Forrest Dwelling Bearskin Capped Eastern European Collaborationists

I just love everything there is about my delightful little neighborhood…but I think the guy next door is a Nazi war criminal. The evidence, which I’m sure you’ll find convincing, is as follows.

1) Resilient European Tendencies: This man and his wife have a way of sitting about and enjoying the day which I find particularly alarming. There’s something about their overly worn lawn furniture, wine grape trellis and meticulously ironed clothing that just doesn’t seem to lend itself to normal suburban living. They smile to much, and I think I remember her arm resting on his while they spoke. Believe me, I’ll be looking into these things.

2) Longevity: These people seem very old and yet remarkably healthy, and not in that patriotic old-people-propped-up-on-pharmaceuticals sort of way either. People with clear consciences enjoy their elderly years, but so do those without a conscience. And part of the reason there’s so many strudel shops in French Guyana is that this same agedness preys on our capacity to seek, and therefore grant, redemption through personal enlightenment. Which in turn, of course, provides the perfect camouflage for a sick death camp butcher.

3) Mailbox Lettering: There are far to many Cs, Js and double vowels in their name that send normal tongues somersaulting during pleasantries. Now if the newly immigrated simply want to save a few Rubles or Kopeks or whatever at Home Depot by purchasing decal lettering from the bargain bin that’s one thing, but all these consonants are bound to remind a civilized person of that funny a/u/e sound Europeans make when they’re mispronouncing Treblinka or Birkeneau.

Anyway, I’m not saying we should string these two up or anything, but if I see any lederhosen on the clothes line I’m rushin’ the place with granddaddy’s Confederate sword, that’s all.