“How do you mean?” Skeeter asked.
“Well, it didn’t do nothin’ to Spider. It was just taking a walk. Spider comes roarin’ up on his Harley and gets the crap scared out of him, I don’t know how much of that is Bigfoot’s fault.”
“What happened to the Bubba who says stuff like ‘you find ‘em, I shoot ‘em,’ and other stupid one-liners?”
“I’m still here, but I don’t want to shoot no innocent monster just because Spider’s scared of a big hairy dude with a giant wiener.”
“I can understand that, Bubba. But it’s the job. We hunt monsters.”
“Yeah, but they ain’t all evil, are they?” I thought back on the vegetarian vampires, the lovestruck rakshasa and other hapless bastards I’d fought and helped in the past few months. It sure was easier when they were all evil, or at least amoral bastards, like
