BACKGROUND TO YETISMACK

Essentially, I am going to track down as many cryptids as possible, and get a photo or recording of me punching, kicking, or otherwise inflicting bodily abuse on the creature. That’s pretty much the deal, but here’s some more information on the background to the hunt…

I’m no great athlete and I’m not hugely intelligent, but I have grit and determination and my own car. That said, I didn’t fancy diving right in and trying to deck Dracula; that would just get me killed, or worse – un-dead! Also, he's not really a cryptid...

So I searched the internet for a minor cryptid to track down, a wee one just to get me going; like when your dad puts stabilisers on your bike when learning to ride (mine didn't; didn't trust him. I learnt the hard 'dislocated shoulder and ten stitches' way). There were so many cryptids! Other than your obvious ones; your yetis and sea monsters, there are loads of little ones. Killer badgers in Iraq, giant Congolese spiders, or even British big cats. Should I try and do all the British ones first, or start further afield, and work my way back home?

Christ! Look at this mad bastard; he's not even a 'killer' badger.
I must be mental.

Tough choice but, as I’m pretty skint most of the time, it seemed a good idea to keep the globe-trotting to a minimum. Having said that, I’ve got a credit card for a reason, and tracking down and kicking things that don’t exist is as good a reason as any for maxing the bugger out.

Being on a budget also meant that I felt I should consider the likelihood of actually finding any chosen cryptid against actual expenditure. Well, the yeti and Sasquatch has been seen a lot, but no one seems to have caught one, let alone chibbed it, so I worried that I wasn’t particularly likely to come across one on a cycle path in Oregon. Killer badgers have been reported in Iraq, near Basra city. But I heard that Iraq’s still not very 'touristy'. And NATO have denied they exist; so that's definitive proof right there.

If I got killed before tracking down the cryptids, how would I enjoy having faced my fear after hitting them? But I was a fresh mind on the cryptozoology scene, and didn’t let it bother me. Many have come before me with little to show for their endeavours, so I had to use my brain. I’m used to thinking outside the box. I once had a broken washing machine, so I just washed my clothes in the shower with me. That’s the kind of thinking I bring to cryptid hunting.

Another concern was knowing that what I was battering was a genuine cryptid. I didn’t want to punch a big white monkey instead of a yeti by mistake (unless the big white monkey is a cryptid, in which case it's fair game). I assume cryptids aren’t protected under law; it’s an assumption I should perhaps investigate, but I’m no lawyer – I’m a crypto-hunter! So I had to face my fear and properly investigate these cryptid bastards. That meant reading: boo! But also reading mad stuff online: hooray!

Professional cryptid research meant tons of time in the library and on the internet, strictly during daylight hours and with plenty of other folk around. The last thing I wanted was to be looking up Nessie in the dark. Rage Against The Machine once said ‘know your enemy’, and soon I did. They also said 'bring that shit in', which I wouldn't advise, so let's not take it too far.

Never seen this librarian happier than when
she found this ancient tome.

The library had three books on cryptids, which I pored over for weeks. Eventually some old dick complained I was always reading them, and he got two for a week, but the pop-up one was useful. I pretended that the cryptid was coming at me, and had to ready myself for the attack as I turned the page.

It was terrifying, and too much for the librarians, so I adjourned to the toilets, but got scared when an old man accidentally turned the lights off trying to make the hand dryer work. I bet it was that old dick trying to scare me. I took risks like those in the early days of research. Alone in those toilets, anything could have gotten me.

The late nights of research made my mind wander. What if there were cryptids who knew I was searching for them, and actively tried to avoid sightings or beatings? I’d probably have to deal with some level of sneakiness from these bastards.

Also, what about cute ones? Gremlins for example! We’ve all seen the films. Believe me, I have no desire to gub Mogwai; he’s very furry and does a grand Rambo impression, but has to be stopped. Tough decisions lay ahead. Could I punch a furry wee animal: cryptid or not?

Probably… Yeah, I could. No bother at all. It had to be done: a public service.

Morality would have to take a back seat to proactive violent intervention; like many of our recent foreign policy decisions. So this also serves as a warning to the reader. You may not agree with my methods, but you have to accept my dedication to cryptid hunting.

Continue to the first case of Operation Yetismack here...

I may have to punch something that looks this fuzzy-wuzzy.