In fact, the brazenly wintry mixes in the weeks following Phil’s February forecast for spring has left most folks feeling frosted.
There's no shadow of doubt: this woodchuck has enemies, and plenty of them. Someone's looking to put him on ice. Permanently.
What’s a renegade rodent to do? There is always the federal Woodchuck Protection Program. Let the Department of Justice cloak Phil in a new coat of fur, devise a new identity, and pair him with a career counselor to re-engineer his skills. By bringing his talents up to 21st century levels, Phil can cast off that 17th century mumbo jumbo that reflects the Druids and their devout Groundhoggisms, all those out-of-date practices that got the poor fellow into this meteorological mess in the first place.
Surrender, Phil: In an age of weather satellites and weather apps, the only answer is to give yourself up while there’s still time. Your best efforts have already been outsourced to technology, Satellites do it better from the sky than you could ever do on the ground (or below it).
Besides, now there’s a price on your head.
Would a new career be so bad? Insider information tells us there’s going to be an opening soon for another important seasonal post, a spot that is guaranteed to make you as loved and cherished as Santa Claus: It seems the Easter bunny is in contract for a condo in Boca Raton and anticipates retiring in just a few weeks to a life of golfing, shopping and playing poker. It might take a little surgery (well, your ears were always way too small anyway), and a few Zumba lessons to teach you how to hop, but this might end up being a nice fit.
Punxsutawney Phil, the Easter Woodchuck: now there's a good egg everyone can love.
