by Douglas Cobb
Fuzzy and Lucy handed out lollipops to the younger kids. I had to repeatedly tell them not to pre-lick them, as it tended to make them sticky and attract Fuzzy's fuzz and Lucy's orange fur to them. The lollipops seemed to be appreciated, though, and the voting parents of many of the toddlers eagerly signed up agreeing to vote for Fuzzy.
It takes a surprisingly long time to knock on every door within a five-mile radius. By the time we had, Quentin needed to pick up Celeste from school. We had 156 definite "Yeses," 24 "Maybes," and 15 "Undecideds." Whenever anyone asked the ridiculous question: "Why don't you have 'No' as an option?" a few low growls, grumbles, and roars tended to stop them from asking it a second time. "Just what a Scarlet Party, SNURFLES-loving terrorist would say," I'd suggest.
When Celeste got home, I excitedly told her about Fuzzy's entering into the race. I could hardly wait to see the Centralia Nightly News to see where Fuzzy placed in the polls so far. It was still early in the campaign, but Fuzzy placed fifth overall, slightly ahead of "Other," whoever he was. I considered that pretty good progress, all things considered.
Two nights away were the televised debates. I rigged up Fuzzy's Language Translator to work in reverse, and translate his language, Rhinoese, into English. Celeste and I wrote answers to possible questions he might be asked on where he stood on political issues, and Lucy and Fonz were there to heckle him so that he would get used to it if that happened during the debates.
The following night, we staged a mock debate in the backyard. I was the commentator, and introduced everyone. Celeste asked the questions, and Lucy and Alphonse pretended to be two of the other candidates.
Celeste: "These questions are for each of you to answer, to give the public of Centralia an idea of where you stand on today's burning political issues. First, I'll have Prince Alphonse Saed respond, then Lucy Marmoset Higgins, then the esteemed Fuzzy Wally MacGee.
"What would you do if you become mayor to solve Centralia's pothole problem?"
Alphonse: "Snakes are a cheap, untapped labor force that would work for mice, taking care of the rodent problem as well. So, my answer is snakes. They could shove heavy boulders with their snouts and/or forked tongues, to fill in the holes--viola--problem solved!"
Celeste: "And you, Lucy Marmoset Higgins, what would your solution be?"
Lucy: "Many people don't know this, but if you soak banana peels in tar and asphalt, they make excellent paving materials and save tax dollars. So, I'd have to say banana peels."
Celeste: "Now it's your turn, Fuzzy Wally MacGee. What's your solution?"
Fuzzy: "Woo-hoo! I get a turn! Big money, no whammies!"
Celeste: "Fuzzy, what would you do to fix the potholes?"
Fuzzy: "The most economical solution would be to just drive around them, or maybe plant trees in them, so everyone will see trees and avoid hitting them.
"Do I get to go again? What parting prizes do I get?"
Celeste: "Here's a question just for you, Fuzzy, though the other two candidates can have an
opportunity for rebuttal. Fuzzy, where do you stand on the question of SNURFLES and being ever vigilant as to the dangers of strangers?"
Fuzzy: "Is this mic on? Can you hear me in the back? Testing, one, two--SNURFLES? To paraphrase a wise man, I believe it was best said by Mr. Garrison of South Park, who said: 'SNURFLES are baa--ad, SNURFLES are baa--ad!' And, look both ways before crossing the street, or crossing your eyes and dotting your t's.
"Oh, and always be vigilant, yeah, that's the thing you told me to remember, wasn't it, Lily?"
"Yes, that is what you were supposed to remember, Fuzzy!" I said. And, your answer to how you would fix the problem of the potholes in the road was supposed to have been: 'I would get the Traffic Department to fill in the holes and fix the problem. That would be on of the top things I'd do within my first one hundred days in office!"
"Hmm...are you sure you didn't mention planting trees in the holes?" Fuzzy asked. "It would be nice and shady, and provide much-needed public bathrooms at strategic locations!"
"No, Fuzzy, that is not at all what I mentioned!" I said. "People would likely run into the trees, and their roots would eventually uplift and crack the rest of the pavement. Also, generally, the police frown on people using trees as their bathrooms, unless they are possibly camping in a forest, away from the eyesight of anyone else!"
"Oh!" Fuzzy exclaimed, and added "At least I got the Mr. Garrison paraphrased quote right!"
"Sort of, but paraphrasing a cartoon character probably isn't the way to inspire the public with your intellect and ability to be a leader, Fuzzy!"
"So, you're saying for me to go ahead with using the quote?" Fuzzy asked.
"No, exactly the opposite!" I said. The good news is that Fuzzy got better answering questions as the evening went on. The bad news was he didn't get much better. He was taking the Bullet Points I'd worked so hard on and making them into a mockery. At least he didn't mention once having an interest in joining a witches' coven or that he could see Russia from his backyard....
The night of the debate came, finally. The air was electric in the Centralia City Hall auditorium, and the place was packed. There were four candidates there, the Republican, Howard Trelawney; the Democrat, Kit Jorgenson; the Scarlet Party candidate, Frankie Sinister; and the candidate for the PAWS Party, Fuzzy Wally MacGee. After everyone was introduced, the commentator, Channel Five's very own Link Dinkerson, started to ask the questions.
"This question is for each of you," Link said. "What do you propose to do to lower crime, and do you believe that an organization called SNURFLES is a front for criminal activity?
"We'll begin with you, Mr. Trelawney; then proceed to the Democrat, Mr. Jorgenson; then the Scarlet Party candidate, Mr. Sinister; and, finally, the late entry into this mayoral race, the PAWS Party candidate, Mr. MacGee. You each have a minute to respond."
"I'm glad you asked this important question, Link, that is so crucial to myself and the public in general," Howard Trelawney said. "Unlike the Democratic candidate, I believe that we have no need to hire more cops, to throw more of the public's money at the problem. The police we have now are hard-working men and women, and are more than sufficient to get the job done.
"As far as SNURFLES goes, I am on it--I'll have my people look at this and evaluate it before I make a judgment either way."
"Mr, Jorgenson?" Link asked.
"I'll make fighting crime one of my top priorities, Link, in my role as the mayor of the good city of Centralia!" said Kit Jorgenson, peering in a perturbed manner over his half-moon glasses at the Republican candidate, as if offended at being misrepresented by him. "I agree that we have some of the most loyal and hard-working policemen and women in the country, but the are forced to put in long hours and work sometimes 20 or more hours every week in overtime, so I say it's time to put the public tax dollars to work and hire at least ten additional policemen!
"Unlike Mr. Trelawney, I have heard of SNURFLES. Though they have been rumored to be a criminal organization, so far the proof is scant. You can take my word for it, though, that if they or any organization is caught doing anyhting illegal, they will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law!"
"And now, the Scarlet Party candidate, Mr. Sinister?"
"Bwa-ack! Pardon me, Link, I just need a drink of water and Bwa-ack maybe another cracker," Frankie said. "Crime is bad, Bwa-ack; SNURFLES and the Scarlet Party is good! Let us deal with crime, Bwa-ack! We're good at it! No need for Bwa-ack cops!" Sadly, Frankie got more cheers from his response than the first two candidates; but, Fuzzy was next. I crossed my fingers.
"What is your take on this question, Mr. MacGee?" Link asked.
"It's not against the rules to bite another candidate, is it, Link? The police good, SNURFLES, the Scarlet Party, and stinky blabber-mouth birds are very, very baa-ad, Linkster, sir. PAWS will solve the crime problem, along with the police, you betcha! Good answer, no? Right? Did someone turn this mic off? I hear you breathin' out th
ere--is my minute up yet?"
"Mr. MacGee, you still have 30 seconds. However, you cannot use it to 'bite another candidate,' so try to restrain yourself, if you can. If you're through, though, we can move on to the next question," Link Dinkerson said.
"I'm ready, Link! Fuzzy do better with the next question, you will be seein', yes, you will! Fuzzy be da 'Dark Rhino' in this race, and Frankie is da rat!"
"Ahem...please do not refer to the distinguished head of the Scarlet Party as a 'rat," Mr. MacGee." Link said. "You've already ruffled his feathers--er--have bothered him enough!
"The next question, we'll follow the same order as before, until--"
"Until da 'Lightnin' Round,' right, Dink Minkerson? I'll take 'U.S. History' for $100, Dink!"
"There is no 'Lightnin' Round, Mr. MacGee, and my name is not 'Dink Minkerson,' it's Mink--I mean, Link Dinkerson! You are not playing Jeopardy, you are in a mayoral debate!
"And the next question--" Link continued.
"You needn't get so huffy, Stink Bug Linkerson--Fuzzy listenin' real good, now, you betcha!" Fuzzy said.
"That, once again, is Link Dinkerson, Mr. Dundee--er, MacGee--now you've got me doing it!”
"There have been an increasing number of complaints about the potholes in Centralia's streets. What would each of you do to address this problem?" Link spit out, quickly, to try to prevent Fuzzy from interrupting him any further.
"Our fair city's Traffic Department is second to none, Link!" Howard Trelawney said exuberantly, feeling he was very familiar with this subject. "After dealing with the crime issue, repairing the streets would definitely be a priority of my administration. I'll have them repair the holes with asphalt, tar, and old chopped-up rubber tires, and the roads will be as good as new!"
"Mr. Kit Jorgenson, what would your solution be, sir?" Link asked.
"Well, Link, of course my esteemed fellow candidate from the other party would say that he'd have the Traffic Department fix the potholes with asphalt, old chopped-up rubber tires, and tar, because that's the way roads are repaired! It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out!" Kit said, seeming a little bit uncharacteristically frisky, possibly due to picking up the vibes and friction in the air between Fuzzy and Frankie. "Naturally, I would do the same!"
"Oh-kay, then," Link said. "How about you, Mr. Sinister--would your plan be the same as the Republican and Democratic candidates, or do you have a fresh take on this problem?"
"Link," Frankie said, "I and the Scarlet Bwa-ack! Party members, and my good friends, the SNURFLES, would line the Bwa-ack! Holes with soft feathers, so that any cars that crashed into them would have their Woo-hoo, Pretty bird, Pretty bird falls cushioned."
"That's...an interesting solution to the problem, for sure, Mr. Sinister. Now, moving on to Mr. MacGee--the same question for you, sir!"
"I'm in an answerin' mood, Skatin' Rink Finkerson, but my teeth are in a bitin' mood!" Fuzzy Wally MacGee said. "Not trees, not trees, not trees...." he mumbled under his breath.
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your reponse, Mr. MacGee; what was it again?" Link asked.
"I'm not supposed to say 'trees,' 'Big Gulp' Drinkerson, sir; but, the most logical answer is the one I will now say, I will! Trees--dey be good at fillin' holes, dey give shade, car drivers who be seein' dem can just drive around dem, and if you gotta go, you don't have to search around very much to find a place to answer nature's call!"
"On to the third question of the debate--Mr. Trelawney--unhand Mr Jorgenson's shirt collar right now! That's not the way for two gentlemen to act!"
Howard Trelawney had, indeed, grabbed his opponent's shirt collar, and Kit countered by throwing an uppercut to Trelawney's chin. While they were engaged in a bloody free-for-all, Frankie flew up to the rafters, and then swooped down on Fuzzy, ready to rake him with his claws. Fuzzy scurried under the moderator's table to evade Frankie's wrath, knocking the table over and sending the commentators sprawling onto the floor, scrambling about to try to regain their dignity. The audience for the debate, who were clearly partisan and held up signs in support of their candidates, started swinging their fists, also.
Gas! That's what that funny smell was I smelled at the beginning of the debate, though at the time I'd thought it was Fuzzy's breath, or some other noxious emission. Frankie must have ordered a loyal Scarlet party follower to release a gas that would make everyone combative and disrupt the debates if things didn't seem to be going his way! If he couldn't win the debate fair and square, he'd fix it so that no one would win, the dirty rat!
The audience and candidates were in an uproar, until the Centralia City Hall security force and the police started to break up fights and escort people either outside or to jail, if they were too belligerent and refused to stop battling each other. The doors and windows of the building were opened wide to let out the pent up gas and let in fresh air to help counteract exposure to whatever it was Frankie's fellow SNURFLES had released.
Fortunately, I, Fuzzy, Celeste, and Triple Q made it to the Mustang without getting injured or arrested by the police. It had been Fuzzy's Big Moment, his shining time in the spotlight, his chance to make a huge move in the polls and go ahead of Frankie. His performance, though, had truthfully been less than stellar. But, he had an exuberant quality that showed through, which I hoped would translate into votes.
At the Quince's, we watched the Channel 5 Nightly News to see highlights from the drastically abbreviated debates and the result of the most current poll taken immediately after the debate debacle. Though SNURFLES had released the gas, opinions were divided as to whether they had, or PAWS had. I growled my anger and frustration between clenched teeth. Were people that blind? The cameras hadn't been turned on Frankie when he viciously dive-bombed Fuzzy, or maybe the public's viewpoint might be different. Still...
The results of the post-debate poll then flashed on the screen. Trelawney had a narrow lead, with 43 percent of the possible votes if the election was held tomorrow; Jorgenson was second, with 40 percent; Fuzzy had moved to third place, with 8 percent; the Scarlet One had fallen to fourth place with 6 percent; and the mysterious "Other" held steady at 3 percent.
I congratulated Fuzzy. At least, he'd tried, and he had moved up in the polls. It may have had as much (if not more) to do with Frankie's terrible debate performance as Fuzzy's well-reasoned and polished answers (I may be slightly hyperbolic in my assessment of how well Fuzzy did here), but he had demonstrated upward movement. Now, all he had to do was move up two more places in the polls....
****
The next day, the newspaper's front page headlines screamed: "Republican Candidate Trelawney Caught Fixing Results." Someone (I had a sneaking suspicion that it was Frankie) had spread the rumor that some of Trelawney's loyal party members had voted more than once in the post-debate poll, and he was going to have a press conference at noon to make an announcement. It was suggested that he was going to drop out of the race due to the scandal.
Celeste was at school when all of this was going on. I had "convinced" Triple Q that having a surprise birthday party for Celeste was what he should do, and I mentally suggested the guest list that I had planned to him.
At noon, the expected outcome from the debate-fixing scandal came true. Without directly admitting that he had ordered party members to rig the post-debate poll, Trelawney stated that he took full responsibility for the actions of the people who were responsible for the deed. He was, indeed, dropping out of the mayoral race. That moved Fuzzy up to second place! Jorgenson was in first place with a projected 78 percent of the votes if the election was held today; Fuzzy was second, with 14 percent; Frankie was third, with 7 percent; and "Other," had moved up one percent, to 3 percent.
I had the afternoon free, so I used it to purchase Celeste's birthday presents online. Also, I thought since she was going to be fourteen, I would write her a poem about fourteen reasons why she was an important part of my life, why she was special, why she was my best-est friend. This was not an easy thin
g for me to do, because though I can write about most people and animals without much difficulty, it was different, I found, when writing about someone close to you.
You feel that words are inadequate, and can't do the person justice. Then, where does one draw the thin line between what is heart-felt, and what is sappy? Also, I didn't want to seem to Hallmark card-like (nothing against Hallmark cards). And, should the poem rhyme, and if so, what should it's rhyme scheme be?
Blech! Birthdays were great in many ways, but stressful in others. I only hoped Celeste's party would be a memorable one. As it turned out, it was that, and more.... But, I am getting ahead of myself somewhat.
After ordering the presents I'd chosen to give Celeste, I went over briefly to Fuzzy Wally MacGee's, to tell him the good news of his rise in the polls. He seemed to be in a good mood, and greeted me with a loud bellow.
"Hey, Lily! Chica, que pasa?" he asked. His Language Translator, which I'd fixed back to the way it originally was, said: "Girl, what's up?"
"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" I asked him.
"Why are you answering my question with a question?" Fuzzy asked.
"Why are you questioning a question that the leader of PAWS, namely myself, asked you?"
"Why are you--" Fuzzy began, but I cut him off, and told him that I'd just tell him the bad news first, and take that apparently difficult decision off of his hands.
"You made quite an impression last night, Fuzzy, but--" I said.
"Fuzzy no do any impressions, though I do a good one of Ashton Kutcher. Listen: 'You've got punked!' I sound just like him no?"
"Actually, you did sound just like him, Fuzzy, but what I am saying is not that you did an impression, but that you made one. Those are two entirely different things. But, though you made an impression, it wasn't especially a good one. Sadly, it's one that will likely last in the minds of the potential voters who saw the debate.
