Brondicon
I think the attire should be semi-nude or clothing optional it’s so much more tasteful. I’ve got a decent rack but it looks so much prettier when they’re dressed in red and black lace. So when are the auditions?
I say we get the gossiping old biddies. If there’s murder afoot, Zappo, as the town lawyer, and I, as the plucky reporter, can investigate all the clues the local cop misses.
I’m cool with the movie theater showing mostly silents. I’ve always wanted to see Nosferatu.
Of course, with this shootout brewing, I’ll have to take refuge behind the town barber.
Well, rats, I wanted to be the town Madame.
OK, then, I’ll be the proper, matronly, kindly wealthy widow [sub]sorry, Steve[/sub] who supports the arts and the animal shelter and I’m like everyone’s favorite aunt, and I’m often seen walking my friendly doggy thru the town. And I give out the best candies on Halloween.
No, this isn’t a pathetic cry to be loved. It’s not. Really.
I always knew those long hours at Barber school would come in handy. Best six bucks I ever spent.
They never mentioned protecting Plucky Girl Reporters being a benefit, though. 
Ok. I volunteer to run the soda shop. Along with the rules of the board, I don’t want to be a soda jerk, so I would prefer the term Soda Wench, or something equally interesting. I say 50 cent vanilla cokes, rootbeer floats, and I’ll serve grilled cheese sandwiches and chips. (Ok, so there were no ‘soda shops’ a hundred years ago, but I’ve always wanted to own one.)
Who wants to be my saucy counter-boy?
Of COURSE we show silent movies. Here’s how it runs, ok? Evening screenings are first run. Afternoon screenings are 1940-1959.
Saturday afternoons are Serials, cartoons ( heh… ) and a B&W Horror film, a la “The Thing”. “Black Lagoon”, etc.
Saturday Night is, need I even say?, the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Ticketholders are handed a thick vinyl seat cover to place over the entire theatre seat when they sit down. Toast…rice…water…sorry, no trashing the velvet.
Sunday is Foreign Subtitled Art Film Day. Sunday evenings at 7:00, we show Documentaries from around the world including but not limited to National Geographic Specials projected in 16mm.
Of course, since I’ve outfitted the projection booth in High Def Xenon Video, 16mm, 35mm and 700- all with THX Sound, these choices will not be a problem.
I’ll be the slattern everybody talks about behind her back, but smiles ever-so-politely in her face. I’ve got the children who run amok, the poor housekeeping skills and a mouth like a sailor with his dick caught in his zipper.
I also like to drink.
I wasnt even mentioned in the story.
it’s ok, though.
just don’t come crying to me when there’s a shoot out and one of the gun was replaced with one shoots out a banner that says BANG.
cause baby, I don’t know nothing about nothing! 
You got your public executioner right here.
Before we go a-hiring for any more of the small-town hick positions, I think we oughta name this damn town.
I make a motion for naming it Cecilville (as I mentioned in a previous post). Speaking as the publisher of our local rag, The Statesman, I lthink the Cecilville Statesman has a nice ring to it.
Can I get a second on that motion?
stv, who strongly believes in the parliamentary process
I’m calling the Hooker With The Heart Of Gold post.
The one that ends up nursing all the sick people back to health and vanishes in the night. Only to have the town’s medical building named after her.
Looks like our town is going to have plenty of floozies.
When can we move in?
No shortage of drunks, either. Not that I’m complaining.
Unless no one in the town sells Captain Morgan’s. Then I’m complaining.
The town could use a farmer or two, to supply us all with fresh produce and provide a never-ending stream of folksy sayings.
There certainly ARE a lot of Town Floozies. Did a nearby brothel explode, or what?
Well, we’ll need someone to plan & zone this mess…and map it too…I can take care of that boring stuff…
hmm…red-light district near the church or near the school…decisions decisions…
I am not a floozy. I am a slattern.
You guys only think you can get into my drunken, unironed, grubby pants. I got enough brats to feed and I ain’t about to make no frickin’ more. Put that turtlehead back into it’s stanky, dark hole.
And buy me a drink while yer at it!
I’m confused as how one sells a town, or buys one for that matter. What does the buyer get? The spot as mayor? Can’t you get that for free if the people elect you?
Ah, well in any case, I think we should build an amusement park once we buy the place. I’ll run that.
I am the new schoolmarm, just moved to town. Of seemingly modest means, I somehow managed to purchase the mysterious ‘Big House on the Hill’ at the very edge of town. The kids all adore me, but won’t tell their parents just why; and no one else knows anything about my past.
I dress rather boldly for a teacher, but just on the edge of what’s considered ‘proper’, being fond of somewhat low-cut blouses. I am looking for someone to help me around this huge place, take care of the yard, and so on.
Live-in handyman here. Need a picture hung? Hole dug? Tree planted? Since those don’t take any sort of skill, I’m yer man, purrp
I was telling my wife about our new town last night after I came up to bed, and she immediately volunteered to be the “town ho” (I think she was having flashbacks to her younger days ). She’ll be disappointed to hear about all the competition.