Striding into council chambers flocked by a security detail and two aides, Mayor Jenny Durkan stepped to the front of the room during Tuesday’s public comment period and proceeded to roast the eight present council members.
“Thanks, folks, great to be here. I just flew in from the seventh floor and boy is my legislative agenda tired,” Durkan mock-sighed.
Durkan then winked at the council chambers’ agape crowd before turning to the podium and unleashing hell.
“I couldn’t decide which of you to go in on first,” Durkan announced. “But you all know how paralyzing indecision goes.”
Durkan then pivoted to stare down Council President Bruce Harrell and grinned.
“Bruce, I’m really proud of you. You’ve come such a long way. You’ve overcome adversity. Became mayor for an entire week. And, most importantly, you’ve shown us there’s no ceiling for football players with traumatic brain injuries.”
When an aghast Council President Harrell tried to interrupt Mayor Durkan and inform her she was over her allotted time, Durkan shot back “so are all you clowns, but I still keep signing your paychecks.”
As confused and flustered council members looked at each other, unsure of what to do, Durkan continued.
“Oh, hey, speaking of bourgeois-a to bourgeois-z, I see Sally Bagshaw and Mike O’Brien up there.”
“Sally, you make the peanut guy with the monocle and top hat seem blue collar and down to earth.”
“Mike! You always look like you’re one bad ayahuasca trip away from waking up naked in a zoo. Put your head down on the dais and take a nap. We’ll wake you up when it’s snack time.”
Seemingly pausing for applause, Durkan could be seen visibly counting one-two-three on her fingers before continuing on with her set.
Leaning into the mic, with a breathy, secretive whisper, Durkan then asked: “Kshama [Sawant]…where’s Kshama? Can someone check whether we still have control of the means of production?”
Council member Sawant was not in attendance at the hearing.
“Debby [Juarez], Lisa [Herbold], Teresa [Mosqueda] and Lorena [Gonzalez], I don’t have a word to mince with any of you. I just hope you all grow up to be me someday.”
Durkan then began to step away from the microphone before leaping back.
“Oh, Rob [Johnson]!, I almost forgot about you, buddy,” Durkan said, turning back to the dais. “I’ve gotta be honest, Rob, I’m not really sure what you do here. Do they keep you around to get office supplies off the high shelves? Did the Council basketball team need a 160 pound power forward?”
Durkan then ripped the microphone from its podium, dropped it to the floor and sauntered out of council chambers, loyal entourage in tow.
The rustling of a package in O’Brien’s pocket broke the silence.
“Well, I know who’s not getting some of my Goldfish crackers.”
