Me and Max the Drunken Severed Head were driving around in Butler, PA. Max now writes for Famous Monsters Magazine so he's all hoity-toidy and wanted to eat at this Italian restaurant located somewhere down a long and winding side road. We don't find it. So instead, he suggests the Beacon Hotel restaurant located on another long and winding side road in the opposite direction. I sort of leaned toward it myself given the hoity-toidy sounding name: I mean, we could tell everyone at the Monster Bash we ate at the Beacon, and wait for all those admiring and envious smiles. Well, searching for the Beacon Hotel, we saw this huge brown, must-be-another-chainsaw-sculpted bear–we're thinking–given we're in Pennsylvania, so don't pay it too much mind.
We drove past it and eventually find the Beacon Hotel restaurant. We both wished we drove past that, too. But that's another short story. All I'll say for now is if I ever did an Indie horror movie situated in a 1970s redneckish bar in the middle of a corn field, waiting at the end of a dustry gravel road, well, this place would be it. The coffee even tasted like it was brewed in 1974, too. The waitress was nice, though. I asked her about the Halloween haunted house attraction mentioned on the sign. She told me it was in the basement. But she had to think about it first, like no one ever asks about it. Right, I thought to myself, where else would it be in a place like this.
Oh, right, getting back to my point. Gladly back on that long and winding road again, Max said to pull over and check out the big brown thing when we come to it again because he noticed this large daisy sticking out of it's head. It's a short few hundred feet on our left, the big thing and daisy, so I headed over the small bridge and pulled up on the opposite side of the road.
It wasn't a big, brown, chainsaw-sculted bear.
We're not quite sure what it might be. Here are the cell phone photos I took of it. Get off my back right now because I don't want to hear how dark these photos are, okay? I don't have an iPhone yet, so don't even go there.
I think it's a hairy devil holding a mailbox. It's made out of sheet metal. It's eyes are sort of non-committal and it's face forlorn, but I'm still thinking it's a devil. Holding a mailbox. Freudian analysis would take too long and I don't have the time for it, but I'll just snicker and point a finger at the position of the mailbox, and leave it up to you to figure it out.
Maybe Max and me should have checked out who'd weld sheet metal together into the shape of a lumbering devil standing about 10 feet tall, with a large daisy stuck in its head, all just to hold a mailbox. But times there are, when weird stuff like this, found on a long and winding side road in PA, should stay mysterious.