Where’s the fun in any of that? Wouldn’t old socialist Uncle Joe look better wearing that bowl of mashed potatoes on his head? How about using SJW nephew Chauncey’s nose to plow some new furrows in the vegetable garden?
If I had a nephew named Chauncey I wouldn’t even show up for the damn meal in the first place.
A Quarter-pounder with Cheese beats sitting across the table from someone named “Chauncey”.