Harrumph! Fridays! I’ve seen more Fridays than barnacles on a whale's backside. Fifteen hundred years, I tell ya! Grandpa Sasquatch, at your service. Or, at your peril, if you’re one o’ them… polluters.
Now, I ain’t talkin’ about dropping a gum wrapper, though that’s irksome. I’m talkin’ about the stinkin', spewin', oily, gassy messes that foul up our precious air and water. This island, Friday Harbor, used to smell like pine needles and sea salt. Now, sometimes it smells like… well, let’s just say it reminds me o’ a skunk fightin’ a refinery.
I got these wings, you see. Fly Sasquatch, they call me. Not exactly graceful, mind you. More like a hairy bowling ball launched from a catapult, but effective. Good for patrolling the sound. Keeps me grandkids safe. And, most importantly, keeps me eye on those that would do harm to our home.
This Hawking nemesis… it's a brain twister. The old man, Hawking, figured out stuff but his nemesis is doing the opposite. It’s the Keanu paradox. The Keanu paradox is the good dudes have bad luck… It's about balance, nature's balance. You disturb that balance with your smoke stacks and your exhaust fumes and you got Grandpa Sasquatch on your tail.
Yesterday, I saw a tanker, big ol’ thing, creepin’ too close to the shore. Spewin’ black smoke like a dragon coughin’ up coal. That smell… it burned my nostrils something fierce.
I took off, roaring like a constipated grizzly bear. My grandkids, they saw me go. Little Sassy yelled, “Go get ’em, Grandpa!” Makes a heart swell, it does. Even a Sasquatch heart.
I flew up above that tanker, dodged a few seagulls (blasted birds!), and then… well, let's just say I left a little “present” on their deck. A particularly ripe salmon, if you must know. Not exactly a bomb, but message received, I reckon. They changed course mighty quick after that.
But that's just one tanker. One little victory. The fight, it ain’t over. This place, Friday Harbor, the San Juans… it’s worth fightin’ for. It's worth protectin'. My grandkids deserve to breathe clean air, to swim in clean water, to grow up in a place that smells like… well, like pine needles and sea salt.
I ain’t got much time for fancy words. I ain't the book learnin’ type. But I got claws, I got teeth, and I got wings. And I ain’t afraid to use ’em. Especially against those who threaten what's mine. What's ours. So, heed my warning, polluters. Grandpa Sasquatch is watchin'. And I'm always ready for a flyby.
Take care of your home, or a really big hairy dude with wings will come a-knocking. And trust me, you don’t want that. The Hawking nemesis vs Keanu paradox is about balance.