Dave & Vinny: The Search for Big Foot

The Rampant Horse was a local pub that had seen better days. Its faded sign creaked in the wind, and the paint was peeling off the door like an old banana. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of stale beer and the sound of a jukebox playing the same old tunes on repeat. The only thing less inviting than the décor was Ken, the barman. With a scowl permanently etched on his face, he had the charisma of a wet mop and the patience of a hungry dog waiting for a treat.

“Another pint, Vinny?” Ken grumbled, barely looking up from behind the bar as Vinny, a stout man with a penchant for loud shirts, waved his empty glass.

“Go on then, Ken, I’ll have one for the road. It’s either this or I head home and to watch YouTube until the wee small hours and they think us bachelors live it up.”
Vinny chuckled, his voice booming in the half-empty pub.

Ken grunted, pouring the pint with a disdainful flick of his wrist that suggested he’d rather be anywhere else.

Dave, Vinny’s partner in crime, sat at the bar with his own pint in hand, grinning. “You know, Vinny, I reckon you’d rather watch YouTube than talk about what you saw down that alleyway.”

Vinny leaned in, his eyes wide with excitement. “I’m telling you, Dave, it was Big Foot! Down the Longcroft estate! I swear…