Dear Citizens and Honorable Judges,
It is with reluctance that I officially announce my resignation as of today. I will agree to come out of my burrow for the last time this morning, so that you may retain your dignity in front of the 40,000 spectators that have crowded upon the village of Gobbler's Knob. But, in all honesty, you are all a big bunch of phonies who have exploited me for the last time.
I've been your faithful employee and weather prophet since the 1800's. In case you haven't realized it- I am old. Your famous concoction of Groundhog Punch has not been medically proven to extend my life whatsoever- and furthermore, it tastes like fermented earthworms. The FDA has never formally approved the drink,so I could realistically be risking future health problems. Therefore, I no longer wish to be your giant guinea pig.
How can you expect me to survive on that measly fare when the entire town is feasting upon gourmet delicacies and specialty ales? I am stuffed into that fake log for months at a time without so much as a conjugal visit. And the steroids you have administered to keep me fat have reeked havoc upon my entire nervous system. Do you know the suffering you gentlemen have placed upon me for the past two hundred years or more? Well, my dear sirs, you have discriminated against me for the last time.
And while we are speaking honestly and forthright, I must also address the issue of my name. Legally, I have been given the name of Punxsutawney Phil, Seer of Seers, Sage of Sages, Prognosticator of Prognosticators and Weather Prophet Extraordinaire. Sounds extremely
important and debonair, but how sophisticated can one be who lies around in soiled wood chips and a urine scented log? My birth name was Tater Lee Goobinstein and I wish to retain this on any further correspondence or press releases. I am sure you understand.
You do not begin know the extreme anguish I have beheld for so long, being the sole source of the spring prediction. Have you ever seen the faces of those freezing children or the disgust of those farmers, as another six weeks of winter is announced? I think not. As long as you bring in record numbers of tourists, then you could care less about the depression and despair we so flippantly induce upon the nation.
Lastly, I would like the world to know that I am not a hog. To be tossed among the swine has been a great misery to me and deflated my self-esteem beyond repair. Furthermore, and contrary to many an idiot's beliefs- I am neither a possum, ferret, large guinea pig or badger. Proudly, I am a Marmota Monax, and I wish to announce this soon in a public arena- just to set the record straight.
As you may have gathered, I will not be submitting the customary two weeks notice. I will be leaving as soon as the flashbulbs die down and the news crews leave for the day. I assume my 401K and severance pay is in order, as I will be obtaining a residence in a warmer climate, where I have already given earnest money for a fine new borrow that exceeds my needs.
Farewell to all. Perhaps you must now rely on meteorologists in the future, although we all know that their predictions are very spotty and dead wrong most of the time.
This old hog has been used for the last time.
Sincerely,
Your faithful servant and friend,
Tater Lee Goobinstein
(AKA Punxsutawney Phil)
