On Recreating How the Natives Must Have Spent the First Thanksgiving

This excerpt from one of my Yelp reviews recounts how I spent my Thanksgiving weekend. I entitled this entry 'On Recreating How the Natives Must Have Spent the First Thanksgiving' because my weekend contained many things that the natives must have endured when the Europeans arrived like illness, hunger, blood, and fear of death. Of course, my suffering was minuscule compared to that of the natives in what we now call the Americas:

My Thanksgiving weekend, if it can be called that, was mired by disasters. My dear beloved girlfriend was attacked by a most wretched and vile stomach bug on Friday morn' with symptoms that stretched out well into Saturday afternoon. As her illness progressed, I grew fearful that I, too, would succumb to that malignant specter that upends one's stomach and empties one's bowels. To my good fortune, her condition improved; however, this amelioration lulled me into a false sense of security that I would escape unscathed.

As I donned my vestments and coiffed the stubble of my remaining hair in preparation for a marvelous eve in the most brilliant of cities, I felt a rumbling in the very pit of my entrails. Woe be me! Shortly thereafter, I found myself to be a prisoner in our very own bathroom. I say, good people, that I will spare you the putrid details, but my suffering continued well into the following day.

A brief respite, not doubt a temporary halt by the accursed bug in an effort to lead a new charge with redoubled effort, allowed me to drift into an unsteady sleep. Quickly, I was awoken by screams... my love had found a mouse trapped in one of the cruelest devices. The cute little fellow had wandered onto a glue trap, preventing his coming and goings. He fought and fought, managing only to rip his hair out. I sprung into action, grabbing the trap with said struggling rodent, grabbed a bottle of olive oil and made for the bathroom. My love purveyed a humane trap and I steeled my nerves for what was to come. I poured oil over the glue and grabbed my new friend. However, as he was slicked down and my reflexes were slowed by my deteriorated condition, I was unable to grab hold and transfer him to the humane contraption. The little fellow did take hold of my finger with his incisors, clenching hard and holding on for dear life. I let out a yell, fighting to remove the rodent's grip without strangling him. He let go after I ran water over his head, no doubt feeling like those held prisoner by our beloved armed forces. Blood gushed out of the wound and the little fellow did scamper away in a hurry.