The Annual Christmas Party and year-end meeting of The Summer Solstice™ was held at Puzzles Fine Dining and Beer Joint on the evening of Monday, Dec. 11, 2000.
Your outgoing chairman, Gord Grant, hereby presents the minutes of the business portion of the meeting.
The meeting was called to order by Chairman Grant at 7 p.m. sharp. Let it be recorded that the meeting came to order sometime close to midnight or shortly thereafter when Brother Mulligoon finally seemed to run out of things to say, or, more accurately, grunt.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Chairman Grant gave a brief and succinct annual financial report that showed he had again done the seemingly impossible, finished the year with a balanced budget. It was agreed by most of the Solsticians™ still a) awake or b) sober that Chairman Grant makes Paul Martin look like a novice.
In any event, the financial report is thus:
Fiscal responsibility is the hallmark of good government, said your treasurer-chairman to a solid and deafening round of boos. As your recording secretary I must also say I think I heard the occasional “sit down you FI” or “who the fuck is he anyway?”
But one can never be sure, can one?
Brother Malanchuk and Brother Smyth, the other two Tenured Solsticians™ at the meeting (Chairman Grant being the third), offered some pithy comments, but they seem to have floated away on the pungent air of Puzzles Fine Dining and Beer Joint.
Neither bought a round, thus continuing a long tradition.
Brother Ed Champagne bought a round, obviously hoping to keep future Solstician parties at his place. I’m not sure it worked, because almost immediately, Brother Randy Hughes, he of Tanglefoots Beer and Botulism Emporium, sprang for a few drinks.
Keep the competition going, lads.
Then TFFN bought a round, then Chairman Grant, then Brother Al, then Brother Mulligoon (more about him later), then Brother Etchells, bought a couple of rounds, then Brother Pierre.
Eds note: Brother Malanchuk was so pissed by this time that he forgot to buy a round and went home with the same $10 he arrived with. Brother Smyth had left already. He didn’t want to drink and drive.
Brother Clearyourthroat handed out some Christmas cheer; Brother WOG didn’t; Brother Duj faded early talking about plowing --I think he was talking about snow, Brother BobtheCop was strangely quiet.
The Wops, Nino and Willie didn’t show. They forgot about the meeting. Nammie seems to have vanished.
Brother Robertson was also a no-show--he probably went along the wrong street (like his fairway play) and got lost. Big Head is under investigation by The Tenured Solsticians Organized Crime Commission™ and he didn’t show.
He will be called to a hearing.
Brothers Big Fella and Howie were also not at the meeting. Big Fella called to apologize, Howie didn’t. He was therefore assessed a round the next time he is seen in Puzzles.
Now to the big news: Late into the meeting, Brother Mulligoon was named president-elect of the 14th Annual Summer Solstice™.
At first he didn’t seem too impressed with his ascension, but he eventually came to see the honor being bestowed upon him and he began to babble.
I’ll read his exact words from my notes: “Well. It’s like this. I’m saying this from here.”
At this point he hesitated as though expecting applause. Instead he received a rousing rendition of The Star Spangled Banner.
Somewhat nonplussed (I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone so non-plussed) he glared menacingly at his beer and said: “You can’t make me president-elect.”
Told in no uncertain terms that it had been done and to shut the fuck up, he started all over again.
“If I’m president-elect, I want tenure. Then I want . . .”
It was at this point that he seemed to forget what he wanted, so we sang For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow and yelled spillage. Christine, the fine waitress knowing that this meant Ed had lost a bird, promptly brought a round.
Brother Champagne just as promptly put it on Brother Mulligoon’s bar tab.
Well done, Ed.
But Mulligoon was not to be silenced. He babbled about something, and I quote: “Blither booble wiskers jonson harvey, gafflebab sooniger plagigent sish. Naothinn woombie sagrocrast sibbent.”
He went silent at this point so all assembled believed he had finished speaking in tongues and gave him another rousing chorus of For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.
It seems certain that Mulligoon will try to be impeached, but it won’t work, he’s too feckless.
And speaking of Feckless, Brother Malanchuk retrieved the Feckless Idiot of the Year Award for 2000 and showed Brother Mulligoon that his name was on it.
“Gribble broober samechuk skittle,” said Mulligoon, looking a bit self-satisfied, I thought.
Your recording secretary at that point went down memory lane to re-create Mulligoon’s rather petulant acceptance speech for the FI Award. Mulligoon sulked. The rest of the Solsticians™ were rather taken by my thespian talents. Some went so far as to suggest I was an FI.
The meeting then disintegrated into a bit of a mess and people complained to Brother Ed that perhaps he might lose business were he to hold a Summer Solstice Annual Christmas (or any other) Party™ in the future.
Brother Mulligoon told them to perform acts of unspeakable bestiality. The meeting adjorned.