The area elf population, decidedly jittery at the best of times, had bees in their little bonnets when it was realized that the annual "Elk Hunting" season was right around the corner and that their founding elf fathers, in a fit of short-sighted madness, (Oh, hindsight is always so 20-20! And what about the town founding fathers and their bright idea to place the town of Lamont all the way out here? Where is their scorn and ridicule?) decided to develop their little elf colony in a region that, how might one say it, well, that can't spell worth a dern hoot and one that seems to be unnaturally disposed to firearms of any kind. (Heck, who needs a book when you can just as easily kill something for no dern reason whatsoever?) Although there is a shocking visual similarity between the seldom used but decidedly whimsical sounding word "elf" and the much more guttural sounding and grunt-like "elk", these two words, in fact, describe two very different critters, and let's face it, one of them tastes a whole lot better than the other and doesn't have to be all smothered with ketchup or A-1 sauce or whatever in order to force the mess down. (Although we did hear that soaking 'elf' in buttermilk over night helps cut down on some of the ranginess - although it doesn't do a darn thing for that whole 'stringy" problem. Plus, one gets a lot more poundage of meat per bullet with that word that ends with the letter "K")."Well, I drove into Lamont to see what the heck was going on and to cast decidedly disgusted looks at whoever was out and about at that particular time, and the whole dern town just seemed to be plastered with these cute little flyers somehow trying to draw a distinction between the letter 'F' and the letter 'K', for some dern reason!" said Dodo Festoon, an area farm wife and notorious busybody and snoot-bag. "Well, I was never very good with all that fancy book learning which is why I am dead set against Lamont getting that doggone new library with all them fancy words and all, but even I know the difference between a 'K' and an 'F'! (She should! Half the words out of her husband's mouth begin with one of them!!!) Oh yeah, and there was some little picture on the dern flyer that had this little guy in yellow tights with these cute little Spock-like ears waving his arms in panic or whatever with a drawing of a gun pointing at him with this big red circle with a line thru it or whatever, but who can ever figure out what the heck that is supposed to mean! Them signs is probably one of them 'big city ways' that that dern mayor is trying to bring in here along with all that pavement and them sidewalks and all of those other trappings of the devil, so I didn't pay it no never mind! Anyway, I didn't think that there were any more elves in these parts after those Bodine boys got a little carried away with all that beer they supposedly 'found' on the side of the road and got a little 'trigger happy' last year. But what do I care! I saw that darn town has a new BBQ grill in the park and that is enough for me to fret over and gossip about for the next 12 weeks! The nerve of that town going and making things all fancy! That just ain't right!" she fumed while stomping her size 13 foot on what was just seconds before the now rare remains of an actual functioning mole hole. (Oh, that poor mole! Just imagine the horror from its little subterranean point of view! Yikes! No animal deserves that, even ones that make your yard look like the surface of the doggone moon! Having survived the cat counterattack only to fall prey to Dodo Festoon's snow-shoe sized footwear! That just ain't right! Where is PETA when you need them?)
"Well, being the mayor of a town that doesn't place much of a premium on learning in general and spelling in particular does have its unique challenges, let me tell you, but to be honest, I have so many other issues related to that whole educationally contrarian thing around here that I just don't really have the bandwidth to address that tragic yet somewhat ironic elf/elk debacle, for Pete's sake! (Oh, could it be because of his supposed business idea to market "Elf Brand" "supposedly beef" jerky to unsuspecting Lamont tourists?) (Editorial Note: This idea never got off the ground because in the last 50 years Lamont has only had 3 tourists - and two of them were mountain climbers drawn to the town because of the highly misleading name, for Pete's sake! Lamont INDEED! Oh yeah, and the third wayward soul was, as it turns out, somewhat legally insane - or that is what some guy in a white lab coat said, anyway, when they came to haul him away!) It ain't like I don't care about those dern chattering elves or nothing but I have more pressing issues like everyone within 15 miles thinking every article in the town's newsletter was specifically written to somehow humiliate them and so thus they have no choice but to swear out a blood oath curse primarily focused at my ultimate and hopefully prolonged destruction! (Oh, like we needed that stupid newsletter in order to do that!) My advice to them dern elves is to stay put, remain in their little underground homes with those cute little round doors and just listen to stories from Gandalf the Wizard or whatever until the hunting season comes to its inevitable end!!" said the nincompoop who doesn't even know the difference between elves and hobbits, for crying out loud! Oh, no wonder Lamont is in the mess that it is in! Oh, maybe there really is no hope at all! Next thing you know he will be confusing those hard working yet somewhat cranky area dwarves with them dern whimsical, devil-may care pixies out by the Pott's place or whatever. When will the madness ever end then? Oh, good electoral help is just so dern hard to find these days!
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