http://www.votemayor.com/?p=240Elected Command: Bonk! Povertoid.“Mind turning on the lights, big guy?” requests Sammy, beginning to warm up his thin, bony shoulders. “My batting skills aren’t exactly meant for nocturnal exercise.”
“The knowledge of my presence is a working detail with which I wish to withhold.” states The Mayor. “Whack wisely.”
“Awright, but Miss Sis is gonna come barrelin' on in like a howlin’ fox turtle once she hears my distinguished swing. Fair warning.” fairly warns Sammy.
Adjusting his footing, Sammy raises the dinged bat upward. The metal club stops perfectly vertical, as if mimicking the stance of a swordsman’s blade. Tightening his grip, Sammy straightens out his twiggish arms.
Instinctively, the Povertoid hisses aloud. Hesitating, Sammy watches the Povertoid’s outstretched stinger arise, as if entirely independent of its own gelatinous body. Slowly rattling from side to side, the stinger appears to begin playfully dancing. Now transfixed, Sammy cannot help but stare, stinger blurring together with the stove top flame and hazy moonlight.
A sense of opulence washes over the young man.
“Sammy! Welfare Wenches!” shouts The Mayor, snapping Sammy back into his rigid stance.
“CRIMSON! LIGHTNING! BONNNK!” cries out the suited soldier, swinging down the dinged bat with such force that silver sparks trail behind. The hypnotic stinger crumples under the impact, rocketing downward into the Povertoid’s soft body, causing the fanged fiend to screech aloud. Teeth unclenched, the stinger rebounds, lifting the translucent target airborne.
With honed reflexes, and in a single fluid motion, The Mayor clasps an open skillet from the crummy kitchen stove top, and carefully aims. The Povertoid splatters down onto the metal pan, which summarily lands upon the stove top’s roaring flame. Snapping, crackling, and popping, the defeated beast produces a delightful aroma.
Grasping a wooden cooking spoon from the kitchen sink, The Mayor scoops out a wobbly chunk.
“Mmmmm, rich in odor. Would you care to partake of the honors, young batsmen?” offers The Mayor.
Upon the cooking spoon, the wobbling chunk wobbles waywardly.
Commands: 1. Gobble the wobble.
2. Fling the jelly into Gonzo’s mouth, still agape.
3. Insist The Mayor taste test.
4. Sister Mister will eat anything!
Voting ends in 48 hours.