When democracy fails, bring folding chairs.
📍Ohoopee, Georgia — Population: 29 (or 30 if you count the town ghost).
Tensions reached a boiling point this Tuesday when Mayor Humboldt was challenged to a winner-takes-the-town cage match by self-proclaimed “civic webmaster and social media moderator” Bocephus Clayburn-Holler, Jr. The proposed brawl, which was to be held inside the parking lot of the abandoned Post Office (abandoned since 1953—rumors say a ghost named Ardnell still haunts it), was described by organizers as “a peaceful transfer of violence.”
“This is how real men settle democracy,” Bocephus belched into a little red-and-white megaphone he brought from home. “No more rigged ballots. Just a god-blessed match and absolutely NO kayfabe!”
(Sadly our very tired reporter, Kayleigh, didn’t know “kayfabe” meant “to pretend that everything in wrasslin’ is real” and thought he meant “kabab”, so now she’s hungry… and still very tired.)
Mayor Humboldt responded by taking off his shirt and eating a pork chop that he’d saved under his left moob. “You wanna roll, boy? I was born in a hog slaughterin’ trough and baptized in Diet Mountain Dew Code Red during intermission at the Monster Jam Finals. Let’s dance!”
Aunt Peepaw, longtime Ohoopee matriarch and lead footwasher at the Piney Woods Holiness Parsonage, told our reporter:
“I’ve slept with both of ‘em, almost at the same time,” she said, adjusting her oxygen nasal cannula. “Let’s just say patience ain’t the only thing they short on.”
The match, however, was derailed when Clayburn-Holler, Jr’s mother, Mrs. Ohara-Clayburn-Holler-Stavrose (recently widowed and now filthy rich) pulled up in a white Escalade and laid down the law.
“Bocephus Clayburn-Holler, Jr, you are not getting in a cage with that marbled meatloaf of a man unless you finish your snack and wash your hands. And I mean with soap this time—not those damn crypto wipes.”
Bocephus was last seen sulking in the backseat, furiously eating his ants-on-a-log and tweeting about “censorship by the woke mob of Northern Aggression.”
Deputy Ortiz, who had been stationed nearby to monitor potential shirtlessness-related violations, was asked for comment but simply shook his head and radioed in a code 42 (“White Men Gesticulating within a 6’ radius”).
“This town deserves a mayor, not a main event,” he muttered. “These two couldn’t lead a dog to a fire hydrant during mating season.”
Observers noted eerie parallels to the recent real-world spat between The High-Salutin’ Musk and The Stable Genius Trump, who spent the last several days LARPing as Tyson vs. Holyfield (it was an ear-biting experience!), casting shadows of impotence over two separate empires of ego.
While national media speculates whether Musk and Trump’s online tantrum is a diversion, a psychosexual mating dance, or simply two billionaires acting like adolescents sentenced to detention, Ohoopee has decided to take the high road: ignoring all of it completely and continuing to elect mayors based on pie-eating contests and number of feral hogs wrangled.
Coming up next, Dan Quayle disqualified from the Annual PotatoE Salad Spelling Bee after spelling “mayo” with a K. Film at 11.
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Between the Screens:
I’ve always loved drawing illustrations over photographs—kind of like they did in Who Framed Roger Rabbit. There’s something oddly satisfying about blending an animated face into a real-world image, making the two feel like they belong together (or at least like they’re trying).
Below is a 30-second video of me creating today’s illustration.
