If not for the easy vittles, Glenn would have bailed out of the Groundhog Day mascot gig long ago. He never complained, but yearned for a normal groundhog existence ... eating the choicest, most tender shoots of freshly planted cabbage, digging a den with a rear escape hatch to screw with stupid dogs, and playing Frogger on the nearest two-lane highway, drunk after a night of eating spoiled apples with his buddies. A groundhog's life ain't too bad at all.
Groundhogs can't read calendars, but Glenn knew the day in his honor was coming. Farmer McMurray and his wife Sally would come and talk to Glenn, kind of a pep talk if you will, on what was expected of him during the ceremony. No squirming, no pooping, brush your teeth, smile for the cameras, take a bath, and above all no biting! Glenn had been doing this for years, but groundhogs have terrible long term recall, so he was happy for the reminders.
Primped and full of fresh veggies that Sally had gathered, Glenn was loaded into the back of McMurray's truck for the short ride to Town Center. Glenn wasn't as popular as that diva Punxsuatawney Phil or Wildwood Willie, but the little town of Stanley put on quite a display, marching bands, a small parade and revelers who needed yet another excuse to get schnookered. All welcomed him with cheers and applause.
As the muckety-muck, wanna be fancy people started to gather near the stage, Glenn suddenly felt a rumbly in his tummy. Nerves, he thought. After all, all this hoopla was for him, in his honor.
Mayor Prescott, an aging toad of a man with a pronounced hunch in his back and the unfortunate curse of being a serial stutterer, started the ceremony. "P-p people of S-s-stanley, t-t-oday is a g-grand day!" Glenn fought back laughter, he had heard this guy speak for years, but it never grew old.
Suddenly, Glenn's tummy growled ferociously and he felt a headache coming on. Yada yada c-c-c-ommunity. Yada yada civic p-p-ride. Glenn's head was now splitting, banging in time with the marching band, his stomach doing figure eights, something was really wrong!
At the appointed hour, Farmer McMurray reached in and pulled Glenn out of his cage. More talking - more banging - more flops, Glenn was in bad shape. McMurray noticed something was wrong, Glenn was green in the gills and whispered to him, "You OK, fella? This will be over real soon, hang in there."
Mrs. Prescott, an identical twin to her husband, but with a better beard, joined The Mayor on stage. She talked directly into Glenn's face thanking him for his service, her breath a nauseating blend of cheap gin and Marlboros. Glenn knew he was in trouble, bile gathered in his throat as McMurray held him high in the air to check on that whole see your shadow nonsense. Glenn convulsed once, then twice, McMurray looked up and saw a rainbow of half-digested veggies spew from Glenn's mouth, finding purchase on Mrs. Prescott's face and fur coat. The crowd gasped, the band stopped and all responded with an unanimous "Ewww!"
Farmer McMurray turned Glenn around to stop the assault on the Mayor's wife. The Mayor ran to be next to her when, as if on cue, Glenn raised the cover on his rear escape hatch and vacated the contents of his bowels on both of them.
Legend has it that the Mayor's stuttering was cured that day as he unfurled a string of expletives rivaling any Marine with perfect diction and iambic pacing. During his temper tantrum, he called McMurray a good for nothing, bone headed idiot while the crowd roared at his appearance, a hunch backed two-year old covered in groundhog excrement.
On the ride home, McMurray asked Sally what she had fed Glenn. "Um, cabbage, celery, carrots, onions ..."
He interrupted her, "Dear, groundhogs LOVE onions but their bellies can't handle them!"
Glenn was never invited back to the celebration but today is living a carefree existence on the farm. He and Sally laugh as McMurray cuts a slice of onion and slips it into the cage of whatever farmer's groundhog is the mascot that year.
The Prescotts still haven't figured it out: both have sworn off onions for some reason.