Why is the gov't secretly making beer for Bigfoots?

I like reading on the Outdoors page of our local newspaper every Thursday about the critter of the week, usually one that's rare or endangered. But while the article always gives a lot of info about habitat, lifespan and whatnot, it almost never has a recipe.

I'm not saying I would ever intentionally hunt down a protected species, knock it on the head and throw it in the deep fryer. I'm just saying if I should happen to stumble across a recently deceased Bigfoot, I'd like to know the best way to handle the opportunity.

Nobody on the Internet has a decent Bigfoot recipe. I think that's why our little corner of the Ozarks is overrun.

I can't claim I've seen any around our place myself, but they're there. When your min-pins start barking every 10 minutes for what seems like no reason, you've either got a Bigfoot problem or your little dogs are stupid.

I admit to wondering whether it wasn't the dogs being a little daffy, but there's other evidence. Seems like whenever Joyce and I both have to work, when we get home, some critter has dragged trash all over the place.

Bigfoots are partial to potato chip bags, peanut butter jars and styrofoam cups, and sometimes they play mean tricks. We've found Gizmo, the matriarch of our canine clan, with a peanut butter jar stuck on her head more than once.

The reason I know it must be Bigfoots is that the mess is both inside the house - usually on my side of the bed - and outside. No animal without opposable thumbs would be able to open the door.

I think Bigfoots also terrorize the chickens when we're not home. Thelma, Louise, Lucy and Ethel all show symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. No matter what you do around them, they're convinced you're trying to kill them.

Try to fill their water dish outside, and they go flapping and squawking away in a panic. Scatter some feed in their pen and they almost have heart attacks. "Aaaahh! He's trying to kill us! Again!"

I can't imagine that they're idiot chickens. They've all done well on standardized tests, at least the multiple choice parts. Ethel's the only one who's any good at essay questions. We home-school.

Something has those chickens scared, and it's Bigfoots, mark my words.

There's a recipe on the Internet for Bigfoot burgers, but it calls for ground beef. What kind of idiot makes Bigfoot burgers out of dead cow meat? I wrote an angry letter to the website, but I haven't heard back.

Lots of recipes are out there for Bigfoot beer. The only thing that I can think is that those recipes must come from some secret government program.

It only makes sense. A normal person like you and me would take pictures if we captured a Bigfoot long enough for it to taste-test beer. Probably, once the Bigfoot was a little tipsy, we'd put it in a dress and try to teach it to ride a bicycle or something. Or let it loose in the courthouse. Oh man, I would pay to see that.

Come on, you know you would too.

Whatever we did with it would no doubt make the papers, if not CNN. Since that hasn't happened, the Bigfoot beer brewers have to be the only ones in the world humorless enough to get a Bigfoot drunk and not eventually break some kind of law.

That just screams "secret government program" to me.