Killing of Serial-Killing Cat Explained

NEWS RELEASE (To be released April 1)

State and federal authorities in Montana have disclosed new information on the 2019 Christmas Eve killing of a marauding mountain lion in the Custer National Forest south of Miles City.

Three cowboys who were celebrating that night have come forward with eyewitness testimony. The men, identified as Jim Beam, Jack Daniels, and Wild Turkey, said they observed an object flying low and slow in the night sky just before midnight. As the craft neared, they realized it was not a UFO or a UAP but a UFS, an Unidentified Flying Sled.

“It was being pulled by flying deer,” Daniels said. “And one of them had a nose redder than mine.”

Suddenly, according to the cowboys, a tawny streak lept from the heights of a Ponderosa Pine, grabbed the red-nosed leader, and pulled the entire craft to the snow-covered ground. An alien aboard the vehicle, described as obese and elderly, hobbled to safety while the lion consumed the lead deer and killed the others for sport.

“The old fat guy was near us,” Daniels explained. “We could hear him jabbering on his cell phone.”

Cell phone records indicate that Warren Johnson of Jardine, Montana, was called from that location that night. Johnson initially denied being the recipient but has since confirmed that he received an urgent call from a former client, Nick Klaus.

Agents from the ATF, DEA, and AQHA have pieced together an almost unbelievable story. Johnson, a legendary outfitter, was known to keep a pet Grizzly, who he called Hannibal.

“Warren went to the cave where Hannibal was hibernating,” admits Johnson’s wife, Susan. “But try as he might, he could not awaken the sleeping bruin. That’s when he got the idea to call Wylie.”

Wylie was Wylie Gustafson, a cowboy yodeler and band leader who was performing in the area. Gustafson entered the cave and let out a Yahoo of a yodel that stirred the beast from its sleep.

Johnson quickly slipped a snaffle bit into the bear’s mouth, climbed aboard, and steered Hannibal to the closest high mountain. Seeing a range of Rockies before him, Johnson dug a starburst rowel into the bear’s ribs. Hannibal let out a roar that flattened the vista, and the two were off to rescue Mr. Klaus.

“It was the dangest thing I ever seen,” said Beam. “Out of nowhere came this cowboy riding a bear and all he had in its mouth was a snaffle. I sure as heck would have been using a spade.”

As the two approached, the big cat looked up from its killing field and roared.

The bear roared back.

“It was quite the tussle,” said Wild Turkey. “But I don’t think it was fair. It was a cowboy and a bear against a cat. That’s two against one.”

The lion eventually succumbed.

“Then the fat alien came out of the trees where he’d been hiding,” said Daniels. “I heard him tell the cowboy he had one last stop to deliver packages.”

“He was some sort of UPS guy, I guess,” Wild Turkey added.

It turned out that the last stop was the Montana State Prison at Deer Lodge, where a few nice guys were found among the naughty.

“The fat guy told the cowboy that if they could hitch the bear to the sled, he could make the bear fly,” Wild Turkey explained. “About then, I decided that celebrating was likely bad for my health, and I swore off.”

According to the three celebrants, the bear was hitched, and Klaus and Johnson flew into the twinkling stars.

Shocked into soberness, Beam, Daniels, and Turkey stood in silence until sunrise when they were surprised by a lone figure arriving on foot from the north.

“I knew who it was right away,” said Turkey. “It was that cowboy cartoonist who grew up over the ridge on Otter Creek.”

“Earl,” Beam said.

“No,” Turkey countered. “Earl is the character he draws. His name is Walter.”

“Not Walter. Wally.”

“Whatever. Anyway, he told us he’d been given a group of nuns a tour of rural outhouses when he got separated and lost.”

The Poor Sisters of Illiteracy,” Jackson explained. “And Wally got lost in his own backyard.”

Seeing the deceased cat, the cartoonist saw an opportunity. Between the four men, there was one working cell phone.

“Wally laid down with the cat, and I snapped the picture,” Turkey said. “Then he got up and walked away. I was hoping to be in a cartoon someday, but I ain’t seen nuthin’ yet.”

Agents explained the photo did eventually appear on social media, where it was assumed the cartoonist had strangled the killer cat with his bare hands.

“He was considered quite the hero,” said a spokesman for the DEA. “Of course, PETA put a price on his head so he’s had to lay low.”

The mountains at night can spawn legends, myths, and malarky, and the fables and tales about the cartoonist who saved Christmas have grown with each passing year.

Now, most of the questions have been answered, but not all of them.

“What I want to know,” said Turkey. “Is whatever happened to the nuns?”