Years ago, way before your bubbe met your grandpa, a bunch of meshengeners schlepped all the way across the ocean. Oy, it was a cold and long journey, they were covered in shmutz and the kevetching didn’t stop till they reached America. Now as I said, this was a very long time ago, so even though they were starving, there wasn’t a decent diner anywhere! There was bupke! What did a pilgrim have to do to get a little nosh? “I’ll just sit here and starve to death,” they thought, “no, no don’t get just bagels on account of me!”
Luckily, some of the pilgrims with a bit more chutzpah shmoozed these nice Indians they met. They broke the ice by passing around pictures of their grandsons and the Indians agreed that they really did have shayna punams. Once that was settled, these menches invited the pilgrims over for dinner and some kibbitzing. They all sat their tuches down together for a lovely meal. Everyone pretended it was kosher.
And that’s the whole speil.