Fandom High Office, Monday, June 13th

"No. No, you may not ride the moose. You may not wrangle, lasso, corral or capture the moose. You will not put that thing around his neck, you will not place your ass upon that back, you will not touch a hair on that poor thing's head. This moose is not for catching, he is an untouchable island, he is our gargoyle that stands watch in the night, the banner under which we do battle. He is the alpha and the omega of our world, the disk upon which the universe spins-- this moose is magic, tapdancin' down the streets at two in the morning, he is our heart and our soul, the very stuff of Fandom's-- knuckles--, the tail of our tale, the belly of our beast, and I say to you now and into the infinity he represents: you will you will not ride the moose!"

The cowboy held up his hands.

"How 'bout the calf, then?"

"Let me summarise: OUT!"