You know, I've always wanted to visit a national park sometime, but I didn't think it'd be under these circumstances. Here I thought I'd be taking my time, enjoying the sights of Yellowstone National Park, maybe seeing Old Faithful and all the other geysers, but nope, instead, I'm going off the path and trekking through the deep forests alongside my hippie pothead friend on the search for some weird creature I'd never even heard of before he brought it up recently. "So, like, what was that thing we're looking for called again?" I ask him.

"The Wichita Weevil, man. A real crazy thing. A miracle of Mother Nature, and kept down by The Man. They don't want you to know about it, but we're gonna blow it wide open today, I'm tellin' ya," he explains, further blazing a path of his own through the trees. Wichita Weevil, right. Now I remember that one bar night when I first brought up my interest in cryptids to him. The way his eyes lit up is still etched in my mind to this day. Normally, he's a real mellow, soft kinda guy that doesn't get excited for a lot, but that got his attention. After that, it didn't take long until he started pestering me with wanting to head to Yellowstone to try and find this thing. Now, one might think that in searching for the Wichita Weevil, one would start somewhere around Wichita, which is in Kansas, and not Yellowstone, largely in Wyoming. But apparently, according to Rayne, that was part of The Man's attempts to cover this up, specifically naming that city to throw people off, which is an interesting theory I insisted he not elaborate on.

After about an hour of very firmly going off the trail and heading out to God knows where, I can't help but wonder what the plan here is. "What exactly are we going to do to find this weevil?" I ask, preparing myself for something strange.

And something strange is indeed what I get, as Rayne stops, takes off his backpack, then takes off his shirt, stuffing it into the backpack. "Well, see, The Man had it all figured out. They suppressed free love, knowing full well that the Weevil is attracted by homoerotic displays. They made it taboo to be queer, but that's exactly what we need to do. So c'mon, man, get your shirt off too! Two shirtless boys walkin' around in nature, bein' free, that's what it's all about!" he tells me with great enthusiasm before just looking at me expectantly. Well, I've come this far, so there's no reason not to go along, right? So, like it's nothing, I follow suit, pulling my shirt off and depositing it in my own backpack. It feels odd, but somehow liberating, too. Rayne gives me a sweet smile afterwards. "Yeah, that's it! I'm tellin' ya, we're gonna find it in no time like this."

So we continue walking through the vast forest of Yellowstone, completely away from any sort of organized path, just totally on our own, which is probably for the better, given that we're now two shirtless dudes just walking around with no aim. Who knows what people'd think of us. However, despite continuing our search for quite some time, no sign of the Weevil. Not that I'm convinced the Weevil is real in the first place, either. "You sure this is how it works?" I ask him.

There's a ponderous expression on his face. "Hm... I guess we just gotta get gayer."

"...What?" is all I can respond.

"C'mon, I told ya how this works! We gotta attract the Weevil with displays of homoerotic energy. So if taking off our shirts didn't work, we gotta keep going. How about we kiss?" he tells me, like it's the most obvious explanation in the world.

It does make sense, but still, this is a big leap! "W-We can't do that! We can't just kiss... we're not gay!" I protest.

With a gentle grin plastered across his face, Rayne steps closer to me. "Ya ain't gotta be gay, man... ya just gotta act gay! Free love, man, free love... it's easy. Lemme take the lead, alright? I got this all figured out..." he says, getting even closer.