Well, I have no idea what happened yesterday.
A celebration? A big one…
There was a lot of buzz and chatter but none of it made sense. But it’s my job to make sense of the senseless, or something like that.
I ran into the new chief, detective, whatever the heck he wants to call himself at the diner. I can’t say I’m all that impressed by him, not to mention he smells like my Uncle Willy the morning after a bender. I don’t blame him, though. If I was handed a pickled ear on my first day of work I might be inclined to think the job description was lacking in a few details.
Oh well, Chief Jorgenson, sink or swim. Logansville’s a deep end, buddy.
Now, for what I’ve found. Other than a serial killer on the loose? Other than body parts being sent to the police? How can I possibly top that?
Trust me, I can and will. I just need some time.
Until then, I have an obligation to keep people apprised of all things strange and unusual. And I got a little something for ya, or a big something.
Mrs. Gigham reported the theft of her garbage can again. Now this family has a history of doing well in the Bigfoot realm, so I took to some investigating (who knew how disgusting some people are when it comes to trash preparation, seriously some of you are just gross) in her yard.
She claimed she saw a creature over seven feet tall. Usually, when she calls this in, I get there when the men in suits “animal control, my ass” are leaving. Yesterday, I was first. Which would feel like a victory if I didn’t suspect they were looking into something more serious. Anyways, I found some footprints, a few hairs of questionable origin (mental note, buy latex gloves and carry at all times), and a strange aroma in the air. Do Bigfoots (Bigfeet? What is the plural of that?) mark their territory? Something to look into, and it’s going to be a dirty job.
So while I do that, remember to keep safe and if anyone has seen or HEARD anything out of the ordinary, you know who to tell.
Me, if you didn’t know.