Weevilfest

In other news…I have to organize an annual professional gathering.

It’s fun, in the same way that coordinating a sock hop for Weevils would be fun.

For those of you who don’t watch Torchwood, this is a Weevil:



Weevils generally aren’t very pleasant, unless you’re the King of the Weevils. But I really doubt any of you are the King of the Weevils. Well, maybe Hoagy is. Even though I’ve never met Hoagy, I bet Hoagy has Weevil King potential. And I imagine that Jayne could charm the Weevils into submission, perhaps by playing a soothing tune on a ukulele. But the rest of you lot, well, should you ever encounter a Weevil, I’m sure you’d be promptly eaten.

Anyway….

Once a year, I have to invite a group of Weevils to an event. If it were completely up to me, I’d only invite 5 or 6 Weevils, to keep the gathering intimate and reduce the number of Tasers needed to keep order. But the Powers that Be dictate that we must invite at least a dozen Weevils, so no one gets their feelings hurt because they weren’t included.

So, I compile a list and send out e-mail invitations, following up by phone a few days later to those who haven’t responded. Aside from the fact they like to consume human flesh, some of the Weevils are actually decent folk and RSVP quickly, delighted that they are being asked to the dance.

Others start whining immediately.

“What other Weevils are being invited? Who has confirmed? What is their rank? Do they like white meat or dark?”

::sigh::

I go back and forth with these folks, gritting my teeth and biting my tongue so I don’t blurt out “Look, we don’t really want you there anyway. It doesn’t matter who else was invited. Either you come or you don’t. I. DON’T. CARE.”

Now that I think about it, maybe it’s more like a Weevil wedding than a sock hop. I have to make sure a photographer will be on hand to capture the magic, and make sure food and drink has been secured. Maybe this year I’ll even order corsages for everyone too. ‘Cause there’s nothing prettier than a Weevil with a poesy.

Oh, joy.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to go buy a frock so I look all fancy for the party. Yee-haw.