The latest Bigfoot fiasco (very likely a hoax) has got me thinking…
Say you were in the woods, and come upon a dead Sasquatch. You have enough friends and equipment with you to transport the body. What would you do?
Would your first thought be, “I want to make some money out of this discovery!” or “I need to get the body to a qualified expert to verify this stupendous discovery!”
This should be interesting!
Has it started to spoil yet?
Pee on it. It’s mine, then.
I’d call the police, I guess. If it looks like a genuine dead Bigfoot, I figure there’s probably still a good chance that it’s a dead person in a Bigfoot costume. They’d get the coroner to determine the truth of the matter. If it’s the real deal, then I reckon it’s mine anyway-- if it’s not on somebody else’s land, that is. I’m honestly unsure how ownership is determined for “dead things found in the woods.” It may vary by state. I think it’s usually legal to keep road-killed deer though.
How would one even “make money” from discovering a dead Bigfoot? I’m unclear on that part.
If they exist (and I doubt they do) it might turn out that sasquatches are simply another race of humans. One should treat a dead sasquatch as one would treat finding a dead person. I’d call the cops.
So… Has it started to spoil? 
MMMMM! Sasquatch! Them’s good eatin!
“I need to get the body to a qualified expert to verify this stupendous discovery!”
This one.
I wouldn’t move it. I’d want to take pictures and video, and I’m not in it for the money, and I think I’d make just as much money as “the woman who found the Bigfoot carcass” as I would as “the woman who’s selling off bits of Bigfoot on eBay.”
I think I’d call my neighbor…the one with all the guns…to protect it from you and Johnny L.A (who’s apparently thinking “road kill!”) and maybe Mangetout, then I call the county extension agent. Then we fill all the memory chips on both our cameras with lots of pictures of us posing with the beast. (I hope it hasn’t begun to spoil.)
First, I’d get a ton of pictures. Then I’d resist the strange, overpowering urge to turn it into a lolfoot.
After snapping off about a million pictures and calling my best friend to freak out, I’d call the Department of Natural Resources, who’d be the most likely to be able to identify a strange animal. I wouldn’t start showing pictures to people until a professional was genuinely baffled. I’ve seen multiple people show off their “chupacabra” finds which are clearly Mexican hairless dogs or foxes with mange, and I’d rather not look like an idiot.
Assuming I’m sure it’s the real thing? Take some fast notes, and pictures if I have a camera, and start calling colleagues to get in touch with somebody in some newsroom. Then more notes and pictures and calls as I ponder being famous and perhaps rich.
That’s pretty much my view of things. It’s much more likely to be a guy in a suit or some other fake, after all.
If I did think it was real, I’d strongly consider running for my life, actually. If Bigfoots ( including their bodies ) haven’t been found after so much time and effort, that implies that they are smart, sneaky, systematic - and cleaning up any evidence. If I try to lead someone to it, some Bigfoot lurking nearby and watching could decide to turn me into a missing person statistic, along with disposing of his buddy’s body.
Simple,
SSG Schwartz
hmmmm
I’d have sex with it…then sell the story to the National Enquirer…but of course in my version of the story da Big Foot was making unwanted advances…maybe even had one of those probe thingies…and I killed it in self defense…
Plans such as these “may” be why I am such an impoverished social outcast…or maybe not…
Blll
I like the way you think billfish.
Take as many photos as I can, take a few samples, document the site, then do my damnedest to return with a pro to figure out what the hell it is.
And definitely make a lolfoot.
Good god, I’m post 16 and I’m the first one with the real answer?
Poke it with a stick.
Then you can do all those other things. Geez people, where are your priorities?
“Hey Chimera, hold my beer and watch this!”
I’d realize that there is only one thing that hairy still living in the United States.
Then I’d grab a loaded shotgun, crack some smelling salts under his nose and say:
[spoiler]**"Listen, Ron Jeremy! You have til the count of Three to Run your hairy backside the hell off my property afore I fill it with rock salt!
You hearin’ me?
Now, Run…!
One…
Rack-Shack
Two…"**[/spoiler]
Start giving Bigfoot Corpse tours for $499 per person.
Stash the big foot in a freezer, but put it in an obviously fake (leave the zipper showing) bigfoot costume first. Take pictures, Call Art Bell/George Noory and get on their show…
Make a public bet that it IS a real bigfoot…
(Calling James Randi)
At the big event (be sure there is a bajillion publicity types around… Hype the crap out of it… take side bets
Pull the mask off…
Yay! Fun and Profit!
(Charge $15,000/minute for talk shows profit ensues again…
Sell movie rights
FML