“But what of culture, couture, cuisine?” advanced the town mouse.
“Gauds next the gem of rustic ease,” countered the country mouse.
“Hey, would one of you mind moving your car?” interrupted the suburban mouse. “It’s blocking Dave’s driveway.”

Sonny Price is an extraordinary candidate.

He’s your next door neighbor and cares about you.

He used to own the Buick Place on Park Street.

No, Frank had the Chevy Place

Sonny loves all animals and would make a great commissioner of fish and game

Where did you hear that?

Sonny Price would never do that to an alpaca.

A llama maybe, but never an alpaca.

Vote Sonny Price!

He is not a necrophiliac!

Who said that?

Oh. Charlene. What a bitch.

Have you met her? Then don’t tell me not to call her that.

They had a fling a while ago. Before the D-I-V-O-R-C-E

Divorce. Do you know how to spell?

What do you mean you never heard about it?

The news spread across town faster than herpes in a hot rod.

Vote Sonny Price!

Though, some people say that he murdered somebody.

I shit you not.

Doreen – you know Doreen, always walking around with that white stick? She told me.

Because she saw him do it!

She is not blind!

Oh. That explains the white stick.

Bob Freeney? You’d vote for that asshole? One winter he was driving plow and took out my mailbox! Mail everywhere! And not just catalogs. Though there were some embarrassing catalogs in there.

You know, Bob could be a murdering necrophiliac.

Vote Sonny Price!

Guest: …

Server: (drops check) I’m just going to leave this here. No rush. Absolutely NOT a ticking time bomb. Consider it akin to the gift of a plant: it will certainly need attention at some point, eventually, but not right away and certainly not too much. Please continue to enjoy yourselves, stopping only occasionally to admire it but never letting it consume your thoughts the way your meal did. Think of it like a beautiful alarm clock, politely back of mind but never actually needing to be snoozed. 

Guest: Thank you. 

Server: You’re welcome, I’ll be right back.