Lost Gods
an excerpt

"First Nations," interjected Coyote. Kanene looked perplexed. "Sorry, Kanene. It's just that, while most Politically Correct phrases are garbage, First Nations really does describe my people better than Indian. I mean, we can't make a curry to save our lives." He looked at us levelly. "It's true, my reservation once had an Indian day. We wore traditional saris and dhotis, performed dances to honour Vishnu, the whole deal. As the finale, we had a curry cook-off. We actually invited a bunch of Indian Indians, you know, not cowboys and Indians Indians, but South-East Asians? Anyhow, a bunch of them to judge our curry. They found every one we made to be completely inedible. Now, a pemmican curry, sure, you might think that it sounds like a good idea, but in that, you would be wrong." He got a far off look in his eye, remembering the event. "Thinking back, the problem might have been that we invited the owners of an Indian restaurant as judges. That might have been a mistake. Expectations were too high." He returned to his food, leaving Kanene and I speechless.