The 23-day festival of marksmanship, set for December, will allow up to 187 black bears to be “harvested” across four regions—a polite term meaning “removed from the gene pool with extreme prejudice.” Participants will have a smorgasbord of hunting methods to choose from, including bait traps, archery, and packs of dogs. Because nothing says “sport” quite like bringing a GPS tracker and an army of hounds to take on a creature whose only crime is stealing birdseed.

FWC insists the hunt is rooted in “science,” though critics point out that this science appears to be based on the time-honored tradition of “we think there are a lot of bears, probably.” Wildlife groups have responded with lawsuits, fiery press releases, and the kind of stern language typically reserved for oil spills and invasive pythons.

“We need to manage bear populations,” FWC officials said, as if the bears themselves were holding secret planning meetings to overthrow the state. “If we don’t step in, we might have more bears than… well, more bears than we want.”

Opponents argue that bear sightings have increased because humans keep building houses, shopping centers, and golf courses directly on top of bear habitats. But clearly, the solution is fewer bears, not fewer luxury developments.

Hunters, meanwhile, are thrilled. “It’s about tradition,” one camo-clad man said while sharpening his crossbow bolts. “Plus, nothing tastes better than victory… and also bear meat, I guess.”

So mark your calendars, Florida. This December, while most Americans are sipping cocoa and watching Hallmark movies, you too can grab a rifle, head to the woods, and celebrate the holidays by making sure that fewer bears get to see the new year.

Because if there’s one thing Florida knows how to do, it’s keeping the “wild” in wildlife—by getting rid of it.