A Mayor, a Crack Pipe, and a Whole Lotta Booze

“Boy, the press is really going to town over this.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That punk kid admits to smoking pot and they’re measuring his head for a crown, but I take a hit off a crack pipe and they can barely contain their glee as they crucify me. It’s all about the hair, right?”

“No, no, it’s not about the hair. Well, maybe it’s a little bit about the hair. But crack and marijuana are very different animals.”

“I know that. Still, crack is not nearly as addictive as most people think it is.”

“That’s true, sir. However, public perceptions have not caught up with reality the way they have in the case of marijuana.”

“You can say that again.”

“And to be fair, sir, you’re not campaigning to decriminalize crack the way he is with regards to marijuana.”

“Whatever. And stop calling me ‘sir.’ You know I hate that.”

“Yes, Mr. Mayor.”

“Well, who cares what those pinko media types think of me, anyway. My supporters won’t dump me on account of this… Will they?”

“If they haven’t dumped you already over the drunken stupors…”

“What?”

“Nothing, sir. I mean, Mr. Mayor.”

“I’d step down, but if I don’t clean up this town, who will?”

“We’re in good hands with you at the wheel, sir.”

“Huh?”

“The city needs you, sir.”

“I’ll tell you what I need right now: a good stiff drink.”

“Right away, sir.”