This article is part of the Fur Trapper Saga series.
P. B. Fouke, President & General Manager, Sacred Instrument of GodConcerning My Return to the Fur Business
Good news loyal trappers and shippers: your faithful commander is back at the helm! As you are probably well aware from prior issues of this publication, I WAS IN A COMATOSE STATE FOR SOME MONTHS, teetering precariously between life and death. I am pleased to report that those days are behind me!
Many of you will no doubt look upon my recent ailments as a major setback for both this company and the very act of trapping and skinning animals. TO YOU I OFFER THIS HEARTY REBUKE: NOT SO! I assure you that in the coming days, months and years, we will more than make up for any lost time in ways you can't even begin to imagine!
Having served diligently as commander of this fine enterprise for so long, I missed out on a great deal of rest. And rest, my friends, is what prepares us for the arrival of a new day. I stand before you prepared now more than ever to face the incredible challenges to come! I am as healthy as I have ever been, sound in mind, hardy in body, enlivened in spirit and rich in beard. Oh, how rich in beard I am! NEVER BEFORE HAVE I BEEN SO GLORIOUSLY BEARDED.
As you are also no doubt aware, my egregious cousin Eugene was placed in charge during my absence. This, unfortunately, proved to be a most colossal blunder. I would most assuredly offer each and every one of you an apology for this mishap, but you know that I, a man of integrity, need not apologize. The good service I have rendered you in the past and will render you again in the future will more than make up for any mistakes.
In fact, my first act of business upon waking up was seeing to the immediate dismissal of Eugene as acting President & General Manager. He and his personal meat collection were promptly loaded inside wooden crates, which were sealed and placed on railcar. The Fouke Meat Company scheme is now wholly dissolved, and OUR BUSINESS IMPERATIVE IS ONCE AGAIN THE PURCHASE OF FUR AND THE SALE OF ITEMS ESSENTIAL TO ACQUIRING FUR. There will be no more meat accepted, and no more exotic meat contests.
Eugene was incorrect when he started that our financial situation was dire. Eugene, as always, underestimated my steadfast relationship with the countless banking institutions of this region. The fine men who run these great pillars of capital know well of my integrity. These men know me by name, are well acquainted with the warm feeling of my handshake, and fully comprehend the awesome commitment it signifies. These men will not hesitate to back this enterprise with whatever funds it may need. Thus, we will continue to offer you fine goods at PRICES THAT PAY YOU THE HIGHEST COMPLIMENT.
Even still, there is no room for horseplay in this enterprise. The foolish contests and antics Eugene found so rewarding are no longer a part of this outfit. I assure you that THE FOUKE FUR COMPANY IS COMMITTED NOW MORE THAN EVER TO MAINTAINING THE HIGHEST STANDARDS OF BUSINESS PROFESSIONALISM.
After years of being misunderstood, I had hoped we finally had "our" story. I was wrong.
He had a yellow inflatable tube around his waist, the kind with a comical duck head. There was a tiny fish in one of his hands, and a trident in the other. In the background a squirrel wearing shades was water skiing.
For fans of meaningless awards, these awards are extra meaningless.
The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.
The esteemed P. B. Fouke, villainous J. F. Swanton and technocratic blowhard A. P. Brown battle for fur market supremacy in this series of old-timey dispatches.