Skinwalkers are pussies

Skinwalkers are pussies, and I could knock one out.

For the uninitiated, a skinwalker is a major part of Native American (Navajo in particular) culture. You’ll find a ton of different definitions, but the gist of it is they’re tribal shamans who have given their soul to evil in exchange for a bunch of powers, most notably the ability to turn into an animal by wearing their pelt. So basically, overpowered furries.

If you ask the people on tribal lands about skinwalkers, most of them are extremely reluctant to talk about them. Many people are even fearful of saying the word “skinwalker”. Go to the subreddit for skinwalkers, it’s fucking crazy, so many people spell it out like “s-k-n-w-l-k-r”. Allegedly this stigma is because talking about them will attract them. Unlike Beetlejuice, you only have to say their name once and they’ll come snooping around in some form.

Skinwalkers. Skinwalkers. Skinwalkers!

I’ve been trying unsuccessfully for like two weeks now to attract one of these creatures to my apartment in the urban jungle of Philadelphia. I have a couple of theories as to why one hasn’t shown up yet. The first is that there are no skinwalkers in my area, so one has to now hoof it all the way from Arizona or New Mexico to face me because it heard that I was talking shit and didn’t think that it would hear it. The second is that skinwalkers are actually huge fucking pussies, and they won’t fuck with someone who’s not a superstitious coward. I’m not even considering the possibility that they don’t exist, I WANT them to exist. Why, you ask? Simple, I want to fight one. 

As you saw from my last article, I’m pretty fucking bored with life. Most of my friends are broke, my girlfriend watches too much TV, this city has nothing to do. What better use of my time than to fistfight one of these so-called tough guys of Native American lore?

I guarantee that if a skinwalker showed up at my house, I’d two-piece the fuck out of it like Mike Tyson. That furfag son of a bitch wouldn’t even see me coming. Everything I’ve read on the internet about skinwalkers is a fucking joke, and most of it seems like it was written by cowards. Most people either run in fear or they try and shoot it. Fuck both of those choices, I ain’t running from some scrawny shitbag, and I don’t believe in using a gun to 1v1 someone who’s unarmed. If I saw a skinwalker, I’d walk towards it like Gus in that scene from Breaking Bad where the cartel sniper is taking potshots at Gus’s men. If it didn’t puss out and run away (doubtful), I’d jaw the fucking shit out of it.

A common thing skinwalkers do is fuck with people psychologically. They’ll do shit like hang outside your house (they can’t come in unless you let them in; they’re literally so fucking stupid that they can’t figure out doors or windows) and make noise by banging on stuff, emitting strange smells, and screeching. None of these mean anything to me. The guy above me blasts his TV all the time and smokes pot, which comes down through my vents. His roommate’s 3 year old daughter runs back and forth for hours on end. You really think banging on shit, screeching, and stinking up my place is going to bother me? Fuck no, I’m used to it. That shit only works on country bumpkins who aren’t used to living with noise.

When they’re not screeching like autistic idiots, they’re attempting to mimic stuff they heard humans say. They even suck at this too, no human has ever actually been fooled by this. Apparently their voice is comparable to one of those cat videos you’d see years ago back when America’s Funniest Home Videos was actually somewhat entertaining (Bob Saget was the best host), the ones where the cat would sound like it was talking like a human. Again, skinwalkers confirmed for retarded as fuck. They’re supposed to be humans who committed some depraved or evil act to get super animal powers, how did they forget to speak at least somewhat human-like? Does the process for becoming a skinwalker involve beating yourself in the head with a hammer until you’re mentally retarded?

They can also run very fast too, despite having to walk on all fours most of the time. I read a story about a cop who encountered a skinwalker and, demonstrating the integrity, bravery, and heroism that comes with his badge, hopped into his cruiser and attempted to flee. The cop was allegedly doing highway speeds of 60+MPH, and the skinwalker was able to keep pace with his car. This is stupid, and I would have handled this situation much differently. Putting aside the fact that I wouldn’t have pussed out and tried to drive away, if I was doing over 60 and a skinwalker was keeping pace with me on foot at that speed I’d have simply slammed my brakes. I guarantee that a car could go from 60 to 0 way quicker than a living organism running. I’d have slammed my brakes, then let the skinwalker blow past me trying to stop himself. Then when the skinwalker was ahead of me I’d gun my engine and slam right into the fucker. A Crown Victoria (the most common police car in America) could hit 60 MPH in about 11 seconds, so I’d be slamming into that glorified furfag at at least 30 MPH by the time it was able to stop running. Bonus points if it decided to run at me at a similar speed. E=MC² bitch, my energy is greater because my mass is greater. There’s no way a skinwalker is going to tank a blow from a 2 ton object travelling at 30 MPH, superhuman durability or not. That motherfucker is gonna go flying and break every bone in its body.

Being a good runner doesn’t mean shit when your prey isn’t running from you. Which I’ve already established, I wouldn’t run from a skinwalker.

I’ve already highlighted some reasons why skinwalkers are incredibly fucking stupid, but here’s a good one I read about. One time a skinwalker posed as a junkie (because the only way in hell anyone’s actually going to fall for their half-assed act is if a drug addict chalks it up to another drug addict exhibiting typical drug addict behavior) and infiltrated a group of junkies shooting up in the woods. One of the junkies convinced the skinwalker to shoot up some heroin. The skinwalker OD’ed and died within minutes. Idiot.

So skinwalkers can’t figure out doors or windows, they can’t properly imitate their prey, and they’re stupid enough to shoot heroin. The only things they seem to have going for them are some extra strength and speed, looking scary, and a whole lot of hype from a race of people who are historically superstitious. Seriously, that’s a skinwalker’s biggest strength: Being over-hyped by the Navajo. Being that I’m not Navajo, I don’t give two fucks about how dangerous a skinwalker allegedly is. If one of those jabronis showed up right now I’d slam its bony ass through my cheap second-hand Ikea coffee table then send the body off to be dissected by scientists.

Since I know one will probably never actually show up because they’d rather fuck with cowards and superstitious Native Americans, here’s how I envision a fight between me and a skinwalker going.

I’m chilling out in my living room watching reruns of Venture Bros when I hear a scratching noise outside my house. Chalking it up to the neighborhood kids being the retarded morons they are, I ignore it and continue watching Venture Bros. Suddenly, I hear a tap on the window, followed by some banging on my grill. Prepared to yell at some hooligans, I get up and go to the window. I see nothing. Mildly annoyed, I sit back down and resume watching Venture Bros. A moment later, I hear what sounds like a cat autistically screeching. Assuming it’s the cat that’s been pissing on my air conditioner and grill cover, I go outside and prepare to chase it away. I find nothing, but something smells like rancid rotten ass. Figuring someone nearby is smoking cheap crappy weed, I sigh, loudly say “Fuck off faggots”, then go back inside.

I shut the door, then before I can sit down I hear someone banging on it. A raspy screechy voice says “Fuck off faggots”. I grab my Kabar and open the door, with every intent to scare some kid shitless. Instead, I’m greeted by some scrawny abomination. At first taken by surprise, I immediately realize that this is a skinwalker answering my challenge. Laughing, I cast my Kabar aside and stare it directly in the eyes. As it struggles with the glass storm door by throwing itself into it repeatedly, I boastfully hold up my middle finger and continue to laugh at it. Finally, I get tired of watching, and as it makes another attempt to leap into the door, I slam it open, striking the skinwalker in the face. I step outside, crack my knuckles, and say “Welcome to the jungle!” The skinwalker gets up, and in its raspy screechy voice says “Fuck off faggots” again. “Bitch, say what?” I reply. As the skinwalker runs towards me, I instinctively lean in with a sharp right cross, striking the skinwalker and KOing it instantly. I look to the heavens and scream “WAN PUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNCH!” Feeling kind of ripped off that I only got to punch the bastard once, I pick it up and carry it inside.

As I enter my living room, I yell “WELCOME TO SUPLEX CITY BITCH”, then deliver a Brock Lesnar-style suplex right through my coffee table. I then take my balls out and dip them repeatedly into the skinwalker’s unconscious mouth, being sure to say “No homo” as I do it. I then bust out a Sharpie, draw a Hitler mustache and some dongs on its face, then fuck off to play Titanfall or Overwatch. I come back later to find that I punched the skinwalker so hard that whatever evil force that was the source of its powers fucked right off in fear, and the skinwalker has reverted back to its human form. I then call the police and tell them some creepy old Native American guy broke into my house and tried to touch my dick. The Native American guy is hauled off to jail, and gets shanked in prison for being bitchmade.

You people seriously have no idea how fucking bored I am.