If you’re not a raccoon named Cole who got drunk, went on a bender through the aisles of a liquor store in Virginia before doing a full sploot pass-out in the bathroom, then don’t take it personally that this bit of prose isn’t for you. If you are that raccoon, then my brother; I salute you. You did what so many of us have felt like doing for the past several months, and because you’re a cute and fuzzy woodland critter, you got away with it.
I don’t know what specifically led you to start drinking the people booze in the first place, but I get it, m’dude. 2025 has been a doozy for all creatures on the earth, man and beast alike. Between kicking things off in January with a massive fire in L.A. to finally telling Uncle Gary at Thanksgiving that he has to stop saying that word (you know the one) if he still wants to be welcome at my mom’s table… I too wish I could take a leaf out of your book and get trashed directly at the source before being taken to a safe recovery zone where a team of caregivers helps me sober up before lovingly putting me back where I belong.
Sidenote: how does one start belonging to the woods outside of town? Asking for a friend.
You wrecked the kind of havoc that most co-eds would find themselves in handcuffs over, but instead of winding up in critter jail, you’ve become a social media icon. Not quite as famous as Moo Deng, so you’ll still be able to enjoy the privacy necessary for shenanigans involving the dumpster behind that one gas station where they dump the leftover burritos at the end of the day. You will want to watch out for Sharon on night shift though, I hear she’s become a devoted fan of yours. If you see a cup of beer out on the sidewalk after dark? No judgement if you decide to drink it, but be warned that she’s probably snapping pictures of your tiny raccoon hands holding on to the cup.
Cole the raccoon, I hope that the hangover was worth the drunken rampage through the liquor store. You blazed a trail of glory that is the envy of frat boys everywhere, and you should be proud of that legacy. On behalf of people everywhere who are frantically searching for the energy to smile and play nice with our racist great aunt so she’ll fork over the rum ball recipe already, we salute you. As we move into this season of “do all the things with a smile while hiding that you’re seriously overstimulated by the flashing lights and sounds of jingle bells everywhere,” I just want for someone to let you know that you’re the real hero here. Seriously, sir. Bravo. Maybe take it easy on the booze during your next rampage though? I don’t want your little raccoon liver to experience cirrhosis when you still have so much life to live.
You’re an inspiration, Cole. Thank you for providing us all with a much needed laugh (aside from the liquor store owners… I’m sure your antics came with a hefty price tag on their end).
Give my love to your fellow trash pandas,
Hazel
