Partly Cloudy, 64°
Doug, you’ve done something very, very foolish with your meddling. I hope you’ve got your traveler’s insurance handy and your luggage tags are up to date because you’ve booked yourself a one-way ticket to Pain City. Now I’m not one to criticize a man’s itinerary. I’m not a travel agent, Doug. I am a mayor.
Doug, I’m the mayor of Pain City. Welcome to Pain City. I am going to hurt you.
Let me introduce you to some of my coworkers in the Pain City municipal government. This here on the right is City Councilor Knuckles, and this here on my left is Chief Justice Punchytown. Let me assure you right now, Doug, separation of powers is absolutely not a principle enshrined in the Pain City Constitution. Pain City’s branches of government are about as separate as your face will be from the chief justice. Not very separate at all, Doug, in case that wasn’t clear.
When you first threw a monkey wrench into the Family’s plans, we knew right away that you needed a nice, long vacation here in our fair city. I hope you enjoy our fine dining: we’ve arranged a reservation for one at the Murdering Inconvenient Little Snitches Cafe. And just to make things clear, Doug, that’s not even a real cafe. That’s my little way of telling you we’re going to spend a lot of time hitting you with things because you’re a snitch.
Due process? Doug, we’re going to du-ly process your body into a body with more bruises on it. Habeas corpus? We are going to habeas your corpus right through a plate-glass window. Trial by jury? Our chief justice is a fist, Doug. Obviously our judiciary isn’t particularly robust.
You’re going to get whacked, Doug, and there’s no way out. You need a permit for a way out of a whacking, and I’m sorry to say that here in Pain City the permitting department is firmly in the mayor’s pocket. And good luck getting one, because the waiting period is six to eight nutkicks. And even then you might not get one. I hope this illustrates the arbitrariness of Pain City’s permitting process, at least as far as whacking avoidance is concerned.
As long as you’re here, why don’t you check out some of our wonderfully colorful neighborhoods. Take a stroll down Blackjack Boulevard. Check out the lovely views from Handgun Heights. Take the Shotgun Subway down to Pain City Plaza, which I guess isn’t in walking distance of the boulevard or the heights. Urban sprawl is a menace, Doug, although not as much of a menace as us shooting you with guns. It’s definitely number two on the list, though.
Well, Doug, that’s enough talk for now. It looks like it’s beatdown o’clock, and you know what that means. It’s always beatdown o’clock here in Pain City. This isn’t Eastern Standard Time, this is Beatdown Standard Time, because Pain City is not physically located on the North American eastern seaboard. It’s located on a separate temporal plane where the seconds are measured in shattered kneecaps and the minutes are measured in broken ribs and designing clocks is a total bitch.
I hope you enjoy your stay. Although really, Doug, I don’t.
Doug, I’m the mayor of Pain City. Welcome to Pain City. I am going to hurt you.
Let me introduce you to some of my coworkers in the Pain City municipal government. This here on the right is City Councilor Knuckles, and this here on my left is Chief Justice Punchytown. Let me assure you right now, Doug, separation of powers is absolutely not a principle enshrined in the Pain City Constitution. Pain City’s branches of government are about as separate as your face will be from the chief justice. Not very separate at all, Doug, in case that wasn’t clear.
When you first threw a monkey wrench into the Family’s plans, we knew right away that you needed a nice, long vacation here in our fair city. I hope you enjoy our fine dining: we’ve arranged a reservation for one at the Murdering Inconvenient Little Snitches Cafe. And just to make things clear, Doug, that’s not even a real cafe. That’s my little way of telling you we’re going to spend a lot of time hitting you with things because you’re a snitch.
Due process? Doug, we’re going to du-ly process your body into a body with more bruises on it. Habeas corpus? We are going to habeas your corpus right through a plate-glass window. Trial by jury? Our chief justice is a fist, Doug. Obviously our judiciary isn’t particularly robust.
You’re going to get whacked, Doug, and there’s no way out. You need a permit for a way out of a whacking, and I’m sorry to say that here in Pain City the permitting department is firmly in the mayor’s pocket. And good luck getting one, because the waiting period is six to eight nutkicks. And even then you might not get one. I hope this illustrates the arbitrariness of Pain City’s permitting process, at least as far as whacking avoidance is concerned.
As long as you’re here, why don’t you check out some of our wonderfully colorful neighborhoods. Take a stroll down Blackjack Boulevard. Check out the lovely views from Handgun Heights. Take the Shotgun Subway down to Pain City Plaza, which I guess isn’t in walking distance of the boulevard or the heights. Urban sprawl is a menace, Doug, although not as much of a menace as us shooting you with guns. It’s definitely number two on the list, though.
Well, Doug, that’s enough talk for now. It looks like it’s beatdown o’clock, and you know what that means. It’s always beatdown o’clock here in Pain City. This isn’t Eastern Standard Time, this is Beatdown Standard Time, because Pain City is not physically located on the North American eastern seaboard. It’s located on a separate temporal plane where the seconds are measured in shattered kneecaps and the minutes are measured in broken ribs and designing clocks is a total bitch.
I hope you enjoy your stay. Although really, Doug, I don’t.
