Unable to resist the allure of a hand-washing related hygiene crisis, the Raccoon Elders Council emerged from their reclusive oak hollows and abandoned burrows today to discuss the disease plaguing their human neighbors and to sternly reiterate the importance of washing food for twenty seconds with their weird little hands.
“My fellow Raccoon Elders, it is true that the human’s worship of the orange hamburger man has led them down a dangerous path,” said Lord Dingles, Duke of Trashtonbury, addressing the council. “It is also true that the humans stubbornly refuse to utilize the bountiful puddles of our land to wash their food for the sacred mandate of twenty seconds. The human plague has only galvanized our cause to wash every substance, surface, and weird little hand in existence, as human hygiene negligence has proven a costly toll on their society. But I ask you, if the last human falls ill and perishes, who will replenish the bountiful trash can harvests that we so enjoy? We must lend a sparkling clean paw to those in need and extend our sacred handwashing guidelines to the humans, so that they may continue to supply raccoon-kind with delectable cat food and copious amounts of garbage for our enjoyment. It is imperative that we preserve this most stinky alliance at all costs. Lord Fiddles, Viceroy of Rubbishire, I cede the impeccably clean floor to you.”
The raccoon council erupted into a chorus of chitters as Lord Fiddles approached the dais, first washing his hands in the sacred Puddle of Eternia before speaking.
“The humans have failed to follow the most basic tenets of raccoon hygiene, and their punishment will be prolonged and filthy,” sneered Lord Fiddles, idly wiggling his polished hands. “For too long have the humans haven’t deigned to cleanse their hands with the austerity that the ritual requires, scarcely cleaning underneath their fingernails. In their arrogance they have forgotten to scrub the back of their hands, and it shall be their undoing. They cast the slur ‘Trash Panda’ at us and now we are expected to help? No, it is now in the impeccably washed, eerie little hands of raccoon-kind to direct all matters of hygiene and thrive where the humans have failed. As the last human falls, it is raccoon-kind that will inherit the trash.”
Needling reporters were unable to reach the Sovereign Nation of Possum for comment.
