The Saga of the Wild Spork*

Unbeknownst to most people, it was the spork (American Indian for "strange white utensil of the Colonel") and not the dog that was the first creature domesticated by our ancestors. However, early man soon realized the superiority of the dog over the spork. A dog could aid in hunting, protect the young, fetch your slippers, and sleep upwards of twenty-three hours a day. The spork would just lie around and occasionally help you eat fried chicken and mashed potatoes at the same time. Sadly, it was ahead of its time, for neither the chicken nor the potato nor the deep fryer had yet fallen under man's control. Thus, the spork returned to the wild.

But the potato, the chicken, and the deep fryer did eventually come under domestication, creating a new demand for sporks. Thus, the great spork hunts began.

Every year, for two weeks in November, the wild spork embarks on an epic journey to the fabled spork breeding grounds (a site unknown even today). Hunters come out in droves to bag their quota. Some give the hapless creatures a sporting chance by using teeny-tiny little bows and arrows, but many savagely employ the seductive spork-mating call. Though banned by Congress since 1937, its chirping yodel still echoes across the plains, leading the inexperienced young away from the herd. Quickly caught, they are sealed in plastic bags with the spork's only natural enemy, the paper napkin. There, the succumb to a slow suffocating death.

The hunt has even turned into a savage rite of passage in backwoods communities. When a boy turns fifteen, his family sends him into the woods at night. Using a bright light to pith the poor creatures, he then clubs them with a big stick. The more flattened sporks he returns home with, the more of a man he becomes.

Today, the spork population is at a savage low. Years of hungry fast-food restaurateurs ripping open the plastic bags to retrieve just the napkins have decimated the population. Even KFC no longer uses these beautiful creatures as utensils. The hunting, the madness must come to an end. Viva la Spork!!