Wrong or Mostly Wrong?: Thanksgiving For The Memories

A long time ago on the east coast of America, a ship carrying a bunch of undocumented immigrants landed on Plymouth Rock.  The native tribes watched the uneducated migrants from afar.  At first they watched with suspicion, but their suspicion turned to amusement as they watched the dumb foreigners’ rather stupid attempts to survive.  Finally, when the foreigners’ attempts to live off the land stopped being funny, chief Massasoit decided it was time for the foreigners to go back where they came from.  He called for an expert on the immigrants’ culture to help deal with them.

“Greetings, Squinty.”  the chief said.

“Squanto.”  the man replied.

“Whatever.  Since you are the only man here that speaks the language of the foreigners, I need you to come with me so that I can talk to them.”  the chief said.

“Why would you want to do that?”  Squanto asked.

“To tell them that I’m deporting them, obviously.  The last thing we need are some illegal aliens taking our jobs.”  the chief said.

“Wouldn’t it be better to let them stay?  Diversity is a necessary part of a thriving society after all.  Also, a lot of our people have died of illness recently, so we could use some more citizens in our land.”  Squanto said.

“Look stupid, if we let these jerks stay, then more of them are going to come here.  If we don’t stop this now, we’ll be overrun by them.”  the chief said.

So Squanto and Massasoit walked over to the immigrant camp and met with their leader.

“I am Big Chief Massasoit, and I order you to go back to wherever it is you come from.”  the chief said.

“Chief Dog-breath here says that you can stay in our land for as long as you want.”  Squanto said to the immigrant leader.

“I’m not sure why you think we need your permission, but we appreciate the sentiment.”  the immigrant leader said.

“Beaver-face says they can’t go back because their boat was damaged when they landed on our shore.”  Squanto said to the chief.

“Tell him that’s not my problem.”  the chief said.

“Dog-breath says that he’s going to have me stay with you, in order to teach your people how to survive in this land.”  Squanto said to the immigrant leader.

“We thank you for the offer, but we don’t need any help from some godless savages.”  the immigrant leader said.

“Beaver-face says that if you let me stay to help fix their boat, then they can leave faster.”  Squanto said to the chief.

The chief thought for a while.  “Very well.  But I want them gone as soon as possible.”

“Dog-breath said that he insists.  He has seen too many of your people die these past few weeks, and he can’t stand to see dumb animals suffer.”  Squanto said to the immigrant leader.

“Oh, very well.  We welcome your assistance.”  the immigrant leader said.

“Beaver face agrees.”  Squanto said to the chief.

So Squanto showed the dumb foreigners the things they needed in order to survive, like how to fish and plant crops.  In time, the immigrants had enough food to survive the harsh winter.  They decided to celebrate their good fortune by having a big harvest feast.  That same day, Chief Massasoit and some of his best hunters came to the immigrant camp.

“What the hell is going on here?  I thought I told you that I wanted these people gone!”  the chief said.

“They’re just throwing a little farewell party.  They’ll be leaving the first thing in the morning.”  Squanto said.

“They’d better.”  the chief said.

“Actually, I’m glad you came by.  Beaver-face asked me to invite you and the rest of the tribe over, in thanks for helping speed up their departure.”  Squanto said.

“That is nice of them.  How are they fixed for food?”  the chief asked.

“They mostly just have corn and fish.”  Squanto said.

“In that case, my hunters and I will return with some deer.”  the chief said.

“While you’re at it, see if you can bring back a pumpkin pie!”  Squanto said.

“That hasn’t been invented yet, dummy!”  the chief said.

The chief and his hunters left to catch some deer, while Squanto went over to the leader of the immigrants.

“What did the chief want?”  the immigrant leader asked.

“Dog-breath said that if you let him and his tribesmen join your feast, then he’ll bring some deer meat for the meal.  I told him you’d be delighted.”  Squanto said.

“I really wish you hadn’t done that.  I don’t like the idea of sharing a meal with a bunch of ignorant savages.”  the immigrant leader said.

“Ignorant savages?  We’re not the ones that were too stupid to know how to grow corn!”  Squanto said.

“Oh, very well, if you’re going to get all sensitive about it.”  the immigrant leader said.

And so, the natives and the illegal aliens had a wonderful banquet that was only peaceful because each side thought that they would never see the other side ever again.

Is this story Wrong or Mostly Wrong?  You make the call!  Oh, and after you make that call, could you please call the pharmacy?  I’m all out of antacids.

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