ON BOARD THE TRAIN, THE COLONIAL – THE STATE OF PENNSYLVANIA
Mr. Higgins and Wild Bill are having an animated conversation. Wild Bill passes a flask over to Mr. Higgins whom hesitates before swigging it back. He turns red and splutters, but he swallows the whisky down. Wild Bill roars with laughter and thumps Mr. Higgins on the back, whom smiles back weakly. He indicates at his satchel, and Wild Bill nods. Obviously pleased, Mr. Higgins digs out his recorder and turns it on.
“In search of the Uni, erm, unique creatures: tape fifteen, entry two. I have had the most fortunate bit of luck to run into a very fascinating character, Mr. James Butler Hickok, also known as, Wild Bill. Mr. Hickok has been so kind to agree to an interview about his exploits as a famed hunter of the wild and dangerous beast, the Chupacabra, of which the literal translation is goat sucker. Tell me Mr. Hickok, how is it a man becomes a Chupacabra hunter?”
“Well, seeing how I was getting a pretty tired of gunslinging and being a lawman–I was laying with my favorite whore one evening and telling her all about hows I was tired of it all, and she says to me, ‘James, why don’t you try your hand at killing something besides other men?’ And I says, ‘Why Nessy gal, that is why you are my favorite!’ I knew of some folks that were having a real hard time down across the border because of some creature that was killing all the livestock, so I started there.”
Mr. Higgins stares at Wild Bill for a moment, uncertain, before clearing his throat.
“Yes, well, harumph, I suppose your favorite, err, woman, must be very proud of you now. Have you seen the Chupacabra up close?”
“Have I seen it? Lord, you better believe I seen it! See this scar running up my arm? That’s from one of them suckers teeth! I tell you, Eddie, them creatures are nasty. They look like coyotes, but ain’t as skinny. More of thick like a pig, with the skin of a lizard and a real long set of fangs. If that warn’t enough, they got a long row of armored spikes running down their spine. Them spikes make it real hard to kill. You gotta aim for the chest, underneath the chin, which means you gotta be real close. Like this.”
Wild Bill shifts to stare an inch away from Mr. Higgins’s face. His voice drops to a whisper.
“And they suck those poor livestock dry. You know I once had a farmer, who had a whole herd of cattle, must of been sixty or seventy of em, and every single one was sucked dry, not a drop of blood anywhere.”
Mr. Higgins swallows convulsively and pulls away from the chupacabra hunter whose nose almost touching Mr. Higgins’s. Wild Bill remains frozen, his expression far away.
“Yes, err, thank you, Mr. Hickok, that was most informative and colorful. The gentlemen at the Naturalist Society will be most interested to hear about this, most interested. Tape fifteen, entry two.”