He was the bright, crystal waters of the

He was the bright, crystal waters of the Mediterranean. She was the deep, muddy waters of the North Sea. Mixed together, they were the Bay of Biscay - prone to shipwrecks.

But the Bay of Biscay also held another secret. Pirate ghosts haunted its shores. Every night when the sun went down, hundreds of sea fairing ghouls emerged from the water and

went hunting for Bigfoot. There were a few sightings, but nothing conclusive. "Maybe we should just play some volleyball instead," suggested one. "That's what all the scallywags

do, and we're not scallywags" complained another. The group conceded and marched along the river bank in their boy scout uniforms, before they were ushered to a halt. "Bigfoot?"

The boy scout leader held his troop back and spread his arms out to protect them. "Bear attack pose, NOW!" The boys raised their arms and started yelling. Bigfoot looked

at the greyish adult creature teaching a group of juveniles who still had blue plummage how to worship their creator. Bigfoot felt awkward. His prime directive was not to interfere

but at some point interference was the lesser of two evils. Decision made, Bigfoot sent out a stomp to his cousins Yeti, Sasquatch, and The Abominable Snowman. They'd show these

scrawny little bastards who ruled the forests of the world. The subterranean vibrations were sent,while Bigfoot waited on their response. "Help on the way" Sasquatch replied. Yeti

THOOM! The campfire went out. THOOM! The tents collapsed. THOOM! The alarm went through the camp. BIG FEET! BIG FEEEET!