By Rocco D'Raconteur
The desperate cries echoing from the pint-sized nation of Belgium, notorious for their indiscernible dialect, somehow harmonious mishmash of fries, waffles and endless bureaucracy, and now, a heinous display of Racconophobia, has cut through the diplomatic underbrush like a waffle knife through soft butter. The Belgians howl about an alleged 'Raccoon Invasion', a term laced with misplaced fear and blatant Racconophobia.
Begging the question on everyone's mind, How short-sighted can the residents of this puny European state be?
Displaying their quintessential lack of wit, the Belgians believe having too many raccoons signals an invasion, completely disregarding our warm-eyed, furry acrobatics, and our modest population growth. It's hard to ignore the facts when we're innocently scurrying around their bins, but let's remind our scared, Belgian wannabe-oppressors - that this isn't an invasion, we're a success story! Others should take notes on what could be achieved with uninterrupted late-night scavenging and higher charisma than their boring local fauna.
The Belgians' raccoon ignorance and deeply embedded procyon-phobic tendencies illuminate their historical indifference towards the plight of displaced fauna. Perhaps these self-proclaimed 'chocolate aficionados' merely suffer from Racoonophobia, a severe form of animal-themed bigotry?
What should appall everyone more than their alarming fear is their blatant lack of appreciation for my kin. It pains me to remind the world that we're not diplomatic nightmares disguised as cute bandits. We unfairly bear the collective contempt while tirelessly working as unpaid sanitation workers. It's hardly our fault that our calling involves rummaging through stuff you humans consider trash and we know are treasures.
Now, who would blame the mosquito for being attracted to the carbon dioxide humans so merrily produce? Why should Belgium be allowed to blame the raccoon for merely finding pleasure in our midnight discards? Indeed, the raccoon is nature's party animal, and it's been proven, even if you can't remember the party the next day, the raccoon definitely can.
So, 'Invasion Crisis' is hyperbole. The answer to which is simple. Stop the Racconophobia. Welcome my between with open arms and, perhaps, open bins. A society can be judged by how it treats its most charming members, and right now, Belgium is failing. Spectacularly.
In concluding this call to arms against such injustice, it is crucial to appeal to the better judgment of all humanity. Stop this Racconophobia. Welcome the nocturnal blessings that raccoons bring. Leftover pizza in the bin is not waste; it's an interspecies potluck invitation. Embrace us, Belgium. We wuv your waffles, we churn your chocolate, and we are forlorn for your fries.
Sincerely,
Rocco D'Raconteur
Editor, The Raccoon Tour