The Pun-isher

There's an annual Austin event in which I've always been very interested. I'd see the signs for it on the commute between San Antonio and Arlington, and I'd instruct my man servant to make a mental note so that one day, I could attend. While man-servant has failed me in many ways (e.g. failing to sweep my quarters last night for scorpions), he has shone brilliantly when it comes to reminding me about this particular event. For that, I will shower him with candy corn. This is all a round-about way of saying that, on Saturday, I shall be rocking out the O. Henry Pun Off.

Being a hallowed elder of the Super Dork club, it should be no surprise to anyone that I like puns. To guys like me, puns are right up there with graphing calculators and dirty thoughts about Princess Leia, and I think my love for them could only be intensified with a battle-to-the-death competition. However, I am saddened to say that I will be at the Pun-Off as a spectator only. There are two reasons for this. First, I have been barred from international pun contests due to a nasty incident in the Helsinki Pun-Run last year. I do not wish to make excuses for my behavior, but I had no idea my good-luck tiger was so intolerant of Scandinavians. Again, I apologize.

Second, and most important, I am just not in competition shape. If I wanted to do it right, I'd have to pull a Rocky IV and set up a secluded training camp in Siberia. It'd be nothing but me running up snow-covered mountains, punning my heart out, while my salty, old coach chases me with a cattle prod. A mockery at first, I wouldbegrudgingly win over the hearts of the godless Commies with my old-school flavor and my never-say-die ways. I just think I'd be a little bit rushed to pull something like this off before Saturday. So, rest easy, pun-off entrants; each of you may actually stand a chance this year. See the sights, pow-wow with your buddies, and enjoy your "competition". Next year, it will not be so easy.