The Abominable Snowman is Just a Guy in a Suit Who Lost a Bet
"I've been stuck on this mountain for 40 years," he laments.
KATHMANDU, NEPAL – In a shocking revelation that has rocked the cryptozoology world to its core, the legendary Abominable Snowman of the Himalayas has been revealed to be nothing more than a middle-aged insurance salesman from Toledo, Ohio, who lost the bet of a lifetime four decades ago.
Harold “Hank” Morrison, 67, emerged from his icy prison last week after a team of extreme mountain climbers accidentally stumbled upon his makeshift cave dwelling at 18,000 feet above sea level. What they found defied all logic and scientific understanding of one of the world’s most enduring mysteries.
“I’ve been stuck on this mountain for 40 years,” Morrison lamented through chattering teeth, his massive yeti costume now threadbare and patched with yak fur he’d collected over the decades. “It all started with a poker game that got way out of hand.”
According to Morrison’s incredible account, the fateful wager took place in 1984 during his company’s annual retreat in Las Vegas. After a particularly brutal losing streak, Morrison found himself owing his colleagues an astronomical sum he couldn’t possibly repay. In desperation, he agreed to an alternative punishment that seemed harmless at the time: spend one month dressed as the Abominable Snowman in the Himalayas.
“We thought it would be hilarious,” Morrison explained, his voice barely audible through the frost-covered gorilla mask he’s worn for four decades. “Just a quick trip, take some funny photos, come home with a great story. Nobody counted on the avalanche that buried our base camp and killed my ride home.”
The conspiracy runs deeper than anyone imagined. Morrison’s story has sent shockwaves through government agencies worldwide, as it appears multiple national security organizations have been aware of his presence for years but chose to maintain the cover-up to preserve the tourist industry surrounding yeti expeditions.
Dr. Samantha Blackwood, a leading cryptozoologist at the Institute for Mysterious Phenomena, expressed her devastation upon learning the truth. “Forty years of my career down the drain,” she said, visibly shaking as she examined Morrison’s well-worn costume. “The hair samples, the footprint casts, the blurry photographs – it was all just Hank in a $29.99 Halloween outfit from Woolworth’s.”
Perhaps most disturbing is Morrison’s revelation that he’s not alone up there. According to his testimony, at least six other “cryptids” roaming the world’s remote regions are actually people trapped by similar circumstances. He claims to have maintained radio contact with “Bigfoot” in the Pacific Northwest, who is allegedly a former circus performer named Eddie Kowalski stuck living out a children’s birthday party contract gone horribly wrong.
The implications are staggering. Government documents obtained through anonymous sources suggest that agencies have been secretly dropping food supplies and winter gear to Morrison for decades, all while publicly denying the existence of the creature he was impersonating. The cover-up involves estimated costs exceeding $12 million in taxpayer money spent on “yeti research grants” that were actually humanitarian aid missions.
Morrison’s story takes an even more bizarre turn when he describes his daily routine of terrorizing mountain climbers and expedition teams. “I had to keep up the act,” he insisted. “Every time someone got close to discovering the truth, I’d jump out, roar real loud, and run away. I became pretty good at it after a while. The dramatic arm-waving was always a crowd-pleaser.”
Local Sherpa guides have now admitted they’ve known Morrison’s true identity for years, with many bringing him hot tea and warm blankets during the harshest winter months. “We felt sorry for the strange American man,” explained guide Pemba Tenzin. “His poker face was terrible, but his yeti impression was surprisingly authentic.”
Morrison is now seeking legal counsel to pursue damages against his former colleagues for what he calls “the world’s longest practical joke.”
The characters and events depicted in this story are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or to actual events is unintentional and purely coincidental.
