After I became mayor, reporters stopped phoning. Which seems odd. So in this year's race, I intend to liven things up by running on an individually interesting platform. It is "NO MORE PAGLIACCI!" When Pagliacci tried to take over the fish-thrower union in Pike Meat Market, I stood up against them. I said, "A pizza needs a fish like a lesbian needs a bicycle!" and everybody got really quiet. They knew I was right about pizza, and as for bicycling lesbians--what's not to like?
Secondly, and my third and last point: Beware the shambling mummy. Too often in this city, population density takes a back seat to parking garages, and it starts yelling, "Hey! Speed up! Slow down! Don't turn there! Take the next exit, it'll get you there in half the time, and that's where my dentist lives." Then he welcomes you into his home, where there's a nice fire and cocoa being served. And he says, "Charlie, you'll be a good mayor." Then he tucks you in, and gives you a small kiss on the forehead. Life is like that. My fingernails look long. A hairbrush is all this city needs, and you and you need. And that's what I'm trying to show you about.