Monday, February 3rd. The morning after Groundhog Day.
Inside Phil’s burrow in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, in the Gobbler’s Knob part of town.
Interviewer:
Hi Phil, it’s an honor to meet you.
Phil:
Yeah, thanks for coming by.
Interviewer:
So Phil, I came to discuss the annual tradition that took place yesterday. I want to start by asking, is it true? Can you really predict the weather?
Phil:
Oh, for sure. I mean, maybe. Truthfully, I can’t remember what I did last night.
Phil looks down and kicks a bottle under the table. The interviewer chuckles awkwardly.
Interviewer:
Right. My second question regards your title, “Punxsutawney Phil.” Let’s see… It says here that the name was coined in 1961, but the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club’s Inner Circle claims that you’ve been predicting the weather for almost 140 years! Tell us, Phil, how old are you?
Phil:
That’s gotta be a joke. Man, do they really say that? Yeah, no, I’m like, two. And between you and me, I’m not trying to make it to three.
The interviewer shifts uncomfortably in his chair.
Interviewer:
Alright. And, uh, how did they choose you for the job?
Phil:
Job? Some job. D’you know what they call coerced labor without pay? It starts with-
Phil thinks for a second. (Groundhogs aren’t very good at spelling.) Instead, he sounds it out.
‘Sl’ and ends with ‘avery.’
Female Groundhog (Presumably Avery):
Yeah?
The interviewer is caught off guard; he didn’t know she was there. Phil didn’t know she was still there. Phil mumbles some ‘Nunbabygobacktobed.’
Phil:
Oh yeah, I don’t know how I got here, but if you find the jerk responsible for this, send him my way.
He holds up two tightly clenched fists. They’re remarkably small.
Interviewer:
Okay. I have to ask. Why do you hate your job so much?
Phil’s leg starts bouncing under the table. His gaze darts frantically around the room, and he avoids eye contact with the interviewer.
Phil:
That’s personal. That’s- that’s none of your business, is what that is.
Interviewer:
Wait. Is it your-
Phil:
Don’t say it.
Interviewer:
Shadow?
The interviewer tries to conceal his giggle. Phil is visibly shaken.
Phil:
Shut up shut up shut up is it here?
Phil is shutting his eyes and covering his ears. (Yes, groundhogs have ears; very small ones at the top of their heads.)
Interviewer:
…What?
Phil:
That thing, the thing you said- did you see it?
Interviewer:
No, no, I don’t see it.
Phil:
You really had to go there. Okay, I get it. Get out of my burrow now.
Interviewer:
Wait! Please, Phil. I’m sorry. I won’t mention it again. Promise. I just have one more question.
Phil grumbles.
Interviewer:
Your prediction. Based on the fact that you saw your- …I mean, the results from yesterday, you think that there’s going to be 6 more weeks of winter weather. What do you think of that?
Phil:
Why the hell should I care? I’m staying in here until they drag me out next year.
Interviewer:
Come on, Phil! Don’t you like winter? It can be so beautiful! I mean, it’s snowing, look!
The interviewer opens the curtains (This groundhog burrow has a window.) Light shines in. Phil senses a presence behind him. Slowly, with shaking breath and rigid, twitching movements, he turns his head to face his shadow.
Phil:
AAAAAH
