Moral Incontinence

I have known both the Mayor and Lisa for some twenty years now. They are my friends. So you can imagine my shock when these documents were leaked to one of my, well, your hardworking minions this morning. I immediately called the Mayor for comment, but he was on the golf course. Lisa was sleeping off a hangover after a night of gambling at an afterhours motorcycle club. Unable to resolve this issue, I could only come to you, the People of Mitchieville.

The first letter is addressed to the Mayor of Mitchieville:

Mayor:

It looks bad. You and I both know my poll numbers suck. I am willing to cut and run right now, but what can you offer me in the way of a position when you win?

You are obviously the best man for the job. What is in it for me?

(signed) F.B.

The second letter is addressed to Lisa, at her cult headquarters:

Lisa:

It looks bad. You and I both know my poll numbers suck. I am willing to cut and run right now, but what can you offer me in the way of a position when you win?

You are obviously the best woman for the job. What is in it for me?

(signed) F.B.

I was so upset, I spilled my mug of goat milk and bran slurry onto my seal pup slippers. This scared the cat, who ran up the curtains. This is the same sort of backroom dealing that lead to the downfall of the old Mayor of Mitchieville, back in '67. How can anyone support such subversion of the soverign rights of the hard working taxpayers of Mitchieville? Someone is responsible for emotionally traumatizing my cat!

Perhaps, when the Mayor, when Mitch, gets back from his golf game with the bagmen from the Turpentine industry, there will be a resolution to this issue. When Lisa wakes up, rehydrates, and drags herself to her cult communication command post, maybe the People of Mitchieville will have the answers to the tough questions I keep feeding them.

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this.