Memos from Bear Cave: The Good Son

This article is part of the Memos from Bear Cave series.

TO: All Employees of Bear Cave Soup Co.
DATE: December 21, 1979
SUBJECT: My true son is almost here

I have just received word from Ðâng Lành, who was tasked with extracting my son from Arkansas and bringing him here, that their arrival is imminent.

I don't want my new son seeing a bunch of lousy jerks twiddling their thumbs and worrying about useless rockabilly invalids crying in ditches. I want him to see the most efficient, cutthroat and feared soup company in North America. There's a reason Augusto Pinochet writes to me for advice on both soup and management. You cow-eyed doughbabies need to step up your game.

I have had Manuel Rodriguez padlock the restrooms and kitchen. Nobody is to leave their desks until I say so.

TO: Tall Charlie
DATE: December 21, 1979
SUBJECT: Last Minute Errand

I need you to take Bouillon to some kind of dog grooming establishment or salon. Spare no expense making him look presentable. I have a garbage bag with all the loose parts that keep falling off. See if they can glue or sew them back on.

Be careful getting him out of the building. He's oozing puss and blood and without a lower jaw, there's nothing holding the drool back. I don't want the carpets sullied.

TO: Tall Charlie
DATE: December 21, 1979
SUBJECT: WHAT DID YOU DO

Where did you take Bouillon and why the hell does he have a perm? I appreciate that they taped his jaw back on but he looks like some kind of disgusting eurotrash abomination. I don't want my new son thinking I consort with pampered dogs. Take Bouillon out and drag him through the mud, or dunk him in the mushroom chowder vat out in the soupyard until he looks like a dog again.

TO: All Employees of Bear Cave Soup Co.
DATE: December 21, 1979
SUBJECT: I'm Finished

As many of you are aware, my new son arrived. As many of you are also aware, he couldn't possibly have been a bigger disappointment. Somehow I have sired not one, but two no-good rockabillies. And this one, god damn it all to hell, is an even bigger shiftless rockabilly than the last. It took all of my energy just to keep myself from having Ðâng Lành gut him right then and there. In keeping with my wishes, Ðâng Lành has disappeared the rotten failure to someplace far away where I will never ever encounter him again.

You are all to remain busy today. Nobody is to approach me or attempt to enter my office. I'm too busy pointing a loaded gun at my head to deal with your petty problems.

Have a Merry Christmas.

– Josh "Livestock" Boruff (@Livestock)