Old Mates – Letter 7

Dear Vinny,

I’m embarrassed.

Mostly for you of course, but I suppose I should feel a little bad for assaulting my political opponent and getting dragged out of the debate in handcuffs. I GET THAT. 

It bears repeating however, that you should definitely feel more embarrassed than me. That point should really be driven home.

To be honest, I was feeling pretty excited going into the debate. We had more than our fair share of “Gotcha Cards” up our sleeves, and I had slept a solid 18 hours leading up to my big confrontation with Nancy. I really felt like we had this one in the bag.

BUT YOU JUST COULDN’T CONTROL YOURSELF, COULD YOU?!

I mean sure, I may have  sounded a little out there when I suggested we take 80% of our funding for rebuilding our roads and putting it towards building “The World’s Biggest Carousel,” but seriously, think of all the tourism revenue we’d take in! Not to mention all the tire repair small businesses that would see a huge uptick in business. I still believe “The Carousel of Titan” is Fort Scott’s best chance at achieving international notoriety.

She was reeling Vin, I could feel it. I could TASTE it.

Until of course, you stormed the stage to profess (reiterate?) your undying love for THE ENEMY.

And called your wife on speaker phone to tell her you wanted a divorce.

And then proposed to Nancy.

And the weeping. For Christ’s sake, the weeping. Even a little tact would wouldn’t hurt.

I’m almost positive that was the turning point of the debate.

You should really be counting your lucky stars that I had the wherewithal to catch Nancy in a Sliding Collar Choke From The Back Mount before she maimed any other parts of your body. Who would have thought she still had that violent side in her after all these years? Granted, I may have overdid it when I switch to Side Mount and started dropping elbows on the bridge of her nose while screaming “LETS! GET! DANGEROUS!” with every strike, but I was just trying to help you like you helped me distribute all those foldy-birds. I feel like we’re even now. You may even owe me one.

And oh boy, your son was something else, huh? I haven’t seen someone cry and vomit like that since I left my pregnant wife while she was having morning sickness. He’ll probably be scarred for life, huh?

So, back to the owing me one…

Now that this election is over, is your company hiring?

No Longer Legally Allowed to Run for Mayor,

Lou

 

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