCZC for short. Since you can only pronounce GFFSCZC as an acronym if you are from Eastern Europe, we will simply call these creatures by their scientific name, Brainious Deadious Slapious Crapious (carp is an anagram for crap) or by their even shorter scientific nickname, Slapcrapper.

The slapcrapper came into Michigan via the Mississippi network of rivers. It is thought to be a hybrid mix of piranha, tiger shark, and common Chinese gold fish and, the flying brain eating zombie squirrel of North and Central America. It is obvious that only the government working in conjunction with some kind of evil aliens from outer space or some alternative universe could have created such an onerous slap happy ,brain eating creature.

According to DNR biologist Dr. Justin Sane, the slapcrapper is the cause of several injuries in and around Michigan waterways. Dr. Justin Sane described the attacks of the slapcrapper as “unpredictable and horrific”. Dr. Sane said that, “the slapcrapper waits for an unsuspecting fishing boat to go by and then, the slapcrapper will leap from the water and slap with his tail an unsuspecting fisherman on the side of the head. The slap will usually result in a quantity of brains being knocked out of the ear of the fisherman upon which the slapcrapper and his friends will feed. Although most fishermen can loose up to 90% of their brains before they notice any mental impairment overtime, if slapped enough, the fisherman could be reduced in mental ability to the point that they have to give up the sport of fishing and take up a more mundane sport like water skiing.”

HOW THE FRANKENMOOSE MONSTER SAVED CHRISTMAS

By Bob White
I have been following the legendary Frankenmoose, the one created by Dr. Stein Franken currently of Suttons Bay Michigan and formerly of Frankenmuth Michigan. It is said that Dr. Franken created his creature after a circus truck hit a moose just outside of Frankenmuth Michigan. The circus truck had a human driver and a full-grown Siberian tiger in the back. Dr. Franken could only find enough living tissue from the three victims to put together a single creature. The creature was part tiger, part moose and, part human. Although there are, other creatures called Frankenmoose this creature was in part named after its creator, Dr. Stein Franken.

Because Dr. Franken had created this monster in an area not zoned for creating monsters, he had to keep its existence a secret. Dr. Franken and his family nursed the creature back to health and the Frankenmoose eventually became one of the family. Everything went well until the Frankenmoose was burned on the behind by the family bratwurst grill. The fire and the burning sensation it caused, seemed to make the creature go mad. It went on a rampage of destruction all across the state. Finally, the Men in Dark Suits (MIDS) were able to trap the beast and send it off to a secret underground military base located beneath the sand dunes in Leelanau County Michigan.

The Frankenmoose had the wiles of a tiger, the intelligence of a human and the strength of a moose so; it was not long before the creature escaped the maximum-security base. After his escape, the Frankenmoose knew he would have to find work. He read the local papers and found an advertisement for a four-legged animal that could work hauling logs for an environmentally friendly logging company. It seems the company had a horse but the horse became old and had to be retired to the Grand Rapids Glue Factory and Retirement Home for Horses.

The Frankenmoose easily convinced the owners of the lumber company that he would be an effective animal employee who could carry several times his weight up a steep hill. On the day before Christmas, there was a terrible winter storm. The Frankenmoose was happily hauling large red pine logs up hill to an awaiting truck when suddenly a snowmobile smashed into the truck and an old white bearded man went flying through the air and landed on top of the left antler of the Frankenmoose. “Ouch,” went the old man as he rolled off the antler of the Frankenmoose and feel into the hard packed snow.

The truck driver, who was also the owner of the lumber company, jumped out of his truck cab and ran over to where the old man laid. “Are you hurt old timer?” the lumberjack asked.

“I’m fine,” the old man replied, “but, I’ve got to get to the toy factory in Mancelona and pick up some toys and take them to the orphanage in Kalkaska. I make this trip every year.”

The old man struggled to his feet, got on top of his snowmobile, and tried to start it. The engine would not even turn over. “Phooey Sticks,” the old man cursed, “I’m not going no where with this machine.”

The Monster had been listening to every word and had an idea. The great beast suddenly started burping and snorting in what seemed to be very chaotic patterns. Nonetheless, the lumberjack and the hold man listened intently. “The creature is signaling in Morris code!” exclaimed the old man.

“I know,” retorted the truck driver, “this creature is part human and the human part was in the navy just like I was. Morris code is how the creature communicates. I think he is saying that he will pull you and your snowmobile to the toy factory and back to the orphanage in Kalkaska.”

With the help of the lumberjack, the Frankenmoose was soon harnessed up to the snowmobile and running along the highway on his way to the little town of Mancelona. It was not more than an hour before the colored Christmas lights of Mancelona could be seen flickering in the distance. Then, just about a mile before the Frankenmoose got to town; a large ogre stepped out onto the snowmobile trail and blocked the only passage to town. The Frankenmoose stopped. “Oh no,” said the old man to the moose. “It is the nasty Pinecone Ogre. He eats pinecones all day and then his stomach gets so upset that he becomes mean and tries to ruin everyone’s day.”

The Frankenmoose was undaunted. He simply bent his head down and hurled himself with the snowmobile in tow, directly toward the Ogre. The Ogre would not move but simply growled and howled at the oncoming monster. The bad natured Ogre was no match for the Frankenmoose for the big rack of the monster caught up the Ogre and the Ogre was soon flying high to the other side of the county.

The Frankenmoose and the old man were soon sledding through the Christmas decorated village of Mancelona. Colored lights and ding-dong bells were all along both sides of the street. When they came up to an old abandoned and boarded up cheese factory, the old man said ‘Whoa,’ and the Frankenmoose came to a stop. The old man whistled and an overhead garage door at one end of the building slid up and the Frankenmoose hauled the old man and his busted sled inside. Inside the old building was a well-lit modern toy factory with hundreds of tiny persons dressed up like Christmas elves, working diligently packaging and wrapping thousands of toys.

The Frankenmoose was so captivated by the toy factory that he could not grunt or belch out a single word. In the mean time, the old man had disappeared into an office and reappeared dressed as Santa Claus. “Ho, Ho, Ho,” said the old man. “I bet you are wondering what is going on my monster friend,” the old man said to the Frankenmoose. “You’ve probably guessed that I am really Santa but, no doubt you are wondering why I don’t have my regular sleigh and reindeer and also why am I making toys down here in Northern Michigan? Well, I do not have my reindeer here because so many people shoot deer for food here in Northern Michigan so, I left my friends down state where they would not be injured. I set up a factory here because elves are willing to work more cheaply here in Mancelona then they are up in the Artic Circle. It is nice here with all the lakes, beaches, and fun things to do. In addition, by saving money on wages I can put more money into making toys for the little girls and boys.

The Frankenmoose was glad he had helped the old man and was happier still when they delivered the toys to the orphanage and the monster saw the happy faces of the little boys and girls. The Frankenmoose had made a friend in old Santa Claus and had helped bring a little joy into the lives of orphans. The Frankenmoose had saved Christmas for all the little children at the orphanage. He did not feel like a monster that night but instead, felt like a hero and even a little bit human.

ATTACK OF THE BRAIN EATING, FLYING, ZOMBIE SQUIRRELS

Tim Colin
Recently, Northern Michigan suffered an outbreak of giant, brain eating, flying, zombie, squirrels. The first of these creatures was observed near the famed Sleeping Bear Dunes National Park. It is widely known that beneath the park is a government run, super secret, experimental sciences laboratory known as Area 91.

The modus operandi of these monsters is to swoop down upon their victims from behind and then proceed to gnaw through the skull and into the brain cavity. Then, the zombie squirrels eat every single brain cell. So far there have been over two dozen victims. None of the victims have fully recovered from their attack. Most of theses brain cell challenged individuals don’t seem to miss their brains too much however, after a while each victim seems to go in to a zombie trance and then, the new zombies begin to try to eat the brains out of non-zombies. It is almost like they are trying to replace the brains they lost by stealing as a meal, the brains of the non-dead.

In addition to their bad behavior, each person who transitions into the zombie state has no pulse and feels cold to the touch. The disease spreads between humans just as it spreads from squirrel to human. Each person attacked by human zombies also becomes stone cold and has no heartbeat. It seems that the virus is transmitted only through saliva since in order to get the disease; the potential victim must be bitten. Once bitten, the victim has a 100% chance of coming down with the disease. The disease is of course incurable and the only treatment is to destroy any brain cells that zombie might have. You have to hit the zombie in the head to stop them. Otherwise, they will simply get up and pursue another victim.

I have recruited my friend Gerrard to help to stop this zombie epidemic in Northern Michigan before it becomes a world wide pandemic. Gerrard raises rats in his mother’s basement for scientific experiments so; he has some knowledge of rodent behavior. I also consulted local Traverse City psychic Madam Misty Merkel. She in turn consulted a friend oh her’s who is a witch. The witch told Madam Misty that the best person to talk to would be someone from Jamaica. In almost every old zombie movie the person who gave the zombie life was either from Jamaica or Hattie. The witch insisted that zombies are created by persons who practice the art of voodoo.

After consulting the web, Gerrard found that there was a Jamaican living in Saginaw Michigan and working at Delta College who was on loan from the Jamaican University of Occult Arts and Crafts. We immediately contacted this man and after intense negotiations, he agreed to meet with us for $15.00 and a carton of menthol flavored cigarettes.

The learned Jamaican was Professor Main E. Ack. The professor was assigned to the custodial sciences at Delta College while his credentials are being checked and pending the outcome of his deportation hearing. The professor has listed on his face book page
that he is the world’s foremost expert on mammals with brain eating disorders.

When I met the professor I noticed that he did not have dreadlocks. When I mentioned this to him he accused me of being a racist and besides, he was actually from Brazil but had to go to Jamaica to study the occult sciences at university level because he did not have the grades to study the occult sciences in Brazil.

Professor Ack did give us one very important information that we did not have before. It seems that according to a History News Nuts blog, brain eating squirrels were common to North America until the time of Columbus. Columbus and his brother discovered that by hitting the squirrels directly in the head you could kill them. Since that time brain eating zombie squirrels were thought to be extinct.

After we gave Professor Ack his $15.00 and a case of menthol cigarettes, Gerrard and I returned to our base in Traverse City. We now knew exactly how to stop the brain eating zombie squirrels and the humans they had infected. You had to hit them in the head. That was the only way to stop them. Hit them in the head with a bullet, a ball bat or a golf club, it did not matter. The brain had to be destroyed or whatever brain cells were left after other zombies had feasted on the head.

It was not long until everyone in the Traverse City area was hunting down zombies and bashing their brains in. Traverse City area residents used various methods to destroy the zombified squirrels and humans. Some residents used golf clubs. Some used coffee cups with the most exquisite latté in them. Others used such brain killers as hockey sticks, tether balls and lawn jarts. In the end, zombism died in the forests of Grand Traverse and Benzie counties.

Although all know zombies were wiped out there are still several unresolved questions regarding the zombie outbreak? First of all, why did the zombie outbreak get started in the first place? Have there always been zombie brain eaters out there that we ignored until a massive outbreak was staring us in the face?

Another interesting question is what part did area 91 play in the zombie outbreak? Do the scientists that play god under the sand dunes have some chemical that causes the dead to become undead and crave brains? Is this some sort of military experiment?

Perhaps the scientists who work at area 91 under the sand dunes have some sort of time travel machine. Maybe they retrieved diseased animals from the past before Christopher Columbus and his brother eradicated the little monsters from our continent.

One other interesting issue is that we were attacked by brain eating flying zombie squirrels. Clearly, the history books state that the original brain eating zombie squirrels swung down from vines to attack their victims. They could not fly evidently or, they would not have had to swing down. Was the change from regular squirrels attacking humans on vines and the current monsters being capable of flight, an accident of nature or the hand of man at work making a killing machine just that much more perfect in design?

FISHING FOR THE MICHIGAN PIRANHA

By Mike Collin
Back when I was a kid, my dad would take me to his secret fishing hole and there he would teach me how to fish for piranha. He said he was the only one who knew about the spot. It seems that when he was a kid he stole his uncle’s pet piranhas and released them in a small lake way out in the woods. Over time, the piranhas took over the lake and were the only fish left. He told me these piranhas were an especially aggressive variety that were used to living in really cold water. My dad said that the piranha would eat ducks, geese, rabbits, deer or, any animal that happened to wander into the water.

I’ve been feeling like eating fish lately so, yesterday I rode my bike to my dad’s favorite piranha fishing spot in Western Lower Michigan. I had to ride my bike because my eyesight is still a bit blurry. I still have a bit of nerve damage from the accident. It seems that my brother Tim had a muscle spasm the last time we were playing lawn jarts. Well, the jart ended up being stuck in the middle of my forehead. I wanted to leave it stuck in because it made me look tough and it really impressed the ladies. You should have seen the looks I got at the bar. No one had a body piecing like the big orange spear I had in the middle of my head. After a couple of days I was getting really dizzy so I went to the doctor and she removed it. She told me the only reason I survived was that my skull was thinker than what most people have. I guess that‘s something to brag about.

Well, anyway, after going down an old two track lumber trail I got to lake I found out my can of worms was full of dead, smelly night crawlers. Luckily, there was a pile of rotten leaves nearby and it was not long before I had a couple dozen leaf worms. Before I picked up the leaf worms I had tossed the rotten night crawlers out into the lake to help chum for fish.

Unfortunately, no fish showed up and then I remembered how my dad taught me to fish for piranha. So, I took off my shoes and socks and waded out into the water until I was standing knee deep. It was a quiet morning so there were no waves. This made it easy for me t look around to observe any fish. I then began wiggling my toes in the water. I still did not see any fish coming. I then stated raising fist one foot up and then the other, each time wiggling my toes like little hairy caterpillars. Suddenly several dozen piranha came rushing in at my feet and began biting at my toes. I quickly ran back to the shore. Even though I was up on the shore I had three large piranhas holding onto my feet with their teeth. I was very pleased. I hadn’t been there five minutes and I already had a good start on a fish fry. I caught seven more fish on my fishing pole before my worms ran out. It was fine since I had enough fish to clean that day for a fish fry dinner for myself and my new girlfriend.

I did not end up bleeding too much after piranha fishing that day. I remember getting bit really bad by piranhas when I was a kid but, this time I only had a few chunks of meat bit out of my feet and shins. I also won’t have to cut my toe nails for a while. The piranhas, by the way, were delicious.