Friday, July 13, 2007
To the Mayor of Bethville:
I am finally breaking my silence, because I have just seen the op-ed piece in the Bryan-BCL Daily Times Post Herald News Report informing readers of the recent terrible tragedy in Bethville. I felt it my duty as a public official to write on behalf of my constituents. Though, after this letter, I will once again refuse to acknowledge any attempts at contact by the Bethville mayoral office. While the citizens of Erikaford have, for the most part, ceased to be angry about the Mango-Bidet Incident, my chief of staff is adamant that we continue to refrain from engaging in any relations with your administration. And though she was far more offended by the entire incident than I was, I still give my full support to our bantam, coke, sprite, and unicorn embargo. I also insist that you remember you are not welcome in Erikaford. If you show up uninvited to our next county fair, which happens to be the Annual Pantsing and Bearbaiting Choral Night, not even another thirty diplomatic envoys from Tansalton will pardon you. I hope you will carefully remember what happened the last time you tried to sneak into one of our festivals behind a large picket sign that rather unconvincingly read, “Coke—it’s bad for you.” Our Municipal Litter Catalogers are still finding pieces of your mayoral limousine all over town. Tempers run high here. That being said, my letter is attached forthwith:
Erikaford is very sorry to hear that your town has been besieged by vultures, which have—-to put it delicately—-soiled the Bethville Lazy-Eye Victims Memorial and Waterslide Park and taken to roosting in your city hall offices.
(Some free practical advice from myself: Encouraging personal hygiene amongst your citizens, so that they don’t smell like rotten garbage, would have been a better use of your sanitation budget than buying that automatic bubblegum-scented street cleaning machine.)
With grudging sincerity,
The Mayor of Erikaford
"There is not much you can do to stop me."
-Erik Mays, founder of Erikaford
Thursday, July 12, 2007
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.
The Urinarily Overwhelmed and Agriculturally Dramatic Mayor of Benville
Monday, July 9, 2007
There is nothing I can write that will make this ad campaign any more horrendous...and kinda funny in a very, very sick way that makes me ashamed to laugh at now that I think about it. Check it out! White lead! The wave of the future! Use it in hospitals! No, really!
Friday, July 6, 2007
Most Life-Saving Mayor of Benville,
Thank you ever so much for the use of your Zombiegone and please present the enclosed golf sweaters and crochet clamps to the Benville citizens who rescued me. I would have delivered my gifts of thanks personally, but unfortunately my mayoral mechanic, Alphonse, was turned into a zombie and is now lying facedown on the front lawn of the Bethville Public Library and Craft Emporium with half of his brain eaten away. Terribly unfortunate as he was an excellent mechanic. Anyway, the only vehicle that is currently in working order is the mayoral tandem bicycle, which is dreadfully difficult to pedal by one's self.
As you can imagine, Mr. Mayor, I am quite bored and lonely here in Bethville. Not one of the other Bethville residents was spared during the zombie attack. I am reminded of the now infamous Bethville Inquisition of 1987. Fortunately, that time, new residents were bussed in from Floydopolis after it burned down in a tragic welding accident. I suppose I will have to rely on my own devices to repopulate Bethville alone.
That said, Mr. Mayor, I am very sorry to hear of your affliction with ill-timed humor. I was always curious to know why you thought it was so terribly hilarious to carry around an ice cream cone at the Bethville Lactose Intolerance Awareness Parade and Square Dance, offering bites to all the attendees and shrieking with laughter. I thought perhaps you had been down at the Bethville Schnapps Emporium beforehand.
Anyway, I must get back to the First Annual Bethville Lonely Movie Watching and Popcorn Eating. Do drop by one of these days.
The Very, Very, Very Lonely and Thankfully Sinus Congested Mayor of Bethville