Interviewer Or Interviewee?

 

You know Millicent Price, that reporter, gave me a phone, right? Well, right now I am concentrating on learning to make YouTube videos. This is gonna be great!  Ralph’s POV for all the world to see!

In the meantime, there is X.

So here goes.

Greetings Oh Relatively Hairless Ones!

Having hung around some of your habitations, and listened through walls, and having gotten to know a few Neanderthals also, I feel like you guys might be rubbing off on me. (Oh yeah, there are still Neanderthals!)

Not only do I have a need to call, as in echoing through the forest, I have a need to communicate with you mixed up hominids.

So, I figured out how to get ahold of that Chris guy who does the scary campfire stories.  I said how about we get together and clear the air a little?  He said “sure, where and when” and all like that there.

I said, “Let’s meet in Darrington, WA.  Let’s say in three days at sunup just east of town on the riverbank.  They call it the Sauk River; in case you get lost. I’ll make sure you see me because I will see you first! I will probably smell your aftershave before I see you even.”

So, I kissed Ramona and Twigg goodbye the day before and started my hike over to Darrington.  I don’t worry too much about being seen there.  Nothing surprises that hive of rednecks, drunks, and tree whackers. I mean, have you ever been to Darrington? Prepossessing is not the word that comes to mind.

Oh, he showed up all right.  He had the whole deal. Camera, beer, tent, cute little seat. He did not bring a seat for me!

“Chris,” I said, “I gotta give you about 6 points for having the nerve to show up alone. Good man!”

“Oh, you know how it is,” said Chris. “This is probably a once in a lifetime opportunity. How many times am I gonna get an email from a Sasquatch?” He tittered a bit, nervously.

He offered me a beer.  Ringtail Possum IPA, made in Redmond by unemployed coders. I accepted of course. I like fizzy stuff alright.

“Ralph is what they call you?" asked Chris.

“Yeah, you smoothies call me that. It’s kind of a joke. You probably couldn’t say my forest name.  Too many gutturals and rolled r’s.”

“OK, Ralph, what’s on your mind?"

“I want you to put this on your channel. It’s a message to you guys, since you mostly run the show,” I said.

“We’re afraid. We thought hiding out in the trees was good enough and our lives would go on as before with no interaction with you people. But no."

“It’s me they come to see when something goes wrong out there in the mountains and trees.  There isn’t usually anything I can do about it. Hence, this interview,” says me.

“Message to humanity!”

“Simmer down out there, or we’re coming out of the woods and laying down some homestyle law,” I bellowed, getting kind of excited. I kinda leapt to my feet and trod the ground a bit. (Do I hear an Amen?)

“This isn’t even a real interview,” inserted Chris. “No one is asking questions and no one is answering them either!”

“Aw, you just wanted some footage for your own channel…” said Chris, turning off his GoPro.

“No man, I am dead serious.  If we have to, every darn 8ft tall cryptid hominid in the world is about to march out of the woods and hills and rocks and take over! You have no idea how many of us there are!"

“You tell em, Chris! This is my promise.”

Then, just to show him what I’m made of I marched out into the middle of the river and headed north right out of there up to my chin in glacial melt run off!