In one of those rare moments of clarity when the façade of years of friendship and camaraderie gets ripped away and the emptiness of the average human relationship becomes laid bare for all to see and recoil from, an area ex-friend, Bertha Belcher, age 34, a local farm wife, (who wasn't, in fact, officially invited for obvious reasons!) committed the ultimate social faux pas when she showed up (half 'in the bag', no doubt!) at the home of a certain Erika of Century West Engineering fame bearing a culturally insensitive gift which caused a social tsunami the likes of which has not been seen in the Palouse since Elmer Festoon brought German sausage and sour kraut to that WWII Veterans celebration back in 1982. (that was the last one of those ever held in these parts, for crying out loud! And not because we were running out of Nazi-spanking veterans, either!) The ever-gracious Erika, known across the region for her cutting edge 'parrot rescue' program, was reported by insiders to have greeted the artery-clogging gift with open-mouthed incredulity as the bucket of 'yard bird' was un-ceremoniously (some would say quite rudely!) thrust into her open arms as Bertha pushed past her in a frantic dash to find the restroom after spending almost 45 minutes in the car (And Lord knows that Lamont doesn't have a doggone public restroom yet, for crying out loud!). "Well, I just so happened to be milling around the front door, waiting to see if someone brought a dessert besides that stupid watermelon when the whole dern thing just unraveled right in front of me!" said Gomer Festoon, 53, an area rancher. "I could not hear what was actually said between the two now-hostile parties because those doggone parrots were singing the theme to "Gilligan's Island", but I could tell by Erika's suddenly stiff posture and icy sideways glance as Bertha lunged past her that something of import had just occurred. Sadly, right about that time Erma Blatt brought over what was supposed to pass for brownies, I guess, (Who could tell? Whoa!!) so I followed her into the kitchen to help get them organized - and thus I missed the best part of the altercation!' said the notorious sweet-tooth and unrepentant mooch who loves nothing more than a good 'chick fight!'As Erika, ever the gracious host and stalwart patriot, proceeded to transport the contraband chow into the kitchen where she could keep an eye on it and see who, if anyone, would partake in the sacrilegious fare, but unfortunately, in order to do this, she had to walk right past the gleefully singing parrots. "Oh, one minute I was caught up in the 'spirit of the fearless crew' and the next thing I knew there was nothing but crushing silence as that doggone chicken made its way to the far kitchen counter - like some dadburn gloomy funeral procession or whatever" said Elma Bodine, age 46. "It was like someone abruptly hit the 'mute button' or something! Those parrots were as stunned as the rest of us! Oh, it was horrible... Then they all started shrieking 'Murderer, murderer, murderer, murderer! over and over (In unison!) until that hellish cacophony thrust me right to the very brink of madness itself! (Not that that would be a very long trip! Let's be honest here!) Talk about a party killer! And on our nation's birthday, too!" she said with her usual knack for stating the obvious! "So, I can't really blame Erika for getting her nose out of joint over the whole dern mess. People just need to be more sensitive, that's all!" she said soothingly. "And this is cattle country! Who but a crazed lunatic would even consider bringing chicken, for crying out loud?" she fumed, bringing forth a darn good point!
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