Bear News Beartown News

DECEMBER 1, 2000


at the Beartown Lumber Yard
by our Cub Reporter


1. Go buy a turkey
2. Take a drink of Scotch or JD
3. Put turkey in the oven
4. Take another 2 drinks of whiskey
5. Set the degree at 375 ovens
6. Take 3 more whiskeys of drink
7. Turn the oven on
8. Take 4 whisks of drinky
9. Turk the bastey
10. Whiskey another bottle of get
11. Stick a turkey in the thermometer
12. Glass yourself a pour of whiskey
13. Bake the whiskey for 4 hours
14. Take the oven out of the turkey
15. Take the oven out of the turkey
16. Floor the turkey up off of the pick
17. Turk the carvey
18. Get yourself another scottle of botch
19. Tet the sable and pour yourself a glass of turkey
20. Bless the saying, pass and eat out



Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Christmas. I'm telling you in advance, so don't act surprised. Since Ms. Stewart won't be coming, I've made a few small changes:
Our sidewalk will not be lined with homemade, paper bag luminaries. After a trial run, it was decided that no matter how cleverly done, rows of flaming lunch sacks do not have the desired welcoming effect.
The dining table will not be covered with expensive linens, fancy china or crystal goblets. If possible, we will use dishes that match and everyone will get a fork. Since this IS Christmas, we will refrain from using the plastic Peter Rabbit plate and the napkins from last Easter.
Our centerpiece will not be the tower of fresh fruit and flowers that I promised. Instead we will be displaying a hedgehog-like decoration hand-crafted from the finest construction paper. The artist assures me it is a turkey.
We will be dining fashionably late. The children will entertain you while you wait. I'm sure they will be happy to share every choice comment I have made regarding Christmas, baby Jesus and the turkey hotline. Please remember that most of these comments were made at 5:00 AM upon discovering that the turkey was still hard enough to cut diamonds. As accompaniment to the children's recital, I will play a recording of tribal drumming. If the children should mention that I don't own a recording of tribal drumming, or that tribal drumming sounds suspiciously like a frozeen turkey in a clothes dryer, ignore them. They are lying.
We toyed with the idea of ringing a dainty silver bell to announce the start of our feast. In the end, we chose to keep our traditional method. We've also decided against a formal seating arrangement. When the smoke alarm sounds, please gather around the table and sit where you like. In the spirt of harmony, we will ask the children to sit at a seperate table. In a seperate room. Next door.
Now I know you have all seen pictures of one person carving a turkey in front of a crowd of appreciative onlookers. This will not be happening at our dinner. For safety reasons, the tuirkey will be carved in a private ceremony. I stress "private" meaning: Do not, under any circumstances, enter the kitchen to laugh at me. Do not send small, unsuspecting children to check on my progress. I have an electric knife. The turkey is unarmed. It stands to reason that I will eventually win. When I do, we will eat.
Before I forget, there is one last change. Instead of offering a choice between 12 different scrumptious desserts, we will be serving the tradiditional pumpkin pie, garnished with whipped cream and small fingerprints. You will still have a choice: take it or leave it.
Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Christmas. She probably won't come next year either.
I am thankful.


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