More ugly birthday savagery, but this time one of the weatherfriends was the victim. Drunk, delirious the friend was having a good time-until being spotted by the Sasquatch.

It hung in a cage near the ceiling, its meaty paws wrapped around a pole, violently swinging and gyrating. When it busted out the true horror was revealed. This thing could dance. It grinded, it slobbered. Uglies were bumped and saliva exchanged.

On this weatherfriend’s birthday, the truth was stranger than fiction.

Tuesday’s forecast: A groggy 21st, and marriage troubles.