And That's Why We Drink - Special Episode: 4th Annual Cryptids Unscripted Poetry Slam

Episode Date: October 31, 2024

Turn on the goosecam meter and pour one out for Snippy, because MC Hircine Shifter and Lisa Frank’s Muppet are here to read a collection of cryptid poems for our 4th Annual Cryptids Unscripted Poetry Slam! Bigfoot is in his feelings, Sinkole Sam’s sheen is out of this world, and lonely Mothman isn’t the only one whose heart is soft tonight. So don’t forget to tip your Startenders and keep an eye out for Lemon’s not so Hello Fresh face… and that’s why we drink! Thank you to all who submitted for our throwback to the classic And That’s Why We Draws with your Poorly Drawn Cryptids submissions - we’ve featured a few of our favorites in this episode. This holiday season, give the gift of answers and wrap up the mystery of your dog’s DNA. Get the Dog DNA Test that’s got everyone barking, head to EmbarkVet.com and use code DRINK to save $65 on Embark’s Breed + Health Test and get free shipping. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Some mysteries can be solved by looking at the facts, but in some cases, answers lie in the unknown. I'm Ashley Flowers, and each week on my podcast So Supernatural, we explore some of the world's most bizarre occurrences and unravel their possible explanations no matter how strange. Because sometimes, to get to the truth, you have to look beyond what we know to be reality and consider what else there could be, even if it forces you to reconsider everything you think you know. Listen to So Supernatural now,

wherever you get your podcasts. Hello and welcome to the annual Cryptids Unscripted Slam Poetry Extravaganza. I'm tonight's host. You can call me the her scene shifter, but tonight it's all about you and your art. Wow. I've got with me my associate. I'm trying to be. The Lorax. I was trying to look like a cryptid.

And I was like. You do, you look like the Lorax. I was like, I guess if Lisa Frank's muppet actually came to life, this is what it would look like. So in a pinch, this is what it would look like. So in a pinch, this was all I had. You I wanted to decorate my background, but then I realized this is a flat wall with no shelves. So I have some pieces with me to let you know what my vibe is from the side of the camera,

if you will indulge me. I would please. This is the first. This is our first up to the mic, Am Schultz. Okay, perfect. would please this is the first this is our first up to the mic am Schultz okay perfect first we have a bottle of potions and give her a swirl and she she's a little glittery that's right we're all proceeds from the bar tonight go to the depression hotline for what are those things called again? Squonks who cry all the time. So please drink up tip your bartenders, tip your star tenders. My my start yes the star tenders. My the next

one up we have a little jar of eyeballs which has scared the neighborhood children. We do have stories about this one. I can't wait. And then we have my favorite candle right now which is a brain in a jar I can't wait. And then we have my favorite candle right now, which is a brain in a jar. Oh my, that's a candle? Sure is. Wow, you really like aesthetically made this, you know. Well, over here, the background is immaculate.

Well, imagine if we combined, like we put the jar of eyeballs on this dingy dive bar that I've put as my background. I can imagine it sliding across the bar, be like, give me a double, and it goes, you know. on this dingy dive bar that I've put as my background. I put all the- I can imagine it sliding across the bar, be like, give me a double. And it goes, you know? And then they put the eyeballs

on a little cocktail stick, cocktail sword, and put them in the drink. She'd be beautiful. Okay, my final piece is, I have a haunted radio that I will be listening to Cryptozone's scripted on later tonight. Now that, yeah, that's actually where the sound's gonna come out, the music.

That's true. You know, the jazz music. I'm boomboxing it. And then I've got my favorite little lights where when I turn her on, I'm searching for the best cryptids unscripted there is. Through the forest, apparently. Okay. That's what I've got going on over here.

Okay. Well, thanks, prop master M, who came to the Poetry Slam to do a little show and tell. You are welcome. We are here this evening to read in our finest autumnal hour some of the stories and poetry and beautiful creations y'all have sent in. Eva, our resident, I don't know what kind of cryptid Eva would be. Eva Beva, I call her, maybe that's it. She has hand selected, curated, if you will, a list of stories for us to read. And we have lucky number 13 stories. So I think we better get this bad boy started. And

folks, I hope you enjoy. If you are on YouTube, you can see this in action. If not, I hope you enjoy if you are on YouTube you can see see this in action if not we hope you enjoy the audio version either way there will be some jazzy underlying music and oh and I wanted to point out we have merch actually for this which I'm very excited about I'm wearing our Mothman so I'm wearing okay I love this shirt so the in case you're on you're not on YouTube Christine looks like Doug Funnie's sister. Um. Oh right, I forgot nobody could see my outfit.

A true actual beatnik with like a French hat or something onto the side. I got a beret, I got some round glasses. It was just, I felt like my moment. And so anyway, here is my shirt. It's a picture of Cryptids Unscripted and it's these like old timey patrons listening to Mothman at an open mic.

It's so cool. And the design team sent it to us and I went, this is perfect, don't touch it. So we're selling long sleeves and we're selling, what else are we selling? We're selling little key chains that like motel key chains, you know? Oh yeah.

Oh, and just wanted to confirm their comfort colors and that's our favorite. So that's how you know it's gonna fit great and be cozy. Anyway, that being said, if you wanna see our merch, you can go to at wwwdmerch.com. And in the meantime, here is the first poetry submission. This comes to us from Amanda. Hi, Amanda.

It's called misunderstood monsters. That's me approving or welcoming her to the stage. We're all, yeah, welcome to the stage. Godzilla was just trying to make some friends. King Kong simply wanted someone to talk to. Cthulhu only wanted people to come over for dinner. Bigfoot has social anxiety. Nessie is camera shy.

Frankenstein only wanted a family. Dracula was just a little bit parched. The mummy was simply cold. The zombie just wanted to catch up. Mothman was lonely because he's nocturnal. The Yeti prefers the cold. All of these monsters simply wanted a friend, but everyone screamed and ran when they came round. They couldn't help how they looked or what habitat they lived in, but people judged them anyway. So they got together for a monster tea party and they invited

everyone but they were too scared to attend. The end. Wow. Beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing Misunderstood Monsters by Amanda. Give her a round of applause. In a way we're all misunderstood monsters. That's beautiful, Em. Yeah that's what I that's what I always say and I've always had that song. That's true I always say, and I've always had that, so. That's true. All right, well, there seems to be a chill in here, so let me really get my fur showing for this next one. I was about to say what you look like, and then I realized you've already said you look like a Lisa Frank Muppet,

so there's no more to say. It's a very clear image. I got this jacket at a drag store, literally meant for drag queens, I think, in Canada. You know, I got this jacket at a drag store, like literally meant for drag queens, I think, in Canada. You know when you go to Kings Island and you pay like $65 to throw darts at a balloon and then they're like, here's a cool boa scarf

you can take home, that's what it looks like. I remember buying it, it was tray expensive. And I remember thinking, I have to now keep it because of the price and I will find a use for it. And then remember thinking, I have to now keep it because of the price and I will find a use for it. And then- You actually walked into the bar, the hotel bar or rooftop bar,

where Eve and I were sat having martinis or something and you just waltzed on in in that coat. Man, heads were turning. Show stopper. You're welcome. She is every color under the sun, it seems, and they're all fluorescent. So my eyes are red. She's every neon color under the Sun it seems and they're all fluorescent. So my eyes

Which she's every neon neon color under this. She's the Lisa Frank Palette color palette she if true. I mean this it couldn't be more Lisa Frank if she tried Lisa would want this for sure She'd be like Lisa probably owns it should be on my merch site This is from Caroline and this is a submission titled, Big Feet Zero Drama. Which just the way that that's titled tells me it's drama. Okay, here we go. Tells me it's a lie. As I'm wearing this, I'm like zero drama.

Okay. No such thing. Okay, here we go. I'm Bigfoot. Yeah, you know the name. Bigfoot, big mystery. Same old game. You're out there hunting. GPS on. But I'm just chilling. Lawn chair. Gone. Snap a pic? Yeah, good luck with that. Blurry as heck. Just my head in a hat.

I'm not hiding. Just taking a break. It's called self care for goodness sake. Where's Bigfoot? You shout from the trail. I'm over here ordering door dash and kale. Y'all think I'm some ancient beast, but honestly I just want some peace. I roam the woods, it's my quiet zone. Can't deal with humans glued to their phone. You've been searching for decades, hot on my tail. But surprise, I'm streaming Netflix in the veil. So keep your footprints, your plaster molds. I'm here sipping coffee, feet getting cold. Powerful, powerful stuff. You really feel the burn in that one.

Mm-hmm. He just he just wants to be left alone. Why don't you understand society? We all want to be alone. It's you know, we try to force we try to drag him out of his world into ours. And it's just he's ordering DoorDash and kale. So I think he's okay. I think he's having a good time trying to keep to himself. And everyone calls him a monster so he tries to leave but then you want the monster back? I mean tell me what you mean. Trying to find him? Speak on that. Speak on that. So you want the monster present. Interesting. Speak on that only if you have it written in verse and rhyme. Okay, this is our next submission. This is from Jess. She, they. The title is,

The Forest Knows My Name. I roam where the trees whisper low, soft secrets that only the pines can know. My foot falls heavy, yet lighter still, than the weight of a world that bends to my will. I once believed their eyes would see every rustle, every trembling tree. But it's the earth that feels me best, rooted deep where my soul finds rest. I've danced in shadows free of fear, cloaked in the green where I disappear. The river hums a tune for me, a melody of quiet, wild and free. No path to follow, no trail to tame, just the wild wind whispering my name. Who I am is more than

they think, a mystery that slips past the brink. The moonlight beams, the stars align, the owl's eyes with wisdom shine. Although they search from dusk to dawn, it's finding myself that keeps me strong. A poem by Bigfoot. Wow, Bigfoot is really going through it. Bigfoot really had a big year for his feelings. I think the therapy is finally coming through. I agree. I was about to say he's really finally opening up and like doing some shadow work, you know? Yeah, he's certainly in his exploration era, I think. Yeah, just like checking out the dark side of things, you know? Well well done, Bigfoot. You know, I hope you get better. Next, we have a submission from Luna,

and this is an inspiration from the cryptid of their home state of Kansas, of a giant worm named Sinkhole Sam. In the heart of Kansas, the plains wide and still lurks a creature unknown stirring up a chill. Born of the earth from a sinkhole deep, where shadows and mysteries forever sleep. They call him Sinkhole Sam, long and lean, with eyes like coals and a serpent sheen. He slithers through waters, murky and black, a phantom of dusk on a hidden track. Some say he's ancient, a

relic untold, a beast from a time when the world was bold. Others believe he's a myth come alive, a creature of legend too strange to survive. Fishermen whisper of ripples they've seen and waters that shimmer with an eerie sheen. There's that sheen again. They toss out their lines but always too late for Sam's never caught just a flicker of fate. But in the moonlight on a still summer's night if you listen closely with ears tuned just right you might hear a rustle a soft creeping flow as sinkhole Sam stirs from the depths below. Aware of the waters where the shadows play, for sinkhole Sam waits for his next prey.

A legend, a cryptid, a tail spun in fear, but is he real or did he just disappear? Ladies and gentlemen, special announcement, I've gotten my first goose cam of the night. We're going to turn on the goose cam meter and we've got that playing in the background. Yep. There it is honking away. It's like when you go to Planet Fitness and they've got that big alarm on the wall. Have you seen it? That makes me want to throw up, yes.

Or like when they do at Orange Theory, when they do splat points and you can like watch your splat and you're like, I want to die actually. My favorite thing about the Planet Fitness one, it's like, it's this big purple light and they only turn it on when someone's being a douchebag. I love that. Oh, is that what it is? Yeah.

Wait, what does it mean? It's called the hunk alert or something, but it's when you're trying to be like too much. Like when you're like... Oh, so it's like kind of a shame bell. Yeah, it's a shame bell. Oh, that's way better than my thing. Okay, because mine's a shame bell,

but it's just cause I'm not good at orange theory. I do think all bars though, speaking of the bar that we're sitting in together right now with all of our favorite cryptids, there should be a shame bell if there's gonna be straight men there. I'll tell you that. Yeah, well, which is why there are none here tonight. So

Yeah, we had to disengage it for the evening There's only cryptids here tonight. There's not even a human in sight. No, just the goose cam alarm cam alert, yep Wow, that was well done. Thank you sinkhole Sam, you know first first first time caller for Synchol Sam, I think. I think so, yes. Yeah. All right, let's see. This was sent in by Whitney, who says,

hello, M. Even the Herseyn Shifter, who is, of course, here as your host. Yeah, the MC. Yeah. The MC, thank you very much. Okay, so this is a poem without a title. Okay, great. In the dark I lurk, hoping my next attempt will work.

The silence is so loud as I cautiously watch the crowd. Right now is my chance. Maybe if I put them in a trance, quickly I land, hoping this is the right plan. Then the silence is gone. What have I done wrong? The people, they scream. What a chaotic scene.

The cameras are flashing and now I am dashing. I try to stay strong as I fly along. I can't help but cry. I ask myself, why? I just wanted a friend. I wasn't trying to offend. Back to my bunker I go. Didn't even get to say hello.

I'm just a lonely moth with a heart that's very soft. The end. And at the end we are all just moths who hearts are very soft. That's right. We're all just soft moths and misunderstood monsters. I mean, now that's the truth. That is the shirt for next year.

According to Bigfoot, sometimes the shirt for next year. According to Bigfoot, sometimes the understood monster is inside. It's from within. Wow. That's called your shadow self. It's called generational trauma, probably. Yeah, sometimes.

OK, well, our next one, I'm very excited. This is another poem. This is from Iris and This poem gets a special shout out to Snippy the horse The horse in the field who showed signs of alien abduction that I covered quite some time ago. This is a poem for Snippy the horse in memoriam? Maybe in memoriam. Yes, I think so. Okay.

Snippy the horse. Also, everyone pour one out for Snippy, but don't pour it on our floors because- We just had them mopped for tonight. Yeah, I was going to say, we don't have time to mop again. And the old creaky wood, it has cracks in it that we don't- Oh, we wouldn't want to soak. No, you're right. We don't want to sawdust again.

That's an annual thing. Why don't we just all take a jello shot in honor of- Let's just hold empty glasses that are plastic so they don't shatter and we just maybe just pretend we couldn't come together. How about instead of plastic, they're compostable just so we don't get on the wrong side of the environment, all that good stuff.

Yeah, actually the drinks you can have for us to be the horse are in a trough actually outside. So just go do that. of the environment, all that good stuff. Yeah, actually the drinks you can have for Stippy the Horse are in a trough actually outside. So just go do that. That seemed to be the most economical and eco-friendly solution. And helpful to our staff later when everyone leaves. That's right, they can just kind of dump it out.

Stippy the Horse, in the placid midnight of rural farmland and unkept woodland, a barn dots the landscape, breaking natural cloak of night with manufactured yellow light. Light that floods half-hazardly, half-azardly, onto the dirt path by the door to silhouette a horse. Snippy's tail flicks absently at gnaz now asleep. Snippy hears crickets, she knows these. Snippy sees stars, she knows these too.

In the egg yolk yellow barn light, she is safe. In the morning, Snippy will be fed and brushed and cared for, She knows this. This is how it's always been. Snippy used to look beyond the fence when she was young. When she knew nothing, everything was equal parts promising and threatening. She would leap to clear the fence and miss. She cuts her belly on the edge.

But in the morning, she was tended, the fence mended, and she had learned a lesson. Threats are outside, promises are inside. Snippy watches birds fly far above the sanctuary. She watches stars burn platinum and silver holes into the sky each night. Tonight Snippy sees a shooting star. It glides closer. Snippy makes a wish. A flash of new light, then complete darkness. Goose cam number two! Put it on the board baby! Wow, that made me sad. Caught on the belly. Oh no. Baby, baby.

She just wants to be safe and warm. And she saw a shooting star and made a wish, but then maybe it was the UFO that takes her. Oh no. Well, thank you, Iris, for that. That was certainly emotional. And I'll have to bill you for that one. Thank you. Yeah, you'll hear from us.

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And yeah, I just feel like it was the coolest thing because Maggie has had Jarena for years and was like, I never even occurred to me to like figure out what kind of breed combination she was. And so she had a little surprise. It was kind of fun. This holiday season, give the gift of answers and wrap up the mystery of your dog's DNA. Get the dog DNA test that's got everyone barking. Head to EmbarkVet.com and use code DRINK to save $65 on Embark's breed and health test and get free shipping. Again, visit EmbarkVet.com and use

promo code DRINK to save $65 on Embark's breed and health test today. Now up next, we have something a little more creative here or not more creative, but perhaps more difficult, unless the others were written in this style and I just wouldn't know. But this one is written in iambic pentameter. Oh my god, we have Shakespeare in the house. Honestly, probably multiple people have written in that and we just don't know how to pronounce, like we don't know how to emphasize it. If it's not a haiku, I can't tell what's going on.

If it's not a limerick, I don't know exactly how to make the syllables sound. So I apologize, but this one is in iambic pentameter and it says, listen, listen all to my most fears. Okay. Bum bum, bum bum, bum bum, bum bum. So glad this is yours. Okay. Oh, and this is from Megan. It's called the Tally Po.

Come listen all to my most, wait. Oh, here we go. Come listen all to my most fearsome tale. I can't do that. I don't understand. Come listen all to my most fearsome. Okay, you got it. Come listen all to my most fearsome tale. In, you got it. Listen all to my most fearsome tale.

In old Appalachia where we lay our scene. Be careful as you wander along the trail, lest ere you cross this cruel and vengeful fiend. That's me, the tally-poe I'm called and you would be quite wise to heed this warning so. You do not end up like old hermit Jack, who tried to steal from me my tally-poe. Jack lived on the mountain all alone, except for his dogs, up where the winter snow fell thick, and all them were but skin and bone,

twas bitter cold and food supplies were low. Jack and his dogs went hunting in the wood, but all the creatures hid and hurt his pride. His empty stomach made his sleep no good. Still he drummed as I sneaked my way inside. Then Jack he woke and boy was he surprised. He'd never seen a creature quite like me. My giant paws and great long claws and eyes that glowed like fire and lots of pointy teeth.

And of course my tally-po I saw, his eyes admire my long and bushy tail, I chittered prideful till I saw him grab an axe meanwhile the dogs began to wail. I hissed and rushed o'er to the chimney stack while Jack had quickly taken up the chase. I started up but heard a thudding WHack! He'd chopped my tally-po off at the base. Oh foul and cruel, oh tricksy, greedy man, I ran into the woods to nurse my wound. Meanwhile he threw my tail into a pan and ate it. I'll find you, tally-po, I crooned. As Jack slept sound his belly nice and full, there came a scratching at the cabin door. The door began to shake,

was pushed, and was pulled. An eerie voice spoke, chilling Jack to his core. "'Tay-lee-po, tay-lee-po, I know you got my tay-lee-po!' He flung the door open, but nothing was there. Though cut slash deep across the door doors hardwood, the stubborn man set up for the night in his chair. He vowed to put an end to this for good. The wind lulled him to sleep. I took my chance and shook the house reverberating force. He raced to the bed. He raced to bed without a backwards glance and hid under the sheet. I crept indoors. Tally-po, tally-po, I'm coming for my tally-po. When once again the house stood still and hushed, Jack dared to peek out from his blanket shield.

He thought I'd left, but then his hopes were crushed, when from the shadows my form was revealed. Creeping up the wall and across the rafters, then dropping to the bedfoot thump out of sight. Slowly furry, ears rose up and after, two glowing ember eyes pierced through the night. Finally the teeth displayed in wicked grin. Give me back my tally-poe, I hissed. Be gone, Jack wept, now filling with chagrin.

It's eight, I'm sorry, but now it don't exist. I cocked my head off to the side and caught a flash of hope. He thought he might live still. If he won't give it back to me, I thought, I'll just take it back myself, I will. I pounced and Jack, he screamed and started crying. His last sight was my fiery eyes aglow, as with my claws I tore him chin to groin and pulled out from his stomach my tally-po. So now if Ery you heard my voice or seen flashing eyes or long black tail you know you shouldn't ever try to come between me and my beloved tally-po.

Oh hang on hang on hang on hang on Look in the back. Oh, my gosh. That deserves a little clap. That deserves a little clap. Megan, I'm so sorry that I didn't know how to do that. And also, I know it actually was lovely. It kept it helps me in the beginning figure out like what my how to the five beat rhythm to it and all that. Yeah, it was hard because some words it's like you want to say

the syllable a different way. But I will say this is apparently about the taili-po. And I think I was saying tally-po. It's an Appalachian legend. And so I want to welcome the taili-po or tally-po to our as a first time caller to our poetry slam this evening. Welcome, TP. That was lovely. That was lovely. Um, that was also so that felt like you, that someone wrote a chapter of a book.

Like that was that had to take so much effort to like to come up with. Yes. I actually don't know if I told you this, but I recently, you know how I like those story competitions where I like submit like a 500 word story and like, so they had a rhyming one that I've been waiting for over a year to join. And I just submitted my entry to the rhyming one. It is so hard. Oh.

Cause like, you also have to tell a story, right? And then you're like, okay, I want my story to make sense. But then you have to rhyme it and make sure when you say it aloud, it like actually tracks, you know, it's really hard. That's why a lot of people are obsessed with that, how about your mother episode? Cause the entire thing was in rhyme. Oh yes, I was doubly impressed.

Yes, I love a good rhyme. No, that was incredible. I'm very excited for you. I feel like if you waited a year to do it, you already had it written a year in advance probably. Well, the problem is that they give you the prompt in like a week. So it problem is that they give you the prompt in like a week. So it's like they give you a genre

and my genre was action. You have to hope that you like know a rapper who can just like help you immediately. Who can help me spit some rhymes, you know? Spit some beats, yeah. Yeah. You can ask the Tally Po when the time comes, so. I will and honestly, maybe I'll read that someday on the show, even though it's more of a true

crime tale. You could slip it into the Cryptids Unscripted. Maybe no one will notice. Until everyone's like, why is there a random writing prompt in this Cryptids Unscripted? Why does it say how many words it is at the end and then have Christine's email on it? Although it does feel like if we're really world building here and the Cryptids Unscripted bar does exist, there would be a cryptid who went up

with their written home project to be like, I'm working on this thing. And it might be the Herseyne Shifter cause she's probably drunk and probably has, she's forgotten the boundaries of this whole event. She never heard the word boundary in her life, no. She's never understood what that meant at all. Okay, well, our next submission is from Christy,

and this is a mystery topic, which I think along the way we're supposed to discover what's happening here. Oh, okay. All right, let's see. This is, is it a poem? I can't tell if it's a poem or try to say an iambic pentameter and then you'll find out. I don't know.

OK, this is the story of Angel Aubur, the love child of a cowgirl and a crooked grave robber. Adventurer at heart, but unlucky, as they say, got lost in the forests of Puerto Rico's El Yunk. Oh man I should have I should have. Yunkay. Yunkay. Because it rhymes with they say. Oh yes thank you.

Also I think it's Angel like Angel. Okay let me say it let me say it different. Let me start over then. This is the story of Angel Auberg, the love child of a cowgirl and a crooked grave robber. Adventurer at heart, but unlucky as they say, got lost in the forests of Puerto Rico's El Yunque. After three days amiss, not a track, print, or sent, Angel reappeared again just as suddenly as he went. But trailing behind was something to chill you to the

bone, for you see Angel Ogre did not return alone. Hunched gray and scaly with eyes that spark a fierce glint, a companion fit for Cerberus at the entrance to the fiery pit. Or perhaps a friend for Fenrir? pit or perhaps a friend for Fenrir, Fenrir? Fenrir? Fenrir? I have no idea. I'm gonna say Fenrir. Yeah. Or perhaps a friend for Fenrir to break his chained lock, ushering in the beginning of Ragnarok. Holy crap. To Angel's house went this motley pair, this quixotic human seeming not to have a worry or care. Folks say they catch glimpses and the late evening fog of Angel playing fetch with something, well, it isn't a dog. Is it a reptile or a hound?

Yellow eyes glowing back at you from the goat pen at night, worn with a bark that is far less worse than his bite. And that, now that we have finished, is titled, Chupacabra Macabra. Whoa, goose cam meter going on up. Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding. Now that was beautiful. The title, honestly, was my favorite

because you know I love a good rhyming little pair. Chupacabra macabre. Oh my God, that is- Beautiful. Beautiful, really well done. Beautiful chef's kiss. Kristy, wow, wow. That was powerful. His bark is far less-

Worse than his bite. Worse than his bite, wow, wow. I love that. Beautiful imagery. I think we can all agree. A h than his bite. Wow. Wow. I love that. Beautiful imagery. I think we can all agree. A hush falls around the crowd.

We all nod. Yes. Yeah. An agreeable hush. Yeah. So this comes into us from Elizabeth and it is titled The Jackalopes Lament. I love this. Sun batters barren soil, crusted split wounds gape open without sutures,

the grass has all died off. Cactus skin stretches taut, parchment curling around, upholstery needles waiting to be threaded. Down below, hidden deep, antlers catching roots and scraping against walls, the husk awaits nightfall. Though Warren is too cramped, too hot, too much fur, and too many babies, they have become restless. Evening comes, stars glimmer, one by one they emerge cautious

from their den. Owls hunt them in moonlight, the jackalope arrives, singing to campers in a low tenor voice, luring them from their tents. A promise of whiskey, each jackalope pursues a hapless victim, hoping to not get caught. Puncture holes in their shin, blood soaks socks red and overflows the sneakers, but no reward was found. The camper tells their tale, though not believed. Jeered and laughed at, they know truth. The jackalope is real. Retreating back to home, all returning to the claustrophobic space, unable to find booze.

Tomorrow brings more tries. They will sing their songs and hunt for more whiskey. The jackalope laments. Wow. Wow. Wow, these are just- Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful. Oh, I really, here's what I want for us.

This is what I'm manifesting in 2025. We actually do, we talked to Maggie because there's no way we can do this alone. And- We put on our best pretty please face. And she is sizing grumble grumble grumbles. We should have for Halloween next year a pop-up bar that actually is a Cryptids Unscripted. Where everyone dresses up as cryptids.

And people can read their own poetry. Yes. Oh, and that's so good. We just have a big Halloween event where we just get a bar, a bar that's cool with being spooky. Oh my God, a pop-up scripted, cryptids unscripted is so good. Preferably, if it couldn't be in New England, I would argue it should actually be in my neighborhood of Burbank because we have the most year-round open Halloween stores per

capita so people could come and be part of the spooky stuff and go shopping and it would help the economy. Yeah, the economy of Burbank shopping and it would help the economy. Yeah, the economy of Burbank needs a lot of help. I'm trying to think of how we pitch this to Maggie. I'm trying to figure out how we pitch. I don't think that's the angle, Em. Let's help the economy.

Let's not, I think Maggie wants to help us. And so we need to make it sound like a good idea. Trying to think of a way that we could really sink her teeth in. But- Well, we'll brainstorm it. I think she'll be on board. I hope so. I think we could do it. I think she'll be on board. I hope so. I think we could do it.

And there's gotta be a bar that would let us- Oh yeah. You know what I mean? Just rent a place out, yeah. It would be divine. Divine. I've got several already in mind. I'm excited.

Depending on the size. We'll talk about this off tape, if you will. Yeah, we'll talk about this off the record. Off the record, absolutely. So here we have, this is from Jordan, and this is a poem to one of the best things to come out of Joyzee, that Joyzee little devil. That's right.

Once a brave wanderer with wisdom to share, now lost in the legends, all warned to beware. Cursed by his mother, his pain would be known, fated to be a monster from a family disowned. Born winged as a bat and hoofed as a horse, tales of his longing for a bloody main course. A stroll through forests, signs screaming retreat! Forewarned of the eyes that may follow your feet.

Surely he's lurking and searching for a soul tonight, for a friendly stranger vulnerable in the moonlight. Falling from a pine in one silent swooping descent, a monstrous sad figure rises, but with unclear intent. Don't fear me, he calls in a voice soft and low. I'm searching for solace, somewhere I can go. In the heart of the forest, where all shadows blend, the Jersey Devil resides, but not here to offend.

He longs for connection, for kindness and trust, but fate deemed him a monster in a world unjust, for the 13th son's story is one of despair, a misunderstood soul searching in prayer. Once thought to feast on the blood of the dead, but what the devil most craves is fresh Italian bread. So please listen, don't judge, let compassion take a hold, for even in shadows there can be warmth in the cold." Wow. Wow. I think with all these stories, the goose cam meter is gonna, we need to get a new one.

She's gonna break. Like we- Yeah, I think we're gonna break the thermometer, you know. I think so. And, you know, I think this Jersey devil really needs to have a kinship with that earlier Bigfoot, who they're just looking for some fucking peace. And he likes Italian bread, the Bigfoot likes kale. Hey, and there's that tea party happening. We could make tea sandwiches out of bread and kale.

They're gonna, they're gonna, this is where we remind everybody that there's someone for everyone. That's the idea of this. We're all connecting because we're all different, you know? And we've struggled to find connection in the real world with other cryptids and with humans. So you know what?

Here we can bond and really understand each other. He longs for connection, kindness and trust. Ding, ding, ding. That's all of us, you know? So look around. Look around. That's all we want. And Italian bread.

I want Italian bread too, damn. All right, let's get an order in. We're going to have, let's see. We're going to have the Squam. It looks like there's a hundred thousand people here. So how many breads is that? Bigfoot has a DoorDash app. I already know that.

He has an order open. He could just put us on a group chat, I think, for the bread. Let's just all put a group chat. We add our own individual orders. And then we'll Venmo you, Bigfoot. Don't worry about it. Yeah.

Don't ask us. Don't remind us really though, because the Venmo is coming. It's just we're waiting to get paid. Just don't worry about it. It'll come. It will come. Don't worry. Em, I have a new favorite hobby and activity and passion in life.

It's called cryptid photography. That's one I hasn't hit my mark yet. That's a good thing, because I need to use Squarespace to capture that domain before you get your little grimy hands on it. I want to I want to domain about how many times I can find Mothman out in the wild. Okay, so now I know what Christine's up to spiraling downwards in the middle of the night. And lucky for us, you already have experience with Squarespace because our entire podcast website has been on Squarespace since the beginning.

So you are going to be able to just whip yourself right up a whole new business. It's so easy. It's the all-in-one website platform for entrepreneurs to stand out and succeed online. That is why we love Squarespace. Whether you're just starting out like Christine's Mothman photo business or whatever this is or managing and growing a brand like our podcast, Squarespace makes it easy to create a beautiful website, engage with your audience, and sell anything from products to content

to time all in one place, all on your terms. Squarespace includes SEO tools to help your product, even winking Mothman photos. Stand out online. Every Squarespace website is optimized to be indexed with meta descriptions. Don't even worry about it. So you show up more often to more people

in global search engine results. Squarespace makes it easy to sell access to content on your websites like online courses, how to capture your very own, maybe Mothman mid flap, I don't know. And let's not forget domains by Squarespace allows you to invest in your dream confidently like Christina's doing with her whole new side hustle. Overly confident, just like me. Go to squarespace.com for a free trial and when you're ready to launch, go to squarespace.com slash drink to save 10% off your first purchase of a website or domain. That's squarespace.com slash drink. Make all of your cryptozoological dreams come true, Christine.

I believe in you. Thank you. This is from Nicole Shideh. And it is called Citrie Lunae. Looks like Latin to me. I love that they gave you Latin and I am a tip intimidator and everyone gave me the rhyming ones about bread. You fucking are right.

So I don't know. I think I've butchered this far worse than I intended. Okay, this says, Citria Lunae. Upon a night so spook and drear, the hearseing shifter, so very strong, Did bring to us the dread, the feared, Lunine Lemonaire, Ere the sun. Now I'm gonna start over.

Yeah, okay. Because of your bad attitude. Yeah, let me bundle up before a little citrus rolls into my life. Cover your face up so you don't shock the crowd. Upon a night so spook and drear, the hearse and shifter, so very strong, did bring to us the dread, the feared, Lulane Lemonnaire, ere the song. From Algie P.A. did she strike, with waning moon and mighty roar, those once afeard with sour pike to right the wrongs

of all our lore. Guided by Mothman, it is true, and by Gio, fluffiest floof, did Lounine Lemonnaire march through, air and earth, water and poof, to take her vengeance on those who commit the crimes and spook the few. Wow. Also I love that- Spook the few, I am the few. Yeah, you are, certainly. I also love that this is called

Poetry Slim Submission, parentheses, safe for work. Ah! Girl, what's happening over there? We've had some that were, oh wait, oh it's a, it's an anagram of Leona's name. Oh, I definitely just heard citrus and lemon and there was no way I was gonna hear anything else. Maybe that's Latin.

Okay, sorry Eva, sorry. Actually, sorry Nicole. Okay, sorry, it says I spent far too much time anagramming Leona's name to Lonine Lemmoner of Al-GPA. Which is wild because we have said so many times that Leona's name is part of the anagram for Halloween. That's true too. It could have, well, I don't know if all of Halloween

could have been side with that, but I appreciate the exotic. There's no H in her name, so. Sheifer. Oh, is Sheifer not involved in the last name? Mm-mm. I mean, not legally. I didn't want to, cause I was like, I don't like my name anyway.

Well, if she ever needs extra letters, you can just sneak Sheifer in there. Just, just. Hmm. I, it sounds all of a sudden so much more like she's like a spy, like an Italian spy or something. Like she came without warning and turned our worlds upside down. It's amazing how as soon as I revoke

the lemon aspect from it, I'm like, I've got a story building process. You're suddenly so chill with it. Yeah. Amazing. Speaking of which, here's something I hate. This is from Sarah and it literally says, please have Em read it.

So I feel like I'm about to be tortured. This is called, it's a reading by Zach Bagan. So now I fucking know why I was requested. I have to sing, say it as if I'm ZB, I think. This is a poem called, Ode to Zest. So guess, guess how I feel about this. Let's bring ZB to the stand. Um, here we go. In the darkened corner of a ghostly cafe,

sat a lemon, petrified in the strangest way. Not just any fruit. No, this one had spunk. It traveled the world in a paranormal trunk. Oh, that's true. I mean, so far we're right. Zach Bagan's here on the case once again, with a lemon that haunts a citrusy bane. It's been to graveyards, to castles, and Rome.

Okay, wow, okay, manifesting here. First of all, it sure hasn't. Unless maybe he has, and I just didn't know about it. Yet it always finds its way back to someone's home. And then Christine, yes, from And That's Why We Drink, got this haunted lemon. What did she think? It rolled off the shelf with a ghostly squeak. She knew right then this lemon was bleak. This is my life now, Christine would shout, as the lemon would move and wander about. Em, of course, had theories galore. Maybe it's cursed by a fruit-loving lore. But I, Zack, wasn't fooled by this citrusy pest. Its traveling spirit was not one to jest. With night vision goggles, I chased it down. In haunted museums, it rolled through the town. In haunted museums, it rolled through the town.

Did you feel that cold spot? I asked Aaron. Aaron is not involved, I just put that in here. I asked quite serious. This lemon's vibe was getting mysterious. As it hummed and rattled, Christine shrieked with glee. This is so on brand, just perfect for me. This is so on brand, just perfect for me! So we saged that lemon and gave it a name. Its paranormal pranks would never be the same. Now it haunts Christine's kitchen right by her sink. A traveling lemon? Who'd rather not stink?

It's not in the trash anymore. As Christine laughed, she gave it a hug. I love lemon, she said, as it gave her a tug. The mystery persists from dusk till dawn. Will this lemon move on? Or keep rolling on? Only time will tell if it stays in one place or haunts another podcast with its not-so-hello-fresh face. From Sarah.

Okay, Kassian. From Zachary Alexander Bates. From Sarah. Yeah. Wow, that was powerful. Certainly powerful. I started getting really defensive during it. And then I was like, I need to relax. This is not, this is not about me right now. Well, I think we only have one more in our Baker's Dozen. Oh my gosh, that went fast.

Okay. We have one more. You're right. This is from Hillary. And let me see. It is called The Night Before Clomis. Hell yeah. Wow. Hell yeah.

Thank you, Hillary. Ending it strong, girl. Here we go. I've got a cozy holiday tale for you. It all began once upon a Christmas Eve. The lights had been turned way down low. It all began once upon a Christmas Eve. The lights had been turned way down low. The children were fast asleep by their glow.

The dogs were snoring. The parents were done pouring their eggnog in the rooms below. Then boom, one child awoke. He had heard a clamor, but no one spoke. He quietly tiptoed toward the noise. It was coming from the presents for all the girls and boys. He peeked around and to his surprise he saw a large shadow and wait, was that a claw?

He froze at the sight just up ahead. He couldn't run so he spoke instead. Don't touch my presents, you gross smelly dude! Immediately regretting that he had been quite rude. The tall figure stumbled and looked his way. The child hadn't recognized him without his sleigh. But something wasn't right about Santa Claus, because out of his mouth hung one of the reindeer paws. Santa shuffled and huffled as he quickly grew near, saying,

my favorite treat are eight tiny reindeer. He continued, My name is Santa Claw, you see? If you see one long claw, then you'll know it was me. The boy gasped and screamed at the sight, but Santa Claw just yawned, laid down and said good night. The terrified boy didn't know what to do. Maybe this is a dream and none of it's true. So he forced himself back into bed and eventually all the thoughts

drifted out of his head. He awoke in the morning to bright sunlight, joining his family with no Santa Claw in sight. It was a dream, he declared, but no one in his family really cared. They proceeded to presents and soon he forgot that just the night before he had been scared a lot. The last present was wrapped in a mess of tape and paper. His parents shrugged and said maybe his excitement would taper. The boy slowly opened his present alone. His eyes grew wide when he saw a tiny reindeer bone. Mary Clawmiss the end. Now that's frightening. That sounds like at the end of a horror movie when like you think the body's dead and it twitches

and it goes straight to the credits. It's like an inception when the top is spinning and you're just waiting to see if it like, yes, but you don't really know. Oh my God. And you'll never know. Powerful. Oh my God. Wow. Powerful. Powerful. Oh my God. Well done.

Everybody, well done to all of our cryptids, all of our poems. We're so proud of you. We're so impressed. I can't believe how talented you all are. Couldn't be me, I'll tell you right now. Unless we have a pop-up. If we have a pop-up, I will write.

Oh, Em and I will. We will come up with something. We'll fucking focus. Okay, if we do this for real, yeah, we will get it done. That would be beautiful. We could do like a duet, like we could do some sort of, well, we'll figure it out. We'll figure it out.

We haven't even gotten permission to do this yet. Maybe if the only way we can convince our managers if there is a cry out to the world, everybody please. I wonder how we can ask if people would attend. We'll have to figure out. Like a survey monkey. Right, yeah, let's just say the survey monkey.

No, that would be lovely. I think that would be so fun. I guess it probably also depends on where it is, depending on if people can come. But yeah, we'll try to figure it out. That would be beautiful. I would love that. Okay, wow, thank you everybody.

This was so much fun. Happy Halloween. Happy Halloween, that's right. Oh my wow, thank you everybody. This was so much fun. Happy Halloween. Happy Halloween, that's right. Oh my gosh, what a special day. And I hope everyone's having fun tonight. I hope you're all gonna get dressed or go to a party or do something silly or go to- Or just like eat candy or just like-

And watch scary movies. Get DoorDash and some kale, like that Bigfoot, you know? So that's how you- Yeah, that's a little Netflix and kale, you know what I mean? Yeah, happy Halloween. They say spooky season is now over for the year, but I just don't believe them.

It's just beginning. It's now the new ramp up to Halloween. Thank you everyone. We'll see you tomorrow with a listeners episode. That's right, on Dia de los Muertos. And that's why we drink.