Bigfoot, the Horrible is a collection of the best Red Burtley mysteries, adventures and other shorts. There are seven short stories in all. Bigfoot, the Horrible is about Red Burtley dispelling rumors about Bigfoot in the Adirondack mountains. Selected Excerpts: Office Politics and the Missing Attaché Case: "Aren't you going to wash your hands?" Hulce asked me as we both left the bathroom at the same time. "No, should I?" I asked, confused by his query. "Yes, if you use the toilet, you should always wash your hands." "But I didn't take a shit," I said. "So what? You should wash your hands." "But I didn't touch my nether regions. I was at the urinal." "That is your nether regions. That's-" "I meant to say my undercarriage. I didn't touch my undercarriage, so I don't need to wash my hands." "Same thing." "Okay, sphincter. How's that? Can I say sphincter?" "Yes." "Well, I didn't touch my sphincter, so no hand washing necessary." "Yes, it is." Bigfoot, the Horrible: "He had a horrible smell," the man said, describing his Bigfoot encounter. "So, he farted in your face?" I asked sympathetically, recalling the days of when my hairy high-school gym teacher would squat over our faces while we were doing sit-ups and rip out a good one. Not fun. "No, he just smelled," the distraught man said a bit angrily as if I asked the most ridiculous question in the world. I didn't. "I see," I said, making a note of that. Still determined that his facts were wrong, I pressed and asked, "So, when you crept up behind him, he just let out a big one?" "No, I wasn't near him, and I didn't creep upon him." He looked at me and then muttered, "I was upwind, anyway." "I see." "He didn't pass gas as you have been suggesting, but he did emit a horrible smell." "You mean like when my grandmother has enchiladas?" Hollywood's Greatest Action Hero Loses His Money: "Okay, that's sounds better," I said. "What happened when you got to Dirk Dannigan's room?" "His bodyguard answered the door." "Did he beat you up?" "No," Resner said angrily as if I had asked the most ridiculous question in the world. Why was this kid so annoyed? That was a perfectly legitimate question. That's what bodyguards do. They beat people up. What's the point of being a bodyguard if they can't beat up anyone? If they can't beat people up, all they're left with is stealing pacifiers and farting on children. What a useless job that would be. "Did he pull your hair?" I asked. "No." "Fart in your face?" "No" "Steal your shoes and give you a wedgie?" "No. He didn't do anything." The Old Man Barfs All Over the Old Lady at Harry's Ye Olde Tavern: "Let me see your hands," I said. "Fine with me, but whatever you're looking for you're not going to see it on my hands." "Why not?" This piqued my curiosity. Why wouldn't I see it on his hands? "Because you're looking for microbes, right? They're pretty hard to see." "I don't know. I'm looking for anything that would contaminate the food such as poop, feces, sludge, pubic hair, armpit hair, nose hair, toe nails, eye crust, dead skin, dingleberries, ear jelly, belly lint, Mexican nose gold, Tennessee tooth shelac, butt-cheek bon-bons, redneck mouth nectar, psoriasis chips, geriatric flakes, head lice, runny nose juice, Ron Jeremy cream, clitty litter, toe cheese, diaper pebbles, boogers, scabs, plaque, ass-crack jam-"