Britney's squirrel denial

Britney Spears has denied eating squirrel, but did anyone believe it in the first place? Having chased one of those critters up a tree, I am certain that no human is agile enough to catch one. Certainly not Britney, whose dopey face suggests slow reflexes and poor hand-eye coordination. What’s more, there isn’t nearly enough meat on a squirrel to justify the effort. When I finally grabbed the one that stole my nuts, I thought “this puny little rodent wouldn’t feed an anorexic weasel.” Not that I had any intention of eating it myself, of course – we gorillas are fastidious in abstaining from unauthorised meat products.

Now that Britney has responded to the squirrel allegation, it can only be a matter of time before she is forced into further denials. There is no end of furry mammals that an unstable young singer from a Hillbilly family may be plausibly accused of eating. Possum, raccoon, coyote, beaver? I doubt she’s tasted any of them, yet after making such a fuss about the squirrel story I can’t help wondering.

A circus clown once accused me of eating his pet gerbil. “Gorilla Bananas ate my gerbil” was the line he gave people who noticed the gerbil was missing. I knew at once that denying this absurd story would be undignified and counterproductive. “He who denied it, supplied it” was a popular saying of the time. So I responded with satire, putting up a succession of gerbil recipes on my trailer door. Here are some of those dishes:

Roast gerbil with parsnips and carrots

Southern fried gerbil with sweet potatoes and corn

Smoked gerbil with runner beans and wild mushrooms

Stir-fried gerbil in yellow bean sauce with rice noodles

Gerbil stew with broad beans and shallots

People soon got bored of hearing about gerbil main courses and started accusing the clown of being my stooge in a comedy routine. This upset him so much that he went to a psychiatrist to get over the loss of his pet. Under hypnosis, the clown revealed that he’d trodden on the gerbil by mistake and thrown its squashed carcass into a cement mixer. The memory of this event was so painful that he’d repressed it, substituting the false story involving me. I forgave him the calumny because he’d genuinely convinced himself of its truth. One must show compassion to the mentally unhinged whenever possible.

If I were Britney’s manager, I’d tell her to stop responding to the gossip sheets and take control the debate herself. No one will speculate about her appetite for bushy-tailed rodents if she gives them juicy titbits from the filly’s mouth. A confession is worth more than a hundred second-hand stories.

Christina Aguilera is one who has
adopted this strategy, recently declaring that she feels irresistibly sexy in the nude and would rather see pictures of naked women than naked men. Unlike the Britney-eats-squirrel story, this is entirely credible and gives the reader useful information in relatively few words. It also diverts attention from Christina’s dietary habits, whatever they may be.

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