Bigfoot lives simply. He roams the forest, munches on roots and berries, and naps among the ferns. He spends his days in peace and solitude. Except when humans cross his path. Humans make Bigfoot angry. No matter how many of them he chases away, beats to a pulp, or kills, more always come, tramping intrusively through his forested territory. Yes, Bigfoot hates those pesky humans...except for the females, that is. Nothing gets Bigfoot more hot and bothered than the scent of woman. Bigfoot loves the ladies, and after he grabs them and gives his gift of Red Hot Sasquatch Love, the ladies love Bigfoot. In fact, once they've had a taste of his goods, nothing else will do and they want more, much much more. But Bigfoot doesn't want any woman keeping him company. He's a hit-and-run lover, and enjoys quiet time spent alone, masturbating and sniffing his fingers. Bored waitress Darcy (Clover Lutter) has had one unforgettable encounter with Bigfoot and, naturally, she wants seconds. Night and day she combs the woods, calling Bigfoot's name and reciting love poetry -- poetry so horrible that Bigfoot flees, howling and clutching his ears in pain. Meanwhile, Darcy's rock-stupid husband Bill (Chris Henry) has discovered a pair of her dirty panties, matted with hair and leaves: incriminating evidence of her cryptozoic fling. Enraged, Bill and redneck buddy Skeeter (Trevor Guthrie) plunge into the woods with liquor, loaded guns, and a hefty bag of bloody tampon bigfoot-bait. Will Bill bag the bigfoot that fucked his woman? Will Darcy find the sweet, primate love she desires before it's too late? Find out, in the movie that Joe Bob Briggs calls "the finest Bigfoot rape-revenge flick ever made by people with WAY too much time on their hands."