Mayor may not?

I admit in the dying moments of the Oscar Party Sunday, one final spin of the roulette wheel was made and the unfortunate victim of the outcome was the Mayor.

Yet, the Mayor failed to inform you, the sweet, kind, lovely people of Mitchieville, he himself was rewarded with 3 extra points earlier in the evening. When his number, 36 red, snagged the waiting gill of Ol’ Lady Luck, he rushed around like a madman. He went as far as to push my dear old, great, great, grandmother to the floor and scream, "In your face lady!"

You remember, don't you Mayor? It was in between the Bahamian Fire Dancers and the Filipino Concubines, or as Geddy Lee commented right before he passed out into the crab-dip, "Somewhere between the bright lights and the far unlit unknown."

For those of you who dropped advanced math: Subtract those 3 points from the Mayor’s score and he is no better than tied for the lead with the eventual winner, young, tender, fragile, adorable Larissa before she was awarded the points of a tie-breaking spin.

The Mayor would lead you to believe a conspiracy was at work, but it was nothing more than the cruel fickle hand of fate I assure you.

However, never let it be said that Strange turns his back on a friend. Family member maybe, but a friend/ cohort/ soul mate? Never!

I offer the peace pipe of forgiveness and friendship, packed with Bob Noxious’ finest. I am willing to send the Mayor 2, (count ‘em two), female midget strippers, a link of Montreal smoked sausage, a condom wrapper personally autographed by David Soul, and a fruit basket.
(the autograph is going to be the deal breaker.)

The Mayor is a great friend and I would hate to lose that. Or as they say in German,
"Ich wünsche, dass ich gewusst habe, wie Sie aufzugeben."