A procession of one descended gaudily from silver-sepia heights, down the Appian Way (formerly known as Spring Street Hill, prior to being paved with taxpayer gold) and steered a firm path toward the polished administrative edifice of Hauss Citadel, where a crisply attired throng awaited, carefully pruning their sacred rubber stamps.
Fully armored, complete with diamond-studded breastplate and 24-carat plumed helmet, the man approached civic destiny amid much clanking and clanging of iron and steel -- and very nearly leveled the local soothsayer known as Shirtless Marvin, who pondered the centurion from his vantage point splayed atop the sidewalk.
"Are you completely fucked up on crystal meth," asked Marvin, "Or is it me?"
"Varlot! How dare you walk these sidewalks naked."
"Isn't that what they're for?"
“Silence, shirtless! Your subsidized housing ilk repels me, for it is I – Tiberius Severus Octavian Elagabalus Septimius Augustus Claudius Hadrian CeeSaw, the Protector of Pearl, Deliverer of all Downtown Datedness, Master of the Mercantile, and Guardian of the Gates. I have embarked on a valiant campaign against invading barbarian hordes, as well as that upstart Vic Megenity, who shall not be permitted to topple my -- I mean, our -- bicentennial apple cart with his scandalous accusations."
"Wait a minute," gasped Marvin. "You're that nutzoid one-way jewelry guy, right?"
"I AM THAT I AM," thundered CeeSaw, menacingly waving his Latinate scroll. "We will meet Megenity on the plains, and in the forests, and in the streets, and out behind the floodwall, and next to wherever Emery Ice Cream is now."
Marvin mopped his brow. "I'm not from here, you know."
"That's unfortunate," gurgled CeeSaw. "Neither is Megenity. One must possess pure unblemished native New Albanian blood to be invited to the bicentennial ice cream social. Perhaps you would consider relocating, say, to Cannelton?"
---
In other news, there'll be no aw-dit of Bob Caesar's plaything ... but at least he abstained from the otherwise unanimous vote against the council compelling itself to pay attention to projects pursued by the city's best and brightest, who as we have learned, can be trusted to ... aw, whatever. Can we just fast forward to 2113?
Daniel Suddeath's newspaper coverage of the June 3 city council meeting is here.
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1 comment:
This would be even funnier than it is if there were not so much truth to it.
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