Obsequiam, and a customer service representative elf named Irritatious. Obsequiam had called Irritatious to retrieve information about a warranty on his Destructomatic 3400's electromagnetic capacitor.
Obsequiam is upset about, not only the reliability issues of his Destructomatic 3400's electromagnetic capacitor, but also at the incompetence of Irritatious. It soon comes to light that Irritatious does not even work for Destructomatic, but for a third party customer service agency operated from the North Pole. Obsequiam vows to take revenge upon Irritatious, but they later become allies and even friends, their happenstance relationship culminating in Irritatious being Obesquiam's best man in his wedding at the North Pole shortly after the two of them save the universe from certain destruction.
The particular exchange that Bigfoot's ghost was trying to remember regarded an off-topic discussion between Obsequiam and Irritatious of famous cryptid baseball players of the first half of the twentieth century as they waited for Irritatious' customer service supervisor to get on the line to resolve the warranty issue of the Destructomatic 3400's electromagnetic capacitor. Irritatious would not budge on the issue, claiming that merman Flippin' Frank Flidizzio was the finest cryptid baseball player of the era. Obsequiam had objected wholeheartedly, but Bigfoot's ghost could not remember the cryptid baseball player that Obequiam had argued in favor of.
It was a truly beautiful exchange, eloquently written and flawlessly delivered by Obsequiam, and Bigfoot's ghost knew that it would drive him crazy if he did not refresh himself with the content of the play as soon as possible. He peered around the tree trunk once more. There was still no sign of the centaur. His wristwatch read 2:02 A.M. What was taking her so long?
As though the centaur had read his phantasmic thoughts, she appeared at the front door. She pushed it open with her shoulders, her chain clad spectacles already adorned upon her weathered human-like face, her arms full of books. Bigfoot's ghost hoped dearly that 'Some Ado About Literally Everything' was not one of the books in her arms. The centaur closed the door and set the stack of books upon her horse-like haunches as she extracted a set of keys and locked the front door of the library. She adjusted her glasses and picked up the pile of books into her arms once more before trotting across the library parking lot and disappearing into the surrounding woods.
Bigfoot's ghost listened as the clips and clops of the centaur's hooves slowly dissipated into the ether. The unnatural and absolutely terrifying form of a ghostly sea serpent slithered through the breeze that ruffled the leaves and grass surrounding the library. The sea serpent ghost paused at the doorway and unlocked it. Unlocking the door was something of a formality since all of the cryptid ghosts could glide through the door if they pleased. Some chose to actually open the door though. Perhaps they just enjoyed the ceremony.
The sea serpent's ghost, however, glided right through the glass after unlocking the library door. Bigfoot's ghost sighed deeply, still standing behind the tree trunk. He wanted to wait until the sea serpent's ghost at least turned on the lights before he entered the library. A few moments later, light poured through the library windows, casting yellowed beams into the parking lot surrounding the building.
Bigfoot's ghost looked around, double checking that the coast was clear of living cryptids, creatures, humans, and human ghosts before stepping aside from the tree trunk he had been hiding behind and trudging through the tall grass toward the library.
The grass did not move aside as he silently walked through it toward the library, his long luminescent arms swinging wide in the moonlit meadow. He did not have to walk, he could glide like every other ghost, but he preferred to continue his signature Bigfoot strut, even in death. His ghostly weightless feet met the pavement and made no sound as he exited the grass.
As he neared the illuminated glass doors of the library, Bigfoot's ghost saw another pearlescent figure gliding through the cool night air from the edge of the woods and toward the library. Bigfoot's ghost stopped in his tracks and squinted through the darkness at the gleaming figure floating through the air. Bigfoot's ghost had left his spectacles at his home-cave in the Spectral Crypto-Condo Residential Caves, so he had to wait until the ghostly creature was very close before he could ascertain what it was.
"Bigfoot? Is that you?" the creature asked. Once it had neared, Bigfoot's ghost was able to see that it was the ghost of a minotaur.
"I am. Well... I used to be anyways," Bigfoot's ghost said, chuckling half-heartedly. He had been dead for a long time, but he was still having trouble coming to terms with it. Being recognized everywhere he went, however, was an occupational hazard of being Bigfoot, alive or dead. He was quite used to that aspect.
"I knew it was you! Edgar Price, minotaur ghost," the minotaur said, extending his human-like hand as his glowing bull-like hooves shifted silently upon the asphalt.
Bigfoot's ghost shook Edgar's hand. When they were done, Edgar continued to stare excitedly into Bigfoot's ghost's face. He cast hastily for something to say. "What brings you to the library this evening?"
"News. I love the newspapers. Though, I guess it's technically yesterday's news by now," the minotaur said, the trees behind him showing through the translucent horns upon his head.
"Ah, of course. Well, It was ni - ," Bigfoot's ghost began to say, hoping to cut the interaction short so that he could go about his business, but Edgar the ghost of a minotaur cut him off.
"And what are you doing here, Bigfoot?" Edgar asked.
It was something of a pet peeve of Bigfoot's ghost to still be referred to as Bigfoot. He preferred to be called 'the cryptid formerly known as Bigfoot' or simply as 'sir', but he did not press the issue. "Snakespeare," he said simply, as he began to walk toward the door. Edgar the minotaur's ghost shadowed him.
"I love Snakespeare!" Edgar exclaimed as he and Bigfoot's ghost glided through the tall glass doors at the entrance of the library. "Which play are you reading?"
Bigfoot's ghost sighed as they paused in front of the receptionist’s desk which the ghostly sea serpent now sat at. He was anxious to start reading, and even more anxious to end this conversation. "Some Ado About Literally Everything," he said.
"That's a good one, that's a good one," Edgar repeated, nodding his horned luminescent bull head vigorously. "But I'm partial to 'The Taming of the Jackalope'."
"You don't say..." Bigfoot's ghost mumbled, looking around and beginning to take a step away from the minotaur. "Well, I'm going to - ,"
"I just found the whole story to be really enlightening, you know? And relevant to my life. You see, back when I was just a horrendous, catastrophic crime against nature of a calf, I - "
Bigfoot's ghost's eyes slid out of focus as he tried to listen to the minotaur ghost's story about how Snakespeare's 'The Taming of the Jackalope' was related to his childhood. He waited in vain for a break or a pause in which he might be able to break away from the conversation, but that break never came.
"... and then, you know the part, I'm sure you do, the part when King Hophorn the VIII banishes his eightieth queen in a row from the underground kingdom, that's when I realized that the whole situation aligned perfectly to my spelling test problems I'd been having in middle school. Just like King Hophorn, I - "
Bigfoot's ghost chanced a glance at the librarian. The sea serpent ghost had put down the book he had been perusing idly upon their entry and was now gazing at the minotaur ghost open mouthed, apparently astonished that anyone could be so oblivious to the fact that they were absolutely boring the unwilling participant of their conversation.
"So that was the first time I roller-skated, but it wouldn't be my last, I assure you! Anyways, after the junior prom, I - "
"Hey, listen Edgar," Bigfoot's ghost began speaking in what he hoped was a polite but stern tone. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I've really got to find this book."
"Oh, of course... Listen to me babbling on!" Edgar Price, ghost of a minotaur, said as he threw back his bovine head in a peal of raucous laughter.
&
nbsp; "Right... Well, good evening! Enjoy your newspaper..."
"Oh, I will, Bigfoot. I will. But hey, at this point in the day they should call it the 'oldspaper' am I right?" the minotaur ghost asked with a smirk, leaning forward and nudging Bigfoot's ghost with an elbow that passed right through him. This lame joke had gone too far. Bigfoot's ghost's kindness had been worn too thin. He narrowed his eyes and turned from the ghostly apparition of the minotaur to face the librarian.
"How can I help you?" the sea serpent ghost asked in a deep sea accent. Bigfoot's ghost could see the silhouette of the minotaur ghost disappearing toward the periodicals section in his peripheral vision and took a deep breath of relief.
"I need to find the Classic Cryptid Literature section. Particularly, I need Snakespeare's play 'Some Ado About Literally Everything', please."
The librarian rose from behind the desk and approached a set of card catalog cabinets. Instead of opening the drawers, the sea serpent ghost hovered into the air and slithered directly into the solid cabinets as it searched for the location of the Snakespeare plays. The ghost sea serpents long spectral tail protruded from the front and sides of the cabinet until it burst forth from the front with a card in its claws.
"It'll be on the second floor. Take a right when you