An Important Note for Frod Nation Supporters from Mayor Rob Frod Himself

Me and my Frod Nation homies.

Folks, the wonderful city of Toronto is in the middle of a crisis. The Toronto Star and their minions in the City Council have, believe it or not, wholly manufactured this mindboggling catastrophe. The destructive powers of this unholy alliance stretch far and wide, and as a result, there are going to be some serious consequences. Even as I write this, they are trying to strip me, Mayor Rob Frod, of my powers as the duly elected mayor of Toronto the Good. And that ain’t right.

So how did this start? That’s a good question, and for a change, I’m happy to answer it. As you know, the Toronto Star has been trying to kill me ever since the newspaper was founded. Thus far, I’ve evaded all the poisoned Gatorades they’ve planted for me at football games and the exploding mickeys of vodka they hid in the glove compartment of my SUV. I’ve survived every attack, just like Rasputin. But apparently that’s not enough for the Star: they’ve also hounded my family, left mysterious bruises on my wife’s limbs, followed me in a spy plane, and even stooped so low as to get me fired from my football coaching job. But you won’t believe their latest trick.

In what can only be described as a full-frontal assault on democracy, Toronto’s City Council has called three special meetings to take away most of my special powers, deprive me of crucial staff, and even downsize my budget… that part is the worst because now I’ll have to rely on cocking my fist at people to get things done even more than before! Who do these councilors think they are? My big brother Doug and I were elected by millions of pure-hearted Frod Nation supporters, and now these unelected, elitist, latte-sipping councillors (93 percent of them at least) are following marching orders from their union bosses at the Toronto Star so they can destroy me and start spending taxpayers’ money like the drunken pirates they are on rum, parrots, peg legs, and treasure chests.

Meanwhile, you’ll hear all sorts of explanations and justifications for this fiasco that try to pin Toronto’s mess on my personal behavior. I know what you’re thinking folks, and I’m the first to admit that I’ve made a few mistakes—but I’ve sincerely apologized for them. I’m only human, after all. Just ask yourself this: would you want a mayor that isn’t human? Do you want to be ruled by a sinister robot with beady laser eyes? Of course not. You want a human, just like yourself, and I’m the most human-like human being that has ever existed. Sure, I’ve had a few wobbly pops on the job, and I’ve had a lot of wobbly pops while sitting behind the wheel. I’ve smoked rocks with known criminals, I’ve licked box within the confines of my loving marriage, and maybe I’ve had a few dudes capped—just like everyone else. I’ve said I’m sorry so many times for all this human behavior, that I don’t know what else I can say, or do, to make these people leave me alone.

Clearly my sincerest apologies aren’t enough for the Catholic school board, or the police, or the Argonauts, or Iceberg Vodka, or Santa Claus… all of whom, of course, are controlled by the Toronto Star. They want nothing less than to kill me, and decapitate me, and hang my body in Nathan Philips Square where it can be drawn and quartered, my glistening entrails strewn across the ice rink like streams of blood-drenched taxpayers’ tears. The joke will be on them when I’m prime minister, folks.

But I digress. I want to reassure you, Frod Nation: I’m not going anywhere. No matter what these sniveling left-wing tax-and-spend socialists do, I’m going to stand on the floor of the council chamber and stamp my foot while refusing to budge. I’m going to hold every item until my dying day—and I might even literally hold my breath until my face turns blue. Believe me, I know exactly how to handle these obstacles, because I perfected the art of disruption at the tender age of two. You can’t buy that kind of experience and expertise, folks.

I’m going to continue to do what I was elected to do: save taxpayers money. First thing’s first, I will put a stop to this expensive police investigation into my totally legal comings and goings, because that’s just taxpayer money going down the drain. I’ve also given pay raises to all my staffers so they can hand out enough Rob Frod magnets to create a force field that will trap these councillors in latte carbonite once and for all (still trying to figure out the exact science on this one). Then I will sue every city staffer who has ever rolled their eyes at me, and keep the city government tied up in the courts for months so I can keep doing my job unfettered. That’s a good word, unfettered, isn’t it? I bet you didn’t think I even knew the meaning of it! And you’re right; I learned it from my fancy new lawyer, George Rusty Eye. Unfettered is the perfect word to describe the new and improved Mayor Rob Frod… unfettered, undefeated, uncensored, and unleashed!

Anyway folks, the campaign for re-election begins today. I’ll be asking the taxpayers of Toronto (everyone else can bite me) to keep Frod Nation alive on October 27, 2014. I even have a catchy new slogan: “STILL NO CHARGES YET!” So get ready and zip up your hazmat suits, because this campaign is going to be a bloodbath in more ways than one.

God bless Frod Nation, and God help Toronto.

Follow Mayor Frod on Twitter: @TOMayorFrod

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