|buy prints of select halfsquatch photographs at etsy or dawanda. (prints of all photographs are available upon request)||day 63
Three uniformed security guards wheeled the Lady Sasquatch out of the Sasquatch Circus tent and around the back of the lodge while five more kept onlookers away. The guards wore crackling two-way radios strapped into holsters across their chests and they were each outfitted with an earpiece. Tucky had shrouded the Lady Sasquatch in a white sheet.
Tucky insisted the producers of Sasquatch Summer shoot the reenactment of the scene in the garage after ten, when the Sasquatch Circus closed for the night. No one other than Tucky was permitted to touch or move the Lady Sasquatch during the shoot. As her handler, he would remain on-set at all times, and was adamant that the Lady Sasquatch be covered with the white sheet during any downtime. He also tried to negotiate through his lawyer a per diem for the Lady Sasquatch, but the producers balked and he settled for a “handler’s fee” that scraped barely into five-figures.
To offset Tucky’s fee, the producers accepted Andrea Thompson’s proposition: she was willing to pay to have her Bigfoot Cinnamon Buns featured in the reenactment scenes. She was prepared to pay a product placement fee. The show’s budget was tight. The producers agreed.
Scott, who was playing the duel role of producer and director, barked orders at a cameraman. Julie scampered after him with a clipboard and pen in hand. Tom checked to see how Stew’s makeup was coming along. Andrea Thompson guarded the craft services table — a cooler filled with cans of juice and soda and bottles of water, paper plates, napkins and stacks of Bigfoot Cinnamon Buns. Dave sulked in a chair in the corner, far away from the action. Paula talked into her cell phone and Jeremy clicked away on his laptop. Raylene and Nicole, who both wore tight Bigfoot Cinnamon Bun T-shirts, snapped their gum and complained of boredom.
Stew’s face was powered white. His eyes were heavily lined in black kohl and his lips were painted red. He wore a long black sweater and skirt, boots and of course, a black wig. He practiced his Rebecca walk and Julie giggled.
Since the reenactments would play with voiceover, no one had any lines, but in an effort to achieve realism, Scott asked that all the participants try their best to speak naturally, the way they remember doing that night. It was up to Dave and the others to fill Stew in on what Rebecca said and did.
“We were playing Scrabble and making sure the icebox was filled,” Dave said as Scott ushered him over to where they’d set up a game board on the same collapsible card table they’d used that night.
Scott told Stew to sit across from Dave. “So pretend you’re Rebecca and you’re playing a nice game of Scrabble with your best friend.”
Stew looked at Scott blankly. “What’s Scrabble?”