Monday, December 5, 2011


In a secluded town in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, there’s this monster that walks upright on two feet, like a man, and sometimes even looks kind of like a man (only dirtier, from all the peat moss it gathers for local nurseries).  This elusive creature is known as The Peat Moss Monster Man of Northern Michigan.  

It lives in a ramshackle, cabin-like nest in the woods (the townsfolk simply call this “The Lair”), and sometimes it emerges not so mossily and seems to be drinking a Budweiser.  A clever mimic, it even communicates, reciting lines it has no-doubt overheard at the nursery, or when venturing into town for a haircut: phrases like "I'm not a monster, dammit," and "Just a trim, please, Bob."  But its accentuations are so garbled and strange that clearly they can be nothing but the call of a moss monster: The Peat Moss Monster Man of Northern Michigan.

When it’s all cleaned up, it often finds its way to church on Sundays.  People whisper, “Hey, it’s The Peat Moss Monster Man of Northern Michigan,” or “Get this: The Peat Moss Monster Man of Northern Michigan thinks that just because it’s all cleaned up it can find its way to church,” but it ignores them and tends to its mate and two female offspring, the shy and atypically pretty Peat Moss Monster Women of Northern Michigan.  They spend most of their time inside The Lair, however, when they're not working at the local Hooters; and, even though the townsfolk are hopelessly attracted to their ample bosoms and wavy blond hair (and how they're always curiously devoid of moss), the way they “speak” plainly solidifies their moss-monster standing.  This label doesn’t bother them, though, as far as I can tell, but it has been known to infuriate their Peat Moss Monster Airedale Terrier of Northern Michigan.

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