It was a bright starry night in New York City. The glow of the buildings could be seen for miles around. The Statue of Liberty shone brightly against the black backdrop of the sky. The moon illuminated the Brooklyn Bridge and created a stunning silhouette in the waters of the East River below.

But in the shadows of the moonlight, the darkness thrived. A young woman making her way home from a late-night shift at one of the many Irish bars. She had been working double shifts since her husband's passing earlier that year. She missed him; she missed the warm touch of his hands, his glowing smile and the feel of his curly sandy hair. She remembers the passionate nights. He made even the dull ones, oh so special. As she walked through the illuminated streets, she passed the toy store. 

She paused for a moment and found herself staring into the window. She sighed to herself thinking of her child’s approaching birthday. She looked into her purse and tears began to roll down her face as she counted the loose change inside. Things would be different this year. 
She continued along her way crossing the streets and avoiding the yellow cabs as they carried their late night passengers home from a night of delights. Since it was a bright night she decided to take a shortcut home. The dark backstreets would be bright and safe, she assumed. After all, crime had been decreasing within the city since the arrival of the one who stalks the night. The one they started calling the Goatman. 

As she darted down the alleyway a street cat ran out from behind a trash can, she jumped slightly and her heart began to pound. She touched the hairs on her arm as they stood up. The night suddenly felt darker and air cooler. A chilling breeze ran down the alley. She quickened her pace. 

As she rounded another corner, she was suddenly grabbed by a gloved hand and dragged into a darkened doorway. She tried to scream but gloved hand covered her mouth and muffled any noise she made. As she was held a seconded masked figure appeared in front of her and began pulling at her bag. She held on tight and clutched it to her chest. She felt the warm whiskey soaked breath of her attacker on her neck. Tears streamed down her face. 

“Give me the damn bag. Give it to me.” growled her second attacker. As she kicked out at him, she suddenly felt the cold press of steel against her face. “Now, now, let's play nice and rethink that answer. We wouldn't want to hurt such a pretty girl.” 

As the man began to snatch her purse away from her, a whirring sound flew down the alley. Something struck the man in front of her. She watched as the man fell limply to the ground in front of her. Looking down she saw a boomerang laying next to the man. A goat's head adorned the center of the boomerang. Could it be? 

She was pushed to the side by the attacker and as she was flung into the wall she fell to the ground. Looking up into the moonlit sky, she noticed movement between the fire escapes above. A shadowy, nimble figure with horns moved gracefully between the highrises. 
“Come out here and show your face! Fight me like man you COWARD!”, called the attacker as he wildly swung his knife in all directions. Suddenly, another whirring noise and his knife was knocked to the floor out of his reach. The shadowy figure leaped down and landed face to face with the would-be assailant. 

He was draped in a dark cloak, and wore a mask on his face. Two large goat horns protruded from his head and his body was covered in a fur-like material. He was wielding a large staff in his hands, one end of the staff is a large solid goat's head and on the other a sharp goat horn. 
“Prepare to face the horns of justice!” He smirked and caused the attacker to fly into a rage. The attacker lunged at the Goatman. 

Our hero gracefully stepped to the side and used his mighty staff to land a crushing blow to the attacker’s arm, instantly shattering his wrist. The attacker screamed in agony and again lunged at the Goatman who once again easily dodged and landed a heavy strike to the attackers back knocking him to the floor. Seizing the opportunity the Goatman darted over to the attacker and landed a single knockout blow to the thug. 
“Now that's what I call a bleat down!” he quipped. 

He turned to face the woman who sat stunned, back to the wall and watching in disbelief at what had unfolded. The Goatman made his way slowly over to the woman and helped her to her feet. She smiled at him. 

“Thank you, Thank you so much” she said. 

“No problem, always happy to lend a hoof.” He nodded to her. “Go home now, I'm sure your herd is waiting.” 

With that the Goatman pranced off into the distance. The woman composed herself. Slipped out of the alley and cautiously made her way home to her kids.

Off in the distance the Goatman sat stoically looking out over the city, waiting and watching for ne'er-do-wells. His ears perk up once more, sirens in the distance. “My people need me.”   
 

The Goatman Saga: The Dark Shepherd's Secret

The night air was hot, the heat still dissipating from the harsh summer sun as the moon rose into a cloudless night sky. Even though it was night, the city was awake. Sirens could be heard in the distance, voices carried and echoed down narrow passages between large skyscrapers. Nighttime did not mean sleep, not for this city anyway. The Goatman had already been patrolling for several hours before he heard an interesting call come in on the police scanner. 

A silent alarm was triggered at a nearby bank, but responding officers reported that it was a false alarm and everything was clear. The voice on the radio seemed to have an edge of desperation, giving the Goatman reason for pause. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to rest without knowing the truth, the Goatman jumped from his perch and began traversing the city rooftops towards the location of the alarm. Using his goat-like speed and agility he easily sailed from rooftop to rooftop until he reached his destination. 

The Goatman took up a position across the street from the bank on a low rooftop. He reached into his specialty Goat-Fanny Pack and retrieved a pair of Goat-Binoculars. As he surveyed the bank, he immediately froze. Several police cars sat in front of the bank, doors ajar. The Goatman couldn’t believe his eyes. This was no false alarm, the bank was being robbed, and the police were the ones helping the villain do it! 

Goatman scanned the inside of the bank with his Goat-Binoculars looking for the mastermind behind such a devious theft. It was at that moment the doors of the bank were flung open. Stepping out was a menacing figure wearing what appeared to be traditional shepherd’s garb. His face was shrouded beneath a hood, hiding his features except for a piercing silvery eye that seemed to gleam in the moonlight. In one hand he was wielding a cane, adorned with twisting vines and his other hand remained hidden in the folds of his tunic. But perhaps the most unsettling was the haunting whistling melody that seemed to echo throughout the narrow street. The whistling sent shivers down the spine of the Goatman, and grated on his brain. “Gahh, what is this madness… It’s… mind control…” Goatman told himself. 

He only had a moment to act. Reaching into his Goat-Utility Belt, he opened a side pocket containing a small vial full of pocket fluff. He quickly emptied the vial into the palm of his hand and pushed the fluff deep into his ears blocking out the whistling. “Ahhhh, that’s better.” By the time the Goatman was back on his feet the mysterious villain was pointing to the police officers now loading bags of money into the back of a van. 

The Goatman sprung into action and leapt down the fire escape and onto the street in front of the bank. As he landed on the street he quickly moved to disarm the police officers. “No need to fear! Goatman is here!” 

The menacing figure pointed his cane at the Goatman. “I was wondering when the mighty Goatman would show up to try and thwart me. I see you’ve discovered a way to resist my mighty powers, but no matter. You will never be able to defeat me and my minions. I control this city now. Not you! The age of the Goatman has ended. Welcome to the Era of The Dark Shepherd!” The Dark Shepherd’s monologue continues on for several more minutes as he painstakingly describes everything that has gone wrong in his life to lead him to this point, his ambitions, and his entire reason for being. 

Unfortunately, due to the Goatman filling his ears entirely with fluff he was not able to hear any of the villain’s monologue. After a few awkward moments of Goatman and Dark Shepherd just looking at each other, Dark Shepherd let out a short, melodic whistle sending the four police officers under his control into rage swinging wildly at the Goatman. 

The Goatman quickly parried the attacks, but was forced back. Having to resort to ‘non-lethal’ style, the Goatman efficiently disarmed the police officers (at the shoulder), sending them to the pavement. The wily Dark Shepherd was able to escape in his unmarked van. As the van peeled off and left view the ominous whistling ceased releasing its hold on the minds of the police officers. 

The Goatman opened his Goat-First Aid kit and removed several goat themed bandages tossing them to the disarmed police officers. “A new nemesis has made himself known. I will not rest until he has been defeated and taken off the streets.” The Goatman ran off into the night to continue in search of evil!

Gigantopithecus sat enthralled, barely able to snap back to reality, he was so absorbed in this tale of heroism. Who was The Dark Shepherd? Was he connected to La Cosa Nostra? Was the Goatman friend or foe to the New York families?

Gigantopithecus pondered these questions, but his mind kept slipping back to one thing: Do Goat People wear pants?

The answer to this question would determine how closely Gigantopithecus wanted to get involved...