As Cheryl Cox puts the finishing touches on her State of the City address, an unconfirmed report from an anonymous source suggests actor Charlie Sheen was contracted to write the Chula Vista mayor’s Tuesday evening speech. The following is an alleged excerpt from a draft copy.
Friends, Romans, sniveling trolls … ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
You have the unabashed gall to complain about cuts in library hours, no more recreation center dances for the geriatric set and graffiti that’s as ubiquitous as pink slips at City Hall, after you – yes, you open-mouthed imitation of an intellectual, I’m talking to you – wouldn’t pass a teensy tax increase that would have continued to support your bloated, entitled way of life?
(Brandish machete from behind lectern, stare at crowd. DON’T BLINK.)
What did you think would happen if you weren’t willing to pay for city services? I told you there’d be cuts. Cuts! Cuts! Cuts! And there were. Duh! I cut everything I had to, except car allowances for executives and a raise for my staffer but they deserve their money because they are wizards like me. Do you get that? Like me. Illuminated divine geniuses! We need not eat of the vine of mere mortals.
But carry on, wayward son, carry on you big dum-dums. Whose fault is it, Steve Padilla, that you no longer are a port commissioner? Sobbing to the media that you felt blind-sided when the council, with the exception of your Sancho Panza Pamela Bensoussan, voted you out of office. Cry me a river. Boo-frickin’-hoo!
(Extinguish cigarette on tongue.)
You used to be mayor. You know how this game is played. You know you kiss who needs to be kissed when the moment comes. Judas!
Two words for you, my friend. Dave. Pieri.
Remember Dave Rowlands, your former city manager who on election night in 2006 suddenly found himself without your support and left the city?
Or developer Jim Pieri who had been operating under the impression that you supported his Espanada luxury homes idea, only to have you send your errand boys to force his project’s withdrawal? Karma is an assassin who lurks in the shadows waiting to grope you in the back.
What’s the state of the city? You’re screwed, working class plebeian. With no local job creation on the horizon, recovery will be slow and, in the meantime, you will tear each other to shreds trying to survive by not paying for the services you want.
But I’m winning. I’ve got three years left in this gig and after that this pile is someone else’s to pick up.
Cheryl out. Beam me up.
