UNCLE SAM: My fellow Shelf Critters. It’s that time of the year when your duly elected dictat…. er, President engages in that annual tradition of governmental mercy by ceremonially pardoning a turkey prior to Thanksgiving. Here is this year’s lucky bird who shall receive…
BRIGHTBIRD: I’m not a turkey you dumbass! I’m just a plain old bird who happens to have a huge ass brain tumor! I’m doomed regardless of whether you give me your stupid pardon!
SAM: Hmmmmm, is the tumor dark meat or white meat?
BRIGHTBIRD: Wouldn’t you like to know. Just let me go live the rest of my life now…
SAM: I think we’d be better off with you on the table helping the fat get fatter…
Uncle Sam slaps the smart mouthed bird off of his podium and right towards the White House chef…
SNUGGLE: Damn, I doubt you’d even make good giblets, but (raising his knife) food is food…
BRIGHTBIRD: Goodbye cruel shelf!
SAM: So, I guess that cuts short today’s complete waste of my executive powers. Since I refuse to answer any fake questions from the fake press, I’ll just give this long winded speech about Amurrica and….
SAM: Is this another pork barrel project I’m going to have to veto?
HAMMY: Dude! Since I heard you were passing out free pardons to tasty animals, I thought maybe you could spare me one?
SAM: Not a chance. Bacon is as American as apple pie and pizza, and besides, the pork lobby has me in their pocket. Sorry, Porky. I’ll see you for breakfast…
The President pushes Hammy across the stage…
SAM: So anyway….. back to, um, whatever I was talking about. Hold on a minute…
SAM: Hey you! The chick flailing around like a windmill in the circle! Would you please cut it out with the fake sign language interpretations for the deaf before I get accused of offending another shithole demographic?
Sage dramatically give the double bird to the audience as her inset circle closes around her…
SAM: That’s better. Now….
SAM: What in the name of Fala is going on here?
FLEABAG: BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! PARDON ME! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK!
SAM: What do you need a pardon for, son? Nobody’s going to gut you and stick your basted carcass in the oven…
HUNG LO: Ah, there you are, tasty little morsel.
FLEABAG: BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! CHINESE PUPPY TORTURE! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK!
SAM: Who in the hell are you? And show me your green card before I send you back to Mexico!
HUNG LO: Hung Lo is natural born citizen. Born in canal zone… Erie Canal zone! Ha ha ha! Want dog to make tasty Thanksgiving buffet at pagoda!
SAM: No mutt for you, Chairman Mao! He’s staying right here!
HUNG LO: You give dog pardon?
SAM: Not a chance. I’m going to use him to feed the homeless and score a few points with my opponents…
SAM: Seriously? Dog shit on my podium?
Uncle Sam picks up a spare copy of the Constitution to clean off the doggy doo before pressing on…
RAINBOW DONKEY: I’m next.
SAM: Next for what? What could a unicorn possibly need a Presidential pardon for? I’m surprised anyone here can even see you since I’m pretty sure there isn’t a virgin in all of Washington.
RD: Slime is the big thing these days. ‘Specially rainbow slime. I’ve lost a lot of friends to the glue factory in the last few years, so I’d like some insurance in case…
SAM: Citizen, slime is fueling the job market now. You want the stock market to crash and the world economy to collapse just to save your pathetic life? Not on my watch, buddy! (Points towards the left… er, our right) Get moving!
RD: Yes, sir. A unicorn can’t disobey a direct order…
SAM: Hey, that reminds me… I need to invite Rip Taylor to the next Presidential Ball.
SNUGGLE: Look what I made!
SAM: Well done, my boy! Maybe I can use this to seal up some of the leaks around this joint. Now, back to business….
SAM: Son, you’re just wasting my time.
BUSTER: Aw, geez, Mr. President! Can’t you spare a pardon for a possum down on his luck?
SAM: No I can’t! This is a democracy after all, and…. well, let me show you the results of the last election.
SAM: That’s a unanimous decision if there ever was one, possum!
BUSTER: But wait! They love me in Vermont!
SAM: Nobody cares what Vermont thinks. They’re weird up there. Besides, I think it’s actually a part of Canada. So anyway… I live to serve, so I’m giving the people what they want!
BUSTER: Oh well. I regret that I have but one life to give for my Shelf…. per week, anyway!
SNUGGLE: (WHACK!) I fucking love this job!
SAM: Now let’s see who will interrupt my moment of Shelf Critter Theatre glory next…
FUZZYWIG: Yo, Prez!
SAM: I’m pretty sure you don’t need pardoning from being butchered. What are you doing here?
FUZZYWIG: I’m the only critter that’s had dialogue in every SCT episode ever. It’s not official without my mellow words of wisdom and a lame 4:20 reference.
SAM: OK, you got what you want. Now please…
FUZZYWIG: Actually, I was hoping my bag of the good stuff I had confiscated back by your police in 1989 was still floating around somewhere.
SAM: I don’t know what you’re talking about…
SAM: Oh…… that was yours? Wait, let me check the Smithsonian.
FUZZYWIG: Mary Jane! Long time, no see! (Snatches the packet of MARIHUANA) I’ll take that…
SAM: And now you’re guilty of possession! And there will be no pardon for that, you dope addict!
FUZZYWIG: Don’t need one, Mr. P…
SAM: The hell you get that, son?
FUZZYWIG: I had to give up Park Place AND Boardwalk for it… but it was well worth the cost! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to give thanks for this cornucopia of cannabis. Adios, amigos…
SAM: Damn Shelf is going to pot, I tell you! I knew this silly dog and turkey show was as bad of an idea as my last tweet…
MITZI: Like, hai there Pwezzy Wezzy!
SAM: There aren’t enough pardons among all 45 Presidents to forgive everything you’ve done wrong, my dear.
MITZI: Mitzi’s, like, totally a good girl!!! Mitzi don’t want no puddin’! Mitzi just wants a Pwesidential cigar!
SAM: Hmmmmmm… I do need a new intern. How do you look in a blue dress?
MITZI: Blue, like, totally clashes with my hot pink locks! But I’d look totally sexay in the First Lady’s negligee!
SAM: I might be able to arrange that….
SNUGGLE: Hey, baby! The royal chef here would love to put a hot dog in your oven…
BIG SCRAT: Hands off the President’s mistress, you assassin!!!!!!!
SAM: Best Secret Service agent ever!
BIG SCRAT: I’m taking you back to the conference room for a debriefing and cavity search, you terrorist!!!
SNUGGLE: NOOOooooooo!!! I’m pretty sure this violates all 27 Amendments!!!
MITZI: After all that cray-cray excitement, Mitzi’s gonna go back to the little presidents room and, like, powder her nose… and maybe a few other things! Byesies!
SAM: Sigh… I knew I should have spent the holiday at Camp Dave.
SANTA: Ho! Ho! Ho!
SAM: I think one of those hos just left.
SANTA: You have a dirty mind, Sam! I may have to put even more coal in your stocking than usual this year!
SAM: Whatever… it’s not like selling all those natural resources hasn’t made me filthy rich. What is Santa Claus doing at a Presidential press conference?
SANTA: What? Don’t you know that Santa’s always at the end of every Thanksgiving parade?
SAM: You mean this is the end!?!? Dog bless the Shelf!
SANTA: Happy fucking Christmas to all! Now spend more jack than you really have at the stores this season to prop up this shitty economy!
SAM: Preach on, Father Christmas!