In order to spread some seasonal joy, we now present to you, our lucky readers, the beloved tale of the origin of the best holiday ever, Weedsgiving. Enjoy!
While Mr. Flappy was making his way to the store, Lucille was on a date with a burly man pigeon named Chuck. He was kind of an asshole, and he intended to ask Lucille for her hand (or wing, rather) by the end of the night. Pigeons weren’t much for courtship.
Mr. Flappy finally got to the store. By this time it was raining, and he dripped as he came in. The shopkeep lent him his handkerchief and took the order from under his wing.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you, kiddo,” the shopkeep said, handing the order back. “It’s all blurry from the rain. I can’t read what it says.”
Just then, Lucille and her date flew by the store, and Mr. Flappy watched them. She looked so happy. He burst into tears.
“Women troubles, ey?” the shopkeep asked, wiping down a countertop. “Boy, have I been there. You trying to win a girl over? This is what I’d recommend.” The shopkeep took down a tiny bottle of gin and tucked it into Mr. flappy’s messenger bag. “The easiest way to a girl’s heart is through her liver.”
Mr. Flappy tried to get out some money, but the shopkeep waved it away. “No, this time it’s on me, son. Go get her!”
Mr. F flew with all his might, and caught up to Chuck and Lucille. He knocked Chuck into a power line, where he met his untimely demise. He then took the rather stunned Lucille back to the jail cell, where he introduced her to Gerald, before taking her to a secluded spot that looked over the city, where he got her drunk and then had his pigeony way with her.
They were very happy. And with the help of their many children, they fashioned a device to rip the jail wall off and free Gerald. He was grateful and gave them a stolen birdhouse for their wedding gift.