Elmer Thomas Elmo’s prognostication raises eyebrows

Elmer Thomas Elmo says this will be his hugest year. Ever.

Elmo, dean of the prairie dog prognosticators in the park, on Thursday announced plans for an international tour of his comedy and music show, “A Prairie Dog Home Companion” that he said will leave Taylor Swift’s “Eras” tour in the dust. And Elmo knows a thing or two about dust.

Elmo, who makes his weather predictions on Feb. 1 to steal a march of Punxsutawny Phil, promised the tour will set record after record and put Elmer Thomas Park on the entertainment map.

“You know, it was my idea to build an amphitheater out here,” he said between bites of Cheetos. “If you build it, they will come. You know, I don’t think anyone ever said that before. It has a nice ring. Write that down,” he said to a harried aide who was busy transcribing Elmo’s thoughts.

But the amphitheater is just the beginning. His plan is to take the show to much larger venues, such as Arrowhead Stadium, Ron Stephens Stadium, the Target parking lot and the municipal landfill.

“The area is starving for this kind of entertainment,” Elmo said as he glowered at another aide who was wrestling — unsuccessfully — with a battered banjo in an attempt to coax a tune from it — “and no one knows the business better than I do.”

He fished what appeared to be a Sonic receipt from his briefcase.

“My polling shows that I am more popular than Donald Trump, Joe Biden and Taylor Swift,” he told the crowd of reporters who were more interested in being outside on a 70-degree day than in hearing Elmo’s deep thoughts.

But that last statement turned some heads.

“How can that be possible?” asked a rookie reporter attempting to fact-check Elmo in real time.

The glowering intensified.

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but you’re obviously an enemy of the people, a fascist, communist liberal fake news vermin who wants to take our Cheetos and let a flood of hawks through the park border.”

The hurricane of insults had its desired effect. The reporter slunk to the back of the crowd and grabbed a jelly doughnut before heading off to the playground for a more important story.

“Yessir, this is the biggest deal of all big deals. My ‘Epoch’ tour will break all the records. There’ll be merchandising, fast food and snack cake marketing, you name it. And of course a big chunk will go to charity to support the unfortunate dogs who were taken from Second Street and shipped to the refuge, where they are plagued by mountain lions and grizzly bears.”

Who would actually pay to see Elmo on stage?

“Everyone,” he said. “Kids, old folks, artsy types, teachers, you name it. Except snakes. No snakes.”

Elmo declined to perform for the cameras.

“No, you don’t get a free sample. You gotta pay like everybody else.”

How does anyone know he can sing or do anything that people might pay to see?

“Look, if I said I can sing, I can sing. Simple. You guys are so dense.”

Elmo saw the reporters were beginning to drift away.

“Wait,” he cried. “I’ll give you just a taste.”

He then launched into a monolog apparently lifted from “1,001 Dad Jokes” and “An Unfunny Guide to Underground Humor.”

At that the crowd dissipated like powdered sugar from a frosted doughnut in the Oklahoma wind.

“If you leave now, you won’t hear my spring forecast,” he shouted. The rookie report, who hadn’t learned his lesson yet, rushed back. Breathlessly, he held out his microphone.

“Well, after studying long-term long-term climate trends and the number of Ding Dong wrappers left in the park, “Spring will be early, unless it’s late or on time.”

Elmo disappeared into his burrow, signaling the conclusion of another non-news event.

But customers at the Lakeside Bar and Graze were able to provide some background.”

“A tour, huh?” one of the patron said as he paused from slurping his dandelion Freezee. “That’s a new one, I figured he’s tried every scam in the book, but this takes the cake.”

As usual, it seems Elmo is short of cash after betting a bundle on the Baltimore Ravens in the AFC championship game, which came after a disastrous loss from his wagers on the Cowboys-Lions game.

“Apparently Elmo is one of the few folks in the country who haven’t learned to bet against the Cowboys,” a diner said as he dug into a platter of Prairie Pickin’s, a best seller at the diner.

“He’s been out of a job” for a while, the first prairie dog said. “He applied to be new president of Cameron University, but that didn’t work out when the screeners learned that he had, uh, padded his resume with six doctorates from the University of the Southern Prairie — which isn’t even a thing — and was turned down by the state Department of Education for a job there. You know how they are about furries.”

“He’s broke and needs money quick to pay off his bookie, so he’s trying to raise money to back his show tour,” the second prairie dog said. “It’s a long row to hoe because hardly anyone trusts Elmo if there’s more than a nickel involved.”

The waiter broke out laughing when a reporter passed on Elmo’s claim that he’s more popular than Trump, Biden or Swift.

“That’s a good one,” he said. “Rumor is that the poll was conducted by two of Elmo’s cousins and they interviewed six of Elmo’s tenants and recommended they answer the right way, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s what I heard too,” said another diner. “All my friends says he’s about as popular in the park as a coyote who hasn’t eaten in a week.”