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His sanity long abandoned as an impossible dream, doomed Eddie Gallo has never made sense and shows no signs of ever doing so. ‘I’m bewildered, d’you think that’ll count against me?’ A mild man who perseveres, he plans to mend the canyon flyover and has a sliced turnip on his posters. His campaign slogans have included Badgers Can’t Decide, A Smile Makes People Wonder, Understand My Legs (Know the legs, the rest will follow), and Will I Ever Learn? The brain nature provided him remains unclaimed in his skull. ‘Why are we carrying on like this when the hot twilight air is full of flies? Why not lean on the pasture bars and watch it all? Bumble bees the size of dogs. These are our treacle days. And it’s all nice and legal.’ If every man were as static as doomed Eddie Gallo nothing in the world would need a word of explanation.
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A fat overlord with a multistorey chin, Mayor Rudloe feels it the greatest honour to ease himself upon your industry. ‘You can’t go wrong spending money on death and murder. Alot of people have noticed it through the years. All we need is deceit, an enemy, and negligence.’ In his darker moments he rues the fates for making him mayor of a place so obscure it’s where ants go to die. ‘I stand here before you and these are the ideas I get? I’m prosperous, why aren’t you?’ He saves on expense by shrugging with only one shoulder. Acquiescence is faster than he can handle these days. ‘Bring me your huddled masses and I’ll adopt a look of fierce consideration.’ He claims that democracy is the whisper of a near-dead clown trapped beneath a street grating, heard for one uncertain second and dismissed as a laughable irrelevance.
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