05/05/2026
And now, a word from
"Phil, the Chest freezer" here at TREE....
Phil, the empty chest freezer, hummed quietly in the corner, lid slightly ajar like he was waiting for someone to finally take him seriously.
“People look at me and think I’ve got it easy,” Phil began, his voice a low, frosty grumble. “Just sit here, stay cold, mind my business. But no one talks about the grocery bill for all of these wild critters!"
He paused, as if letting the number sink in.
“Fifteen thousand dollars a year. That’s what it takes to keep me stocked with frozen mice alone. Mice! Not filet mignon, not lobster—mice. Do you have any idea how many that is? I do. I see them. I hold them. It’s a lifestyle.”
A faint creak echoed as his lid shifted.
“And then there’s the fish. Over 2,000 pounds a year. Two. Thousand. Pounds. I’m not a freezer anymore—I’m a marine warehouse with emotional baggage.”
Phil sighed, a soft compressor kick.
“Sometimes I sit here empty, and honestly? It’s peaceful. No pressure. No expectations. Just me and my frost buildup. But the moment I’m full again, it’s back to business. Stacked tail to snout, fin to fin. It’s a lot to carry—literally and financially.”
He went quiet for a beat, then added:
“I’m not saying I’m underappreciated… but if anyone wants to chip in for the mouse fund, I wouldn’t object.”
To help fill Phil, please check us out at:
https://www.givelocal757.org/organization/tidewater-rehabilitation-and-environmental-education
