The Janitors’ Holiday Party

CW: Gore and mentions of death in the context of nature

The Janitors’ Holiday Party 

“Party time!” Cousin Ludwig grunts, landing with an awkward hop. “We have secured the venue!”

Work holiday parties are just that, in our profession: work, right along with the holiday partying. The time and the venue are always a last-minute surprise. It keeps life interesting.

For us, the party—and the work—starts when it’s over for someone else. We’re the cleanup crew. The janitors, if you will. 

“Ready, everyone?” Ludwig is eager to get us there while the food is fresh. Ish.

He’s a top-notch scout. Sniffs out the best parties a mile away!

“Give me a minute,” Eunice mumbles. 

“Women…” Horace begins, but lets his words trail off at Eunice’s warning glare. 

“Don’t start, Horace!”

Eunice can be a mite touchy. Gets her feathers ruffled easily, if you know what I mean. And Horace? He’s incredibly dense.

“What’s on the menu?”

“Venison.”

“Agaaain?” Aunt Lucretia grouses. “We had venison last week! Hardly a holiday treat.”

Side note: We’re not likely to see grouse on the menu around here. We do have the occasional turkey dinner, and one time there was owl. 

Lucretia’s right—we do get quite a lot of venison. Only, most of us don’t gripe about it. The thing is, there’s usually enough to feed a good-sized group. Not many jobs include an unlimited food budget.

But no matter what, Lucretia is perpetually discontented. We all know someone like that, don’t we? 

If venison isn’t available for months, Lucretia complains. If we have it two feasts in a row, Lucretia complains. And she’s always going on about how the young ones look so frowzy, you’d think they’d take more pride in their appearance, yadda yadda yadda…

Enough about Lady Doom and Gloom. She is who she is. We’re generally a congenial bunch, and it wouldn’t be the same without her.

The venue for this holiday party is down a pleasant country road, with open fields on both sides. It’s a big job, but there’s strength in numbers. We can do this! 

Inez arrives after we’ve already started. She’s always fashionably late.

“Hi,” she sighs breathily, squeezing in between Cecil and me with a soft plop.

“Sorry I’m late. Mind if I join you?”

She’s playing me, I know it. But I take the bait anyway and preen a little.

I’m never sure where I stand with Inez. She’s well-kept, and I know I have rivals for her affection. Perhaps she’s not quite ready to settle down. And in our culture, settling down is a lifetime commitment. I do whatever I can to make a good impression.

Cecil hunches over his food and says nothing. I happen to know that he likes Inez too, but he’s a little bashful.

“Inez, it would be my pleasure. Care to share a rack of ribs?” I bow slightly, feeling suave until Inez gives a gurgle of laughter. 

“What…?” Now I’m uncertain. Is she happy to be in my company, or is she mocking me?

“Alonzo—I have a bone to pick with you!”

Just for a split second, I’m afraid. I’ve done something wrong. But then I get it. She’s accepting my invitation. Inez is clever. She’s always ready with a witty comeback. I relax, and tuck into the tasty flesh.

With Inez by my side, I hardly notice what I’m eating. I’m glad there’s no need for small talk. I can let my thoughts wander to a possible future with this stunning creature. 

We make short work of the ribs, picking them clean in tandem. Inez is thorough, efficient, and somehow elegant.

A speeding car careens wildly around the curve, dangerously close to our feast! It roars off down the road, and we wince at the sound of squealing tires.

“Whoa! Idiots!” Horace quakes. “That was too close for comfort.” 

“Remember what day it is, Horace?” prompts Eunice, waving a half-eaten ulna for emphasis. “They’re all out celebrating the end of one year and the start of another. Which, for some reason, they do by being incredibly reckless.”

“It’s to our benefit,” Lucretia croons, “although… we’re likely to get sick of venison, with the whole deer-caught-in-the-headlights effect.”

We hear more tire-squealing in the distance. By the sound of it, we’ll have another good feast tomorrow. And if it’s venison again, Lucretia will complain.

This job doesn’t take long. We’re an efficient crew. There’s not a shred of meat left; only a pile of bones give testament to our recent festal board.

We move on to complete the party in our typical low-key fashion. We’re all feeling full, and it’s most pleasant to bask in the rays of the afternoon sun. 

Looks like my lucky day! Inez settles herself near me, while Cecil slouches away to try his charm on my sister, Ethel. That’s OK by me—Cecil is a good sort, and Ethel will distract him from Inez.

“What’s your favorite food?” I ask Inez. Maybe I can take lessons from Ludwig, and impress Inez with my talent by locating a choice morsel.

“Snakes… they’re a real delicacy! Particularly the eyes. There’s a nice pop to the texture. Mmmmm-mm!… Love me a good, tender gopher snake!”

Snakes aren’t out and about this time of year. Too cold. I’ll have to try something else.

Our staple side dishes are so plentiful, none of them would be impressive. Possum, skunk, raccoon. Skunk, raccoon, possum. Raccoon, possum, skunk. Ad nauseum. Especially when it’s skunk.

Actually, to be honest, skunk is tasty—you just have to avoid the scent glands. It can get nasty if they’ve been compromised. Not very romantic.

I nod, and agree that snakes are delectable. Then I’m silent again, thinking about how to successfully woo Inez.

I catch her sneaking a glance at me, and it bolsters my courage.

“Maybe tomorrow,” I offer boldly, “we can ride the thermals together?”

Inez gazes at me, soft-eyed.

“I’d love that, Alonzo. I really would!’

She shifts a little closer to me. We spread our wings, tips just barely touching, and sit in the fading sunlight.