by City Councilor Nancy Pearson
Brian Eno once said: “Democracy is a daring concept – a hope that we’ll be best governed if all of us participate in the act of government. It is meant to be a conversation, a place where the intelligence and local knowledge of the electorate sums together to arrive at actions that reflect the participation of the largest possible number of people”.
Which is why I want you to fucking fight me, you craven piece of shit.
I want you to find that deep hole you made in your body where you stashed your bravery back in high school; back when you could have gone to second base with Stacy McNemeny after the Clippers lost Homecoming, but you didn’t. Grab that bravery, move it to your fists, and hit me as hard as you can.
She would have been into it too. She told me everything. She might have loved you some day. I hope that comforts you in your final moments as your weak-ass jabs fail to connect, just like you and Stacy, and I hit you with a devastating combo.
You heard me. Start swinging and don’t stop until you are dead or I am dead.
Don’t you worry about me. 2274 upstanding Portsmouth citizens voted for me, and I would fight every single one of them if I had the chance. I hope I do. I think I will. It’s the only thing I’ve thought about since I’ve been elected. When I’m up there, being yelled at by some idiot about some fucking zoning thing, I’m dreaming about it. I’ll get that zoning fucker eventually, but I intend to start with you. So kiss your kids goodnight, take one last look at their art hanging on the fridge, because art is important to a vibrant city, and come meet me on Five Tree Island.
Why did I call it Five Tree Island? Because I’m going to plant a nice heirloom apple tree where I bury you, you artless little bitch. Some hardy variety that can take the salt and the harsh winter; basically the opposite of you. I’ll put a plaque next to it: “Here lies some glass-ass motherfucker who couldn’t block body shots and got his insides all mushed by my fists and died.” When those heirloom apples grow I’m going to make a nice apple crumble with it and eat it with my family under the shade of that tree. It will be pretty. Think of that island at sunset, and me with my apple crumble, and now ponder the sunset of your life and how your body is about to crumble under the weight of my fists.
You are about to die, and I don’t think you’re going to die well.
Comments