Bloomberg to Seek Third Anti-Dolphin Term as Mayor

Huzzah!  Bloomberg's gonna run again.  He's using the old "we're in a financial crisis and the city needs a steady and experienced hand routine," to which I concur.  But we all know it's to complete his already stellar program of dolphin extermination.  By cleaning up our rivers and harbor, Mike has encouraged dolphins to venture further into New York's waterways than ever before - even so far as the Gowanus Canal.  Thus, Mike's pro-environmental tactics have brought the murder of these murderers into the reach of everyday and casual New York dolphin murderer's murder.  Why the other day I was down at the Battery, near the Holocaust Museum (in an irony that was not lost on me) where I spied with my little eye something that starts with "P".  Right there, within spitting distance was a porpoise.  Quick like a bunny I ran to a street vendor and bought two Sabrett's with mustard.  Well known fact, the blowholes don't like Hebrew National hot dogs.  I tossed one Sabrett about 20 feet out while the other frank was dropped a mere 4 feet in front of me in the water.  With the all-beef goodness creating an ET-esque trail, sans Reese's Pieces, the porp. swam slowly an inexorably closer.  Momentarily borrowing i.e. stealing a broom handle from a local street cleaner, I taped a plastic butter knife to the end for a makeshift harpoon.  Taking careful aim, I Queequeg'd the weapon and it found it's home, solid and true, lodged within the blowhole of the fearsome predator.  Leaping over the promenade's railing into the water, I grasped the spear and rattled it around within the blowhole, causing an uncomfortable plastic butter knife serration chafing.  The beast cried in dismay and turned towards the ocean, flippering as fast as it's flippers can flipper.  Then it got hit by the Circle Line and flailed helplessly.  A local kayaker, taking advantage of Mikey's newly cleaned Hudson River, towed the ailing beast towards the shore.  Identifying myself as a marine biologist, I grabbed the fish and beat it to death with a rock.  Unsympathetic onlookers began to verbally assail me from the shore but I defused the situation by saying I was an expert and flashing my badge (from Cookie Crisp, ca. 1984).  

In short, thank you Mike for making the killing of fish easier and within grasp (quite literally) of the average New Yorker and here's to one more successful and bloody term.