Mardi Gras

One reason the polar bears didn’t especially look forward to these Mardi Gras get-togethers was that the penguins kept pretending not to know about the bears’ contractual obligation to their sole sponsor. Those little twerps knew, but every year, they acted like they forgot.

It worked like this: In return for the chance to hang out in the Fallifurton Foods refrigerated storage facilities while choking down their Polar Buddy Sish Sticks® (not made from fish, made from soy . . . maybe, and “other ingredients” not spelled out since deregulation), the polar bears didn’t just have to appear in those silly-ass commercials for sports events. The good-behavior clause of their contract also stipulated that they could only partake of LoLa CoLa® or some other “wholesome” treat in public. Like Sish Sticks.

In other words, no booze.

The penguins, on the other hand, with their little button eyes and winsome faces, they had people just throwing indoor air-conditioned preserves at them, no strings attached. They could eat, drink, and ogle whatever they pleased. Sure, the polar bears would take those arrangements if they could, but everyone knew they couldn’t get a deal that nice. So did the little tuxedos have to rub the bears’ faces in it every stinking year?

So while the penguins guzzled beer and every other drink they could think of, and leered at human girls in skimpy swimsuits, the bears got to collect seashells. Oh hot diggity.

On the bright side, the birds would at least leave one of their magazines behind every now and then.

The other reason the bears didn’t like these parties so much is that the Polar Bear Caucus and the Penguin Caucus could never agree where to meet. But by now, everyone realized the debate was silly. It didn’t matter whether the party was in the Arctic, Antarctica, or New Orleans. These days, all three places were overheated, underwater, and awash in oil drilling.