The holiday season is upon us, and it’s time to think of dancing and swilling! And, of course, along with the merriment, kenoza!

But first, a word about the Chicken Bowl. The Chicken, neither dead nor alive, must be placed in the Bowl in strict accordance with sacred ritual, and not be mentioned for 37 weeks in order to avoid devastating consequences. Now, on to the kenoza!

Although kenoza are the most intimate tools of Rindswille, their correct use is poorly understood. However, following these few simple guidelines will ensure a joyous holiday.

The kenoza are used every third year of the Hizzen Cycle during alternate spring rains. You may also use them during the autumnal equinox if you live in a bumpy area. There are 36 kenoza, numbered one through eight, skipping the seventh in remembrance of the Absence of Dwend. Each kenozum may be decorated as desired, but the missing seventh should always be the most ornate. They should be used by the whole family together, or with the first seven random strangers you encounter if you have renounced your family. They are to be prepared as follows.

Separate the kenoza into four piles. Sprinkle them with absinthe and bake them in a 400-degree oven along with a sprig of elderberry and three miggins of Klob each, for 48 seconds. Remove them from the oven, taking care that no one present utters any word of the Haksaka during and for three seconds before and after the removal process.

After they have cooled (but before the following Tuesday), they should be distributed according to the ancient tradition. One pile in the fireplace, one at the foot of the bed, one under the doormat, and the final (and most significant) in the coal bin. In modern homes without coal bins, simply place the last pile near a sack of potatoes.

Before any dancing can begin, and ensuring that there is no waning crescent moon, burn the first pile in the fireplace along with your Letter of Introduction. You may hum the Kenozati Canticles while doing this, but it is not required. When this is done and the ashes consumed by the family of voles living under the front porch, it is time to address the second pile. The usual address is 1326 North Lakeside Road, but you may use any address of your choosing, so long as it is undeliverable.

Now carefully lift the doormat by the northeast corner, taking care not to disturb the kenoza (especially the missing seventh), then slam it down as hard as you can. Gather the family (or the strangers) and take turns dancing on the doormat until there is nothing left of the kenoza. Now it’s time to eat the pudding, smash the bowls, and fling your shoes in the air. It is also a perfect time to sing the Kenozati Canticles as robustly as possible, taking care to use an undecipherable language.

By this time, you may be exhausted and confused, in perfect condition to mumble the third pile into animation. Everyone who has thus far participated should jump into the bed together and distribute themselves in as close an approximation of a heptagram as possible. Under each pillow there should be a portion of the Final Concoction. DO NOT EAT IT AT THIS TIME. As each weary participant is drifting off to dreamland, the kenoza at the foot of the bed will move to the elbow of the corresponding Uncle. Gently massage the kenozum nearest you, then fling it at the window until it breaks, and all the kenoza (except the missing seventh) are gone. If you awaken the next day, you may begin the long process of the Last Pile. It is very important that this last process be completed exactly as prescribed, and within 48 seconds.

Into the coal bin (or potato sack) you go, displacing kenoza along the way. Each participant should grab the nearest kenozum, and loudly recite the following incantation:

[Note: This section has been deleted in deference to ritual tradition]

There you have it; follow these few simple rules and you should avoid extermination at the next conjunction of Jupiter and Venus. Happy Rindswille!