Concerning the Great Meat Contest
The noble challenge I issued in the last edition of the Trappers' Partner (soon to be re-christened Carnivores' Partner) has yet to be resolved. Many meats were sent in, and I have tasted them all. All were familiar to my keen palate.
Thus I offer, of my own fortune, an additional $200.00 in reward money. That brings the final prize to $1,200.00. No greater sum of currency has ever been offered as a reward by any man or institution in all the annals of history. I beg of thee: introduce me to a new meat, and allow me to grace you with a prize fit for a king.
Heaven Help Our Delirious Founder
P. B. Fouke, who remains useless at this present hour.I am pleased to reveal to you dear readers that your former hero P. B. Fouke--Cousin Philip to me--is out of his coma. He remains delirious and incomprehensible, which is a state not particularly foreign to him. As a result of his poor health, I have insisted his doctor and personal shaman, F. Gerald Thornton, provide him with hourly doses of laudanum. You may take comfort in the knowledge that Philip will not be returning to his former role in any foreseeable future.
I must also extend my thanks to the loyal M. J. Duddy, who remained tirelessly at Cousin Philip's side throughout the coma. As a result of his valiant efforts and the circulation problems that followed, Mr. Duddy lost his hand. As he is no longer capable of managing our shipping and receiving department as a cripple, I have terminated his employment.
State of the Company
It is my duty to report that the Fouke Meat Co.'s financial security has grown even worse than anticipated. This situation is squarely the fault of the previous administration, which routinely pursued fiscally irresponsible sales practices. This on top of the already absurd notion of buying fur, a commodity that is neither edible nor nutritious, from common people.
I fully expect this enterprise to weather the storm, and emerge from this turmoil stronger than ever. I can promise you that this Great Meat Foray will unlock unimagined riches, for you and I alike. There may yet still be pains as we transition out of the fur market, but all blame, and there is much to go around, should be directed toward Cousin Philip. He had ever opportunity to do things the right way, and failed on every occasion.
I say this to protect you, the loyal customers, from responsibility. Even though many of you played an integral role in bringing about this company's plights, it would be wrong of me to fault you for taking advantage of a crazed man obsessed with animal pelts. However, I must state: you are morally obligated to repay in full any and all discounts offered by Cousin Philip. Should it become necessary, I will seek out the services of Captain H. W. Grieves in the retrieval of this fortune. Be forewarned.
I must remind you to stop mailing us your furs. Meat is our business now, and meat is what you should send us. Please also clearly mark whether you are sending us meat you intend us to buy, or meat for my contest. As some previous packages were not clearly labeled, they may have been mistakenly eaten by myself.
With great pride & hunger for success,
Eugene Cranford Fouke,
Acting President & Gen. Mgr.
Fouke Meat Co.
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
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