Last night I had a severe bout of insomnia, which is always bad the next day at work but which can often be a good thing, creatively speaking. I have learned to just let my mind do its thing- it won't shut up until it's ready, and thre will be no peace for either of us until it is. So I wrote a poem (maybe I'll poost it, maybe not) and finally came up with a direction for a story I started while I was writing the Plasma Dragon story- I wrote the first paragraph and then left it until last night. So here is Part 1. Enjoy:

Truth be told, Frank Omah wasn't that good of a private eye. He had solved one major case, and made his rep off that. But even that was kind of cheating, in a way. He had proved definitively, once and for all, that Bigfoots do exist. He had done this by walking out of the woods one day and revealing himself to the world. Frank Omah was a sasquatch. Frank was sitting in his office reading a newspaper that his last client had given him in lieu of payment. His elbows were on the table, and he was holding his hands to his forehead, looking very much like he had a migraine. And indeed, his head was starting to throb and he was getting more and more alarmed about the lead story. He reread the article for the tenth time that morning:

"Bigfoot Fathered my Child! 54-year old Frances Forsyth of Tennessee, Alabama gave birth on Tuesday to what scientists are calling a genetic marvel- a half-human half-bigfoot baby that she has named FooFoo. She claims she had been camping in Yellowstone National Park when an 8-foot tall bigfoot kidnapped her from her tent, took her for dinner and eventually impregnated her. 'I know the Bahble says it ain't right to make love to no bigfoots, but he was the gentlest lover I ever had, and I love him and I want to marry him,' said the unmarried mother of six other children from her trailer in Alabama. 'I know he will love little FooFoo and will want to spend the rest of his life with us and our family.' Bigfoot was unavailable for comment. -Jed Jedderson, Weekly World News Editor-at-Large"

Frank couldn't believe it- who was this woman? He had never met anyone named Frances Forsyth, had not been to Yellowstone anytime in the last nine months and would NEVER have relations with a human- gross! Was Tennessee in Alabama, now? FooFoo? What kind of name is that? Nothing about this article made any sense. That's all he needed right now- a frivolous paternity suit. He was about to call his lawyer when his secretary buzzed. "Client here for you, Frank." "Send her in." "It's a he, and he's on his way." His door opened and a killer whale wearing a yellow fishing slicker and a sou'wester rain hat walked in. "You gotta help me," said the whale, "I've been framed."