Around the world, there are tales of a creature that walks like a human but shows none of the traits that define human civilization. Nor, indeed, do they show the pragmatic sensibilities of the beasts of the mountains and forests, who take only as they need. Instead, they are trapped between the two, somehow lesser than either and shunned by both.
Nepal has the Yeti. The Pacific Northwest has the Sasquatch. In Australia, the Kuku Yalanji people who resided in the protective shadows cast by the peak of Manjal Dimbi told European settlers of the Yowie, with its bulbous belly and giant canines. And if you find yourself traversing the remote Altai Mountains of Mongolia, then pay heed as the Oirat tribes whisper low of the Almas, with its black fur and sharp claws and face too like a man to be confused with a bear.
In Texas, sightings of such hominid cryptids have been restricted to the occasional report of a Skunk Ape, far from their normal habitat of the Florida Panhandle. Some old-timers say that they have set up a colony in the Big Thicket, away from the prying eyes of their clothes-wearing relatives.
And who can blame them? Humans have spent centuries hunting down all the animals of the wild places, but especially those closest to themselves.
Hominid cryptids, by contrast, have kept themselves to themselves. Most seem to be herbivores, but even the carnivores among them only seem to hunt for food. But recently, a new and more violent subspecies has been sighted across America, eschewing the normal remote places for cities and towns, worksites and apartment complexes. It is the Abolishable Snowman**, a brutish creature that has been seen to snatch away residents with no mercy and no discernment. (**Please note: The Abolishable Snowman is not to be confused with the Abominable Snowman, which has never done people harm, nor with the Minnesota Iceman, one of America’s greatest sideshow attractions, which is currently on display at Austin’s own Museum of the Weird and is safely entombed in a block of ice.)
Such beasts have been reported before, but their traditional habitats have been restricted to the nation’s border areas. Now they have expanded their numbers and their hunting grounds across the whole country.
To mark the unwanted arrival of this invasive species in our community, The Austin Chronicle has printed this year’s Halloween cover, both as our traditional scary mask and as a spotter’s guide of sorts, so you can recognize these unwanted intruders. If you have the urge to experience what it means to be a savage interloper, stealing people from their families and leaving communities in terror, follow this step-by-step guide to getting behind the mask.
1) Pick up a physical copy of the issue. The preferred method is to just run into a store with a half dozen of your friends, unannounced, grab the first copy you see, and throw it in the back of your rental car, then hurtle, brakes screeching, out of the parking lot. Alternatively, just push a random stranger to the ground and see if they have a copy. If anyone gets in your way, or looks sideways at you, or even holds the door for you, well, don’t forget that human law only applies to humans. And if you’ve picked up the wrong issue, don’t worry. Just run back in and grab as many as you need until you get the one you were hunting for. You can always just dump the other ones by the side of the road, or just leave them in the trunk until you feel like throwing them out somewhere. You can even ship them to a random stranger, if you like.
2) You can stop there. After all, process – whether it’s following mask instructions or following the letter of the law – is really not the Abolishable Snowman’s concern.
3) Cut out the mask. Use the same scissors you use to shred court rulings and constitutionally protected rights.
4) Cut out the eye holes. But not too much. If you see a person, it’s best not to be able to recognize them, or be able to read any documentation or proof of citizenship. The color of their skin is enough. Better yet, just leave the eyeholes as they are, and listen to see if they sound like a foreigner.
5) Secure the mask to your face. That’s the easy bit. You’ve got plenty of zip ties with you. Just make sure that you don’t pull them too tight. You don’t want to cut off the blood supply, do you?
6) Repeat for all your friends. After all, if they can’t tell you apart, who can say that you were the one who snatched too much candy, or stole the whole bowl, or kidnapped grandma, took a crowbar to the neighbor’s porch swing, Maced a bunch of passing preschool trick-or-treaters, and ran over the family dog as you left the scene?
Now you’re free to terrorize any neighborhood with impunity, but there’s one last step we hope you’ll Readerfollow.
7) Store the mask away for future generations to see and learn from. Because, if we’re lucky, the Abolishable Snowman will become nothing more than an ill-remembered myth designed to scare small children, or, at least, future administrations will find a way to push the Abolishable Snowman back to its traditional grounds, and establish a peaceful coexistence. And maybe then they’ll be forced to take the mask off.
About The Austin Chronicle’s Halloween Mask Tradition
Every year since 1982, The Austin Chronicle’s second year in print, we’ve printed a scary mask on our cover and included instructions on how to assemble it. While the early years were apolitical, the mask has since morphed into a political statement about the most horrifying real figures among us. This year’s “honoree,” the frequently masked ICE agents disappearing our neighbors and bringing chaos and bloodshed to our communities, joins past Halloween masks like Count Muskula (“Elon Sucks”), The Night King Greg Abbott, the Elm Street-inspired Ted-dy Cruz-er, and the Trumpkin.
This article appears in October 30 • 2026.