A local hiker found the following letter in our woods on Sunday evening, and we felt that it might be important to share, given the access it provides into the minds of some troubled individuals in our community. No, we are not talking about undecided voters; we’re talking about deer, the sort that have been roaming the neighborhood in gangs for years now. This is, apparently, their story, written in Deer and translated for a general audience, with the difficult-to-translate bits enclosed in brackets. We are, alas, involved. Worse, it seems that THEY are more involved than we thought.
“Dear Herd,” it began.
“It is with heavy hearts we tell you that Larry has gone to the Great <bed of tasty tulips> in the sky last night. In the course of conducting his research into those <loud, smelly, whump-making lights in the night> he got too close and, well, it was whump for Larry. As a researcher into the field of whumpology, there was no deer better than Larry. He survived countless close encounters, including one that left him with “DROF” imprinted on his forehead. It is a pity that he was sent away to the <delicious garden vegetables with no scary technology around them> in the heavens before he was able to figure out what it meant.
“In the matter of Larry’s whumping, we have scant details. He was crossing the great <river of concrete where no grass grows – what a stupid waste of space> just below the <boring pattern of red, green and yellow lights that all the whumpers seem to stop and watch – what idiots> when out of nowhere came this whumper, and, of course, Larry followed protocol by freaking out and running right into it.
“His last words, according to the onlookers (and thank you for remembering to always travel in groups in order to preserve the deer tradition of <freaking out en masse>) were ‘Holy <domesticated beef product I hope we’re not even distantly related>, boys, this thing is NOT just the <bright blinding stupid-makers> in the …’ whump. We will never know what is not just the <bright blinding stupid-makers,> and this is great cause for concern in the community.
“Accordingly, we would like all deer to step up their investigative efforts. This is not the time to think only of your own antlers; we have to figure out how to <run across the concrete river with the brains of a deer tick> and not get whumped. We believe Larry to have been close to this knowledge when he met his unfortunate demise. Therefore, we urge you to travel in large groups and remain <alert to your surroundings while utterly devoid of any sense of self-preservation.> Some whumpings will be inevitable, but remember the dedicated researchers ‘Three Hoof’ and ‘Crazy Antler.’ If they survived encounters with the <snorting rockets of red and white light – geez don’t these mammals ever just sit in the dark,> then so can you.
“Great researcher that he was, this was probably the way Larry would want to go, trying to make the <place infested with loud, two-legged vermin who talk to their hands all the time> safe for all deer. If we follow in his footsteps, we might be able to rid the neighborhood of these sons of bunnies, or at least slow them down a bit. Onlookers report that the <snarling boulder of brightly-lit pain> lost one of its <things that stick off the sides and bonk you on the noggin just when you thought it was over – ow> and the device was seen in the median of the <very unsanitary hard surface where bits of Larry remained for quite a while.> The onlookers also said that Larry did a number on the <really unnecessarily speedy thing that has no idea we’re out here – how stupid can it get,> leaving dents all down its inorganic side.
“We will hold a memorial <eating of expensive landscaping> for Larry on top of the <highly populated but utterly delicious, so who cares> hill tomorrow night. Afterward, we will chase some <domesticated distant relatives of wolves – what a joke, they need a can opener to survive> and do research on the tributaries of the <seriously, who thinks hard surfaces are a good idea river of concrete> and continue to plan to take over the world.
“As long as we don’t get whumped.
“Sincerely, <Big Gigantic Freaking Huge Antlers,> Head Deer”