His is a sad life. So much potential. Star of the junior varsity Golf Club he was. Then he turned to hard liquor, OTB and women of questionable character, in eighth grade no less. Watching the syphilis eat away at his gargantuan frame was a sight to behold. It took years just to slim him down to human proportions. It was the open, oozing wounds that scared the children the most. He loved that job as crossing guard, unfortunately even the little children (trained early on about acceptance of the mutated) could no longer gaze upon him without spontaneous regurgitation. The last I heard he had a gig up in the Adirondacks doing the East Coast version of Sasquatch for a Summer carny sideshow in Lake George. He's most likely run through his cash, rumor had it his hideousness made bank from the suburban wannabe NYers dragging their spawn 'up into the country, "the air is good for ya". I don't believe the whole stalking Rachael Ray incident. He was simply rifling through her trash, spelunking for a hit of EVOO I imagine. I've had unintelligible messages on my phone now and again leading me to believe he's still alive and has access to the demon Bourbon and North Country livestock that farmers won't miss. Quite a character, that guy.
This is fiction.
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