My State Monsters
Florida is my state and I’ll be the first to admit it’s weird. If we’re not ducking natural disasters like hurricanes, zika virus, and sinkholes that can swallow a town, were dealing with more than our share of monsters. Despite theories that they prefer dark, shadowy corners, several of them seem to have settled happily in the Sunshine State.
Myakka Skunk Ape
The Skunk Ape is our version of Bigfoot. It was first spotted by an unnamed Sarasota woman back in the 1960s who sent the county sheriff’s department photographs of what she thought was an orangutan in her back yard. It appeared on three consecutive nights at her house near the Myakka River, eating apples from her back porch. It smelled awful, hence the name. In 2013, another Floridian took a fuzzy 1:55 minute video on his iPhone of the Skunk Ape in the Myakka River State Park.
Although Florida wildlife officials deny the existence of the skunk ape, it’s obviously a government conspiracy, as sightings have been reported over the years, with the beast showing up in the day and at night, in all sorts of environments. It appears to favor swampy areas, usually where the consumption of beer is involved. No way does it look like a guy in a monkey suit.
Much like Bigfoot, the evidence collected over time consists of photos, hair samples, and a few foot casts. The Skunk Ape has four toes unlike Bigfoot, which has five. A website devoted to the creature, The Florida Skunk Ape, receives several reports of sightings each week, and spikes during football season when Florida Gator fans hold tailgate parties.
Butt Spider
The Butt Spider is a crafty arachnoid who lurks under toilet seats and crawls out to bite your butt. Why? No one knows. Again, it’s suspected beer is involved. Fortunately, there are no pictures.
Muck Monster
The Muck Monster inhabits Lake Worth. It’s reported to be shy and earned the name “the elusive muck monster” diving to the bottom of the lake when strangers get within ten feet, leaving only deep ripples in its wake and empty beer cans bobbing to the surface. No way does it look like a bunch of junk, a gator, or a manatee's flipper in the water, unless you’re sober.
The Devil’s Chair
Cassadaga is a small unincorporated hamlet in Volusia County. Called the Psychic Capital of the World for the large number of psychic and medium inhabitants, it also has the Devil’s Chair. Located in a cemetery, the Devil’s Chair is a wide brick bench. Legend states it was built by the devil and each night at midnight, he kicks back and puts his feet up. (Probably with a cold beer.) Rumor says if you sit on it, he whispers evil ideas and you’re forever haunted by the experience. If you leave a full can of beer on the chair (unopened) and return the next morning, the can will be empty and still unopened.
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