St Weevil's Day is one of the more extravagant holidays celebrated by the Church of the True Weevil. It is also the only holiday celebrated by the church to date. It is held on August 12 and attendance grows every year.

Origins of St Weevil's Day

One hundred and fifty years ago, in the rugged mountains and forests of the Appalachians, there once lived a colony of Appalachian Fodder Weevils. These poor little weevils led difficult lives, what with food being a bit scarce in winter and having to negotiate the rugged mountain terrain with their little weevil feet. They were also preyed upon by the ruffed grouse that arrived every summer to nest in the forest.

Of all the troubles in their troubled little weevil lives, the grouse frightened them the most. They couldn't understand why the grouse would want to bring harm to their friendly little colony, particularly in the form of catching and eating them. Every year, as summer approached they grew more and more anxious over the imminent arrival of the dreaded grouse. This went on for many years. Poor little Fodder weevils.

Then, on August 12, 1788, as the fluttering of arriving grouse echoed through the forest, one of the weevils suddenly cried out, "I think I'm going to go try something drastic, as I'm rather tired of us being eaten each year". And off he marched into the forest, in plain sight of any nearby grouse that happened to be watching.

"Oh, you must come back!", cried his little weevil companions. "You must come back and hide with us or you will surely be eaten by the grouse, who seem to like us but not in a way in which we approve".

But the bold little weevil kept marching right across the forest floor until he disappeared out of sight. Soon after, the sudden flapping of wings in the distance told the weevils that their friend had come to a sticky end. That night, they hardly touched their meagre corn syrup rations and tossed and turned in their tiny beds, so upset were they.

The next morning, all the weevils awoke to a great flapping of wings. They wiped the sleeps out of their eyes and poked their heads out from under their hiding rock. They could scarce believe their eyes. There, in the clearing immediately in front of their humble camp, was their plucky weevil pal, unscathed and looking not a little pleased with himself. Eight ruffed grouse stood behind, towering over him.

"Oh, Heavens!", cried the weevils to their friend. "Watch out! There are grouse right behind you and you are sure to be eaten!"

The lone weevil replied, "Fret not, my weevil brethren, for I have spoken with the grouse and have convinced them not to eat us anymore. I have invited them back to our camp so we can celebrate this glorious turn of events".

As you can probably guess, the little weevils were speechless. How on earth could one bold little weevil not only face the grouse alone but also befriend them? This was the most amazing thing any weevil in their colony had ever done.

So all the weevils came out into the open bearing gifts of rocks and mud and upon receiving these gifts, the grouse graciously decorated their camp with colourful droppings (possibly berries of some kind). A great party was begun and lasted long into the night. There was dancing, singing, and even swimming in a nearby puddle. Some of the grouse even gave rides for weevils brave enough for the experience (most weevils can't fly).

But the little weevil never told anyone how he managed to change the grouses' attitudes towards them. Nobody minded, though because he was just kind of like that sometimes, and so they named him St Weevil, the first weevil of their colony to have any kind of name (names weren't very important to the weevils up until this point).

And every summer since that time, the grouse arrive and there is a great party to commemorate the day when one brave little weevil significantly altered their universe in a good and interesting way.

Celebration of St Weevil's Day

What began as a simple celebration involving pebbles, sticks and bird droppings has evolved a great deal. Today, weevils all over the world celebrate St Weevil's Day with their friends, which now include human beings.

Weevils are pretty easy-going and have embraced several changes to the celebration over the years. The gathering place has moved out of the forest and onto the beach, which is more appealing to the humans. Although the grouse still show up each and every year, they tend to stay off to one side, mingling only with the weevils since no grouse has yet successfully convinced humans to change their attitude toward grouse.

The celebration has grown in magnitude over time and nowadays almost always ends with the helpful assistance of local law enforcement officers.

The festivities still begin with the exchanging of gifts. Although any gift can be given, the most common gifts are marzipan gin, digestive biscuits and small vials of corn syrup. If you know anything about weevils, you know that there's certainly nothing wrong with that.

The food consumed at the celebration typically includes marmite sandwiches, winegums, and whisky (which helps to break down the winegums and accentuates the delicate flavourings of the marmite). The weevils tend to stick to digestive biscuits and corn syrup, but several will partake of a small dram or two of marzipan gin (they claim that it helps to break down the biscuits and accentuates the delicate flavourings of the corn syrup - we tend to humour them in that regard).

Many party-goers arrive in swimsuits (those that bleeding well feel like it) and provide human-rides out on the water for those weevils that are brave enough for the experience (most weevils can't swim).

Throughout the day, the makings for a large bonfire are constructed on the beach while trucks arrive carrying the fireworks for later on.

Then, just as the afternoon begins to approach evening, the magical part of the celebration commences. It is a recent addition to the festivities that, oddly enough, was conceived by the weevils themselves. Everyone gathers in circles around various campfires around the beach. Everything goes very quiet while the weevils march up the beach into the nearby scrub. Fifteen minutes later, out they come, dancing down the beach leading several score of hedgehogs whom the weevils have convinced to participate in a hedgehog-cuddling competition.

The hedgehogs spread out amongst the masses and everyone gets a turn cuddling an adorable little hedgehog whilst the weevils polish off any remaining marzipan gin. It's all very peaceful and stress-free and some idiot is playing an acoustic guitar somewhere.

Eventually, each person privately decides that they alone have won the cuddling competition and the ruffled little hedgehogs, none the worse for wear, saunter off into the woods again, each one thinking that they have won the cuddling competition. Then, with the help of twenty-three litres of gasoline, the bonfire literally explodes into life. The party is generally considered to have "shifted gears" at this point.

As both humans and weevils begin to dance widly around the bonfire, the flaming bridge of an acoustic guitar is used to ignite the fireworks and sirens can be heard in the distance.

Hundreds of humans and thousands of weevils, all dancing around a massive blazing inferno. Fireworks exploding in the sky above in quantities large enough to cause sonic dust plumes all across the beach. Colours and lights. Flame and explosions. Great plumes of smoke billowing upward. The police arrive.

The celebration is generally considered to be over at this point. The humans take their dizzy little weevils home and tuck them into their little weevil beds where they dream happy little weevil dreams, secure in the knowledge that next year's celebration will somehow be even more fun.