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Opa-Locka Mayor Pete Palmer vs. Xavier and Tard Boy in the Morning
Please, have a seat, ladies and gents. Anywhere is dandy. I really do appreciate you all sacrificing your long weekend for this emergency session of the town council, and I thought it only appropriate we convene on my humble little boat, “Fishful Thinking”. A-heh, because you see, I’m a poor fisherman and… yes. You’ll notice that I’m a little short on supplies, so if anyone asks, we’re all members of a religion that believes wearing a lifejacket is a sin.
We’ve got a pickle of a problem on our hands, one that requires this entire group’s attention. No, it’s not the roving packs of alligators. To be honest, I’m starting to take a shine to them. It’s the shock jocks who have taken up residence on our town’s fair airwaves. I speak of course of Xavier and Tard Boy, of “Xavier and Tard Boy in the Morning” on 101.1 The Rockin’ Lock.
No one quite knows where they came from. Some say Jackson, Mississippi. Others say Hattiesburg, Mississippi. But when the white supremacist station switched formats to modern rock – and at this point, I almost wish they hadn’t – Xavier and Tard Boy appeared on the daily 3:30 – 9 AM block. I’m a Charlie Chaplin man through and through, so I’ll admit to missing the point of their sound effect-laden humor. I don’t find much funny about a stripper reciting the alphabet as she… completes… or with Xavier giving Tard Boy a Coke Zero enema.
But they seem to have found the key to a ratings bonanza: torturing your beloved mayor! I can take a joke as well as the next guy, but I found it in poor taste when they had twenty pizzas delivered to my mother’s wake. And the soundboards, my God, the soundboards. I can’t even count the number of times my breakfast’s been interrupted by Adam Sandler telling me to, and I’m quoting here, “shaddup”.
It’s not just Xavier and Tard Boy either. It’s their rabid fan base of “Morning Boners,” who get “Dick Dollars” for treating me in a dickish manner. You can imagine my displeasure in hearing that many Main Street businesses are now accepting Dick Dollars as valid currency.
Merle, please don’t “take a l’il dip” in the middle of our meeting. Your input is val… well, your input is input. And if you insist, then please put on a shirt. Your pornographic chest tattoo is impressing exactly no one.
Ah, from your T-shirt, I can see you’re the Morning Boners’ “Head Dick.” I don’t suppose it was you who pelted my house with fecal matter and left a flaming bag of eggs on my doorstep? Atypical but effective.
This whole business is starting to affect my performance as mayor. Just last week, “Nuts” Carl tabled a bill to end women’s suffrage and I passed it. Boy, was my face red when I remembered what suffrage means! The long and short of it is: we need to find a way to do away with Xavier and Tard Boy! The deck is yours, gang.
Gertle, we can’t just outlaw their show. Do you remember when I tried to do that with dancing? Not only was it unconstitutional, but it was also the exact premise of the film Footloose.
Please, Merle, do not splash Gertle. At this point, she’s more hearing aid than woman. And since that 92-year-old has assumed every undesirable duty in this town, from sewage inspector to donning the plush costume of Otto the Opa-Locka Otter, we have a vested interest in not electrocuting her.
Vanessa, trust me, I’ve tried to call a truce. I invited Xavier and Tard Boy onto my radio show, “Model Train Talk” on the volunteer station. Of course, all they could talk about was my “broken caboose,” and when I finally understood that they were having fun at my expense, I’d lost half of my listenership! And Rick had been tuning in since the first broadcast.
Maurice, you’ve suggested it before, and I’ve vetoed it before: I have absolutely no desire to show them, or anyone, “how thangs is handled down South.” I don’t even know how thangs is handled down South. And if it has anything to do with those gardening shears you’re brandishing, I don’t care to know.
Well, things just got quiet. I suppose it’s on to my backup plan. Folks, you may have noticed that we just floated into international waters. I hereby declare this boat the sovereign state of Fishful Thinking, and myself its mayor. You’re all welcome to reside as citizens in this prosperous vessel that is mercifully, wonderfully, one hundred percent Xavier and Tard Boy in the Morning-free! I –
Merle, please turn off Xavier and Tard Boy in the Morning. That’s some powerful signal they’ve got. I can tell you’re enjoying the exploits of their recurring guest, Dummy the Gay Midget, but it’s completely overpowering me.
Hold on three ticks. That’s exactly it. We can’t silence them, but we can drown them out! Why, I’ll just call in a favor from the multicultural station and have them tune their frequency to 101.1. If anything will drive listeners away, it’s that salsa crap!
I don’t think we have to worry about Mr. Xavier and Mr. Boy anymore. So – what’s that, Merle? You want me to come over to the side of the boat and look at an interesting piece of seaweed? I can’t miss this.
And now I’m underwater.
How many Dick Dollars did that get you?
Previously:
Opa-Locka Mayor Pete Palmer vs. The Mob That Killed David Spade
Opa-Locka Mayor Pete Palmer vs. The Santa Claus Parade
Opa-Locka Mayor Pete Palmer vs. The Hilarious Movie Premiering May 22 In Theatres
Former Opa-Locka Mayor Pete Palmer vs. The New Mayor
Opa-Locka Mayor Pete Palmer vs. The Cult
Opa-Locka Mayor Pete Palmer vs. The Weather Machine
2 Comments
Terrell Villanueva
October 23, 2015 at 1:32 am
striking
services Jovani
September 7, 2016 at 5:22 am
ya it does