Thursday, July 12, 2007

To the Exalted Mayor of Bethville


My Dearest Mayor of Bethville,

I was so sorry to hear of the Bethville resident losses. I hoped the Benville Professional Golfing Team and Amateur Crochet Association members would arrive in time to at least save the Bethville baker. He made the most wonderful strudel. I’m sending this letter along with several of my personal houseplants. Each comes with a name, personalized sunning attire, rations for the next 3 or 4 weeks, and portable living quarters. They should keep you company until the population can be replenished. They keep to themselves mostly. A few loud mouths in the bunch, but for the most part they are quite entertaining. Watch Reggie though, he has a bad habit of hiding your car keys whenever you absentmindedly set them down someplace.

Each one of my houseplants comes with its own personalized watering can as well, but unfortunately I’m going to have to hold on to those. The parade clydesdales got into the Benville Town Hall fountain last night and completely drained it. They’ve been "watering the lawn" for the last 4 or 5 hours and the chlorine is making the grass turn neon green. We used every single bucket, tin can, tea kettle, crock pot, milk carton, coal scuttle, coffee cup, cereal bowl, water balloon, bronze cauldron, glass bottle, beaker, canteen, Mason jar, bedpan, buffalo bladder, and plastic bag we can find, and they’re still flowing like beer at an Oktoberfest. At least the trail makes them easy to find when we lose one.

More news on the cunning Mr. Damon, it seems our plan to leave him space-bound failed. He was spotted descending 2 miles north of Bayleyonia. I contacted the Mayor of Bayleyonia shortly after receiving the news, and thankfully they have Mr. Damon in custody. According to their interrogators, he cleverly concealed several lawn darts in his socks before starting his ascent to space. For now, he’ll be kept in the Bayleyonia community dungeon where he’ll be forced to eat mushroom and rye sandwiches and watch nothing but movies from the 1940s. I’m satisfied for now...it sounds horrible, almost as bad as the silent western and force-fed banana flavored food torture of Floydopolis.

Again, I do express my deepest sympathy at the loss of your population my dear mayor. I’ll reschedule the Benville Ahlzheimer’s Ward Blackout Bingo Night to be held in Bethville instead. None of the Ahlzheimer’s Ward patients should remember how to get back, so please consider them Bethville residents. They are very kind people and are never afraid to offer you a grape soda. The only drawback is you have to introduce yourself repeatedly, so building a relationship with any of them is nearly impossible.

Please stay in touch, and please pick up the place a bit would you? All those bodies and broken clubs laying everywhere kind of hinder the whole retro mood you were going for when you designed the place.

Regards,

The Urinarily Overwhelmed and Agriculturally Dramatic Mayor of Benville

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