Mayor Royale
Part 3: Ads Speak Louder than Words!

A Kutlass Piece of Work

Disclaimer: Swat Kats: The Radical Squadron is © Hanna-Barbera

Feral had a less-than-impressed look on his face. "So this is our campaign headquarters…?"

"You betcha', Commander! This Dippin' Donuts shop gives us a grassroots hub, with that every-kat kind of connection."

"Well, if it gets us out of your mother's basement..."

But Feral didn't look convinced. His eyes worked over the quaint little donut shop. It had pink-and-white pastel tiled floors, with matching chairs and tables. There was more seating crammed in that storefront than the fire code likely allowed. Strung across the ceiling was a large "Feral for Mayor" banner, and thousands upon thousands of posters, buttons, and bumper stickers were piled up around the room.

The claustrophobic feel of the shop was not helped by the dozens of volunteers bustling about the little shop. Kats of various ages and backgrounds were crammed into every square inch of the place. They were busy working the phones, stuffing mailers, cleaning their guns, and eating donuts. It was a well-oiled machine, and the donations and support seemed to really be rolling in. A life-sized cardboard cut-out of the Dippin' Donuts mascot loomed behind the main counter at the front of the shop, seeming to oversee the bustling of the little campaign that could. The mascot was a giant donut with two big eyes and a bite mark in its side. Feral didn't care for large eyes on pastries, nor the way they stared eerily back at him.

Steele downed a day-old cake donut, then wiped his paws with one of Feral's campaign posters stacked on the counter. The Commander picked up his crumpled poster with some chagrin. It was a picture of him valiantly standing atop an Enforcer helicopter, baton clutched to his chest. He had to admit it would have been very striking - except that his body was shaped like a donut. The concept and design layout was nice and all, but there was just something about having a large donut body that didn't quite sit well with him.

"Steele, I don't know about this poster. It doesn't come across as very…tough, you know?"

"Whatchu' talkin' 'bout, Ulysses? It's great! Look at that helicopter, and that baton!" Steele pushed the poster up to Feral's muzzle, "You can see the cityscape in the background through your donut hole."

"Lieutenant!" Feral growled, poking him in the chest, "Take care of this."

"Fine, I'll speak with the artist after naptime," Steele sighed. "You're lucky to have her, sir. She came highly recommended from Mrs. Dinkly at Westside Elementary. She can do things with crayons that no one has ever seen before!"

"Yes, I'm well aware. Before I met her, I'd never seen a crayon go that far up a grade-schoolers nose."

Steele leaned against the counter, flipping open a sizeable notebook,and leafing through it. There were a bunch of numbers, notes, and games of 'MASH' scribbled throughout its pages.

"So let's talk about your first television ad. Our weekend 'Donuts for Votes' fundraiser raised enough money to film a few spots."

"I need a solid catchphrase!" Feral pounded his fist on the counter, "If there's one thing I've learned from watching television, it's that the catchphrase is everything."

"Simple-minded, yet very astute. I think I may have an idea…"

The Next Day, in the Junkyard…

Jake climbed up the stairs from the hangar, wiping the obligatory grease from his hands with a rag. Chance had scurried out of the hidden bunker early, mumbling about important business to attend to. That usually either meant TV or a trip to the litter box.

Jake sauntered into the living area, and his ears immediately perked up. He distinctly heard the buzz of the TV set, and from it came the unmistakable sound of high-adrenaline Latin music. This certainly didn't sound like Chance's usual Scaredy-Kat fare. "Heeey Chance, whatcha' watching?"

"N-Nothing!" Chance fumbled with the remote, quickly flipping the channel. But it was too late, and Jake had already pounced from behind. He had the element of surprise, allowing him to catch the bigger tom in a headlock.

"Hyearck!" Chance thrashed around, grabbing at the smaller kat's arms. The two grappled and flailed around the couch, struggling to possess the remote.

"Nothin' huh?" Jake finally pried the remote free, and pushed the 'Last Channel' button. "Prancing with the Stars doesn't look like 'nothing' to me!"

"Curse… you…! Every…vote…counts!"

Jake was laughing too hard to keep his hold on Chance. The big tabby slipped out of the headlock, and shoved his smaller friend backwards over the couch. As the two kats both sought to regain their breaths, a commercial flashed onto the screen. The commercial showed a smiling, yet rather bored looking, Mayor Manx. He was standing in front of City Hall.

"My fellow katizens," He began, stifling a yawn. "As another election year comes upon us, I once again ask for your vote. Being Mayor of our fair Megakat City has truly been the greatest honor of my life. It's really the *only* thing I've done with my life. And I'd say we've kept things running pretty smooth-lay."

The scene changed to the Mayor reclining in his office chair, feet propped up on his desk. "We've had our fair share of super villains, giant monsters, and labor strikes. But through it all, I've been a known constant. What you see now, what you've seen over my entire career of civil service, is exactly what you will continue to get."

The scene changed to the Mayor at a park, standing in front of a statue of himself. "As your tried and true leader of Megakat City, I pledge to keep on doing what I do best – which is being your Mayor. As long as I can eat, breathe, shake a hand and kiss a baby, I'll do the job. Vote for Manx, because what you know, is better than what you don't. I'm Mayor Manx, and I approve of this message."

Chance groaned, digging around the couch for the misplaced remote. "Crud, I almost forgot its election season."

Jake popped his head back up over the couch. "Yeah, we already know whose gonna' win. It's just a pain that we still have to be bombarded by all of the usual campaign commercials."

As if on cue, another commercial lit up the television screen. But this one seemed… different.

"Do you like clouds?" It was the commercial narrator talking from the TV. As he spoke, a picturesque blue sky adorned with fluffy clouds slowly faded onto the screen. "What about cupcakes, hamsters, and marshmallows?"

Chance and Jake didn't know why, but they were immediately entranced by the smooth, deep baritone of this voice.

"If you like things that are soft and squishy… then re-elect Mayor Manx." A distorted picture of Manx appeared on the screen, and it eerily resembled the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Kat. Chance and Jake audibly gasped! The voice continued.

"He's been soft on all the hard-hitting issues. There's no one easier to squish when it comes to taking a stand for the common kat. He's been comfortably reclining on the tax-payers' dime for decades."

The screen faded to a clip from Manx's very own campaign commercial, lounging back at his desk with feet propped up."Do you want to continue fluffing Manx's pillow? Can the backs of our katizens support his incompetence much longer?"

Mesmerized, Chance and Jake shook their heads 'no' in unison. An image of Feral, standing stoically in front of a helicopter, faded onto the screen.

"Vote for someone who can lead with poise and dignity. Show your strength, Megakat City. Vote Tough; Vote Ulysses Feral." The commercial ended. The screen suddenly flashed back to a bunch of dancing kats, dressed in sequined outfits, prancing across a ballroom floor. The two mechanics were stunned.

"Jake…"

"Yeah?"

"I didn't think commercials could be like that."

"Yeah, buddy….just, yeah…"

Chance shook his head. "This is weird - I hate Feral! But I can literally feel my values suddenly changing."

"Let's just change the channel."

Chance picked up the remote and begrudgingly left his prancing show behind. But they were only met by a new commercial. Mayor Manx was back on the screen. This time he looked a bit more engaged, surrounded by a crowd of kats of various ages and breeds.

"Megakat City is my home, and always has been. No one will ever work harder for its katizens than I, Mayor Manx."

The crowd around him clapped softly. There was a close-up of a she-kat wiping a tear from her eye. The camera moved back to Manx. "I'm a firm believer in law, order, and throwing parades for our local heroes. I'm also keen on job creation."

The scene cut to Manx walking around a construction zone in a hard-hat, shaking hands with workers and smiling.

"Last year alone, Megakat City saw a slew of new workers added to our local golfing industry. And thousands of jobs were created for reconstruction and road work." A worker in the commercial was showing Manx some blueprints, and he nodded emphatically, as if listening intently. The next shot had the Mayor in the driver's seat of a crane. He gave a thumbs up to the camera, right before the wrecking ball smashed into the side of a wall.

"I care about the safety and security of our katizens. Every year, I've supported increased funding to our local Enforcers budget. This ensures they are properly equipped and staffed to protect and serve our families." Manx was now standing in front of Enforcer headquarters, shaking hands with a small group of officers. He then turned towards the camera, a more serious look in his eye.

"There's nothing soft about me, Megakat City - except the softness in my heart for all of you. I'm Mayor Manx, and I approve this message."

Jake wiped a sleeve across his misty eyes. "These are really good this year."

"Yep," Was all Chance sniffled.

The television screen suddenly darkened, and black clouds rolled into the picture.

"Dark days have befallen our city at the hands of Mayor Manx," It was another narrator with an alarmed voice, "He claims Megakat City has seen job growth. Jobs created to serve his golf-loving political chums. Jobs created as a result of rampant crime and villainy spiraling out of control."

The clouds thundered, and lightning flashed across the screen. Dollar bills began falling from the clouds, piling up until the screen was covered. "Tax-payer waste is the name of the game for Mayor Manx. It's true that he's budgeted more for the Enforcers than any official in the city's history. But what good has it done? There are still super villains running amok in our streets."

Images of Dark Kat, Dr. Viper, and a parking meter reader named "Gus" flashed across the screen.

"Commander Feral will be the first to admit that most of these tax-payer funds are squandered on unnecessary expenses. Parades, sushi parties, bounce-houses, and on-site salon service, just to name a few." Security footage of a wild Enforcer party plays in slow motion. Sushi is scattered across the walls and floor. A dozen Enforcers, plus one sushi delivery kat, are seen falling out of a bounce house in the middle of a large conference room. Feral is highlighted in the background, sitting rigidly in a salon chair, a dryer hood overhead. He looks disgusted at all the merriment.

"Ulysses Feral knows that every working kat must stretch their dollar now more than ever. He believes its time that the city's government tightens the belt."

A picture of Manx in his ceremonial kilt faded into the picture.

"Oh, that's right – Mayor Manx doesn't own one."

A ray of light broke through the dark clouds, and at its center was Commander Feral. The narrator's voice increased in fervor. "It's time to stop the bleeding. It's time to fix the problems at their source. You and your families deserve better."

The camera zoomed in on the Commander's face. "This is Feral! ... I love you!"

The narrator once again took over. "Vote Tough; Vote Ulysses Feral. PaidforbyDippinDonutsandTheCoalitionOfAbandonedGolfWives."

Chance and Jake looked at each other."Naaaasty!"

City Hall – The Mayor's Office

"CALL-AY!" Manx was having a nervous break-down, "How can that tall, broad-shouldered, chisel-chinned Commander be connecting so well with the voters?"

Callie shrugged.

"Gadfrey, his last ad should have completely tanked on him!" The Mayor was pacing back and forth, wringing his hands. "If the Enforcers are misusing city funds under his watch, why is the backlash negatively affecting me?"

"According to the polls, you are 'perceived' as the head of government in Megakat City. So anything that goes wrong is your fault, by default."

Manx paused, looking up.

"Can't I plead ignorance somehow?"

"Not unless you pay-off some advisors and hide those expense reports."

Manx cried, burying his head into his paws. "It's not fair! Everyone knows I can't stand reading anything that doesn't include pictures. I really was ignorant!"

"I know, Mayor," Callie rolled her eyes, "Believe me, I know."

Manx continued. "I can't account for every penny they spend!"

"Well, technically, you're supposed to."

"I can tell you one thing, Call-ay. There will be no more milk and yarn baskets for the Enforcers this Christmas. That'll save some tax-payer money!"

"Listen, Mayor, you're going to need a very strong showing at the up-coming debate. Luckily, talking out of both sides of your mouth is a natural gift."

"Mm-yes! Feral's much too stern and straight-forward. Kats want long-winded, feel-good speeches, not someone barking orders at them. It will be an easy hole-in-one! Heh heh heh!"

"Certainly," Callie patted her purse. "And if worst comes to worst, I might be able to get us a pair of special endorsements."

Manx's eyes lit up with excitement. "Brilliant, Call-ay! Are they someone famous?"

"Oh yes."

"Would you say they appeal to the 18-36 demographic? Because, you know, I have Snookem and J-Cow in the wings, ready to go. I approved one of their cousin's paroles, so they owe me one."

"Wha-?" Callie couldn't even form words, flabbergasted as she was.

"They agreed to be in a new campaign spot I'm taping. They're going to spray tan "Vote for Manx" on their backs and then go trash Feral's campaign headquarters. Doesn't that sound edgy!"

"It sounds…desperate. I hate to re-widen your generation gap, but I don't think young kats are really into those particular reality stars anymore."

Manx flopped into his desk chair with a deflated sigh. "Hrm, that would explain why they wanted cash up-front. Oh well, guess it's back to the pen for 'The Scenario.'"

Manx picked up his phone to make the call. Callie wasn't so sure now that she wanted to pull a favor and ask the Swat Kats to endorse Manx this year. But without some star-power behind the Mayor's floundering ads, this was going to be a rough campaign. Perhaps even the last.