Dear Uncle Sam,
The war on Independence Day is at hand. Those damn liberals keep wishing me a "Happy 4th". Happy 4th? Happy 4th piece of chicken? What is that?
My neighbor has to be the most liberal of them all. He believes that if you want to buy fireworks you might as well wad some cash up and set fire to it. What a traitor! He thinks patriotism is wearing one of those Old Navy t-shirts with the flag on them, but I believe that is desecration of the flag. After all he's a fat, bald, ugly guy with a lot of body hair. Nobody wants to see our flag look like that.
Traditionally, I always show my patriotism by beginning the festivities on July 1. After all, Independence Day is so important that I believe we should celebrate it for at least 1 week. My neighbor, unpatriotic bastard that he is, has the balls to ask me to save it until the 4th, and calls the cops reporting me for using illegal fireworks and disturbing the peace. Note to neighbor: if the fireworks weren't illegal they wouldn't sell them. Maybe he's just pissed off that one of my ground blooming flowers caused his car to explode last year. It wasn't my fault that he had gas leaking from his car. Maybe he should have gotten that fuel line checked.
So I spend all year saving my money so I can show my patriotism by having the best fireworks display this side of New York. So every July 1st I go out to the local Indian reservation to visit Chief Big Boom and fill all of my cars with as many different bottle rockets and exploding missiles as I can. That's not even counting all of the mail order packages that came in from Mexico and China during May and June. I also visit the gun shop and load up on shotgun shells, but I'll get to that later.
Then, I sit in my front yard in my folding lawn chair for the next 3 days doing what all patriotic Americans do: drinking my cooler full of Budweiser so I can feel just right when it comes time to put on my fireworks display. Nothing makes fireworks more spectacular than a few beers in your system.
So when the big night comes, I make sure to have my rock concert quality amp and speakers set up on the front lawn. I get started a little later than everyone else, because I prefer to wait until it's nice and dark, say around 11:00pm. So I go outside and yell, "It's Independence Day, get up off yer ass and show some respect for the good old red, white and blue." Then I play the Star Spangled Banner on my stereo system at its highest volume to make sure everyone in the neighborhood can show some respect, raising my can of Bud high into the air. Then I play my CD of patriotic American songs on an endless loop.
After 2 ½ hours, I sadly run short of fireworks and break out my shotgun. What would Independence Day be without a little gunfire? After all, shots were fired on that day back in 1776. So I fire off a bunch of rounds into the air, in memory of our departed brothers of the revolution. Inevitably, the police get called somewhere in the midst of my gorgeous display of patriotism. I don't know why, but I suspect that infidel next door who doesn't have an ounce of patriotism in his body is the one who called the cops.
Despite all of this trouble, I swear to you that next year will be the biggest, best Independence Day ever. It has to be bigger and better if I'm going to convert some more of these infidels into true believers.
Your patriotic nephew,
Little Bang Bang (my Native American friends gave me that name along with a free M-80)