Here's the beginning of a science fiction story, based on what I imagine will happen 200 years from now if RRROC Chairman Dan Fein keeps refusing to put Lloyd Guccione's petition (to remove Mr. Fein as chair) on the meeting agenda. As I mentioned in my previous post, Mr. Fein's stonewalling tactics may be based on the assumption that his relative youth will enable him to outlive Mr. Guccione. But I believe that Mr. Guccione is exactly the sort of stubborn person who would refuse to ever die until his petition is officially discussed.
Mr. Guccione is a persistent, aggressive & highly articulate adversary who -- regardless of whether or not one agrees with him (& many people don't, including me) -- should not be dismissed lightly. Especially since Mr. Guccione seems to sincerely believe that the RRROC, under Mr. Fein's leadership, is in violation of the Brown Act (State legislation that guarantees the right of citizens to be heard in public meetings). C'mon, Dan, do the honorable & politically smart thing & put Lloyd's petition on the agenda. You already know that John Uniak is the only one amongst your RRROC colleagues who might vote against you.
WARNING: The following content is very silly & should not be read by anyone who has anything better to do.
The Head of Lloyd
A phalanx of amphibious, biohazard-resistant vehicles in various states of maintenance & repair (it's so hard to find a good mechanic these days, now that all the auto shops have sunk below sea level) bump up against the dock. Their drivers swiftly lunge forward to secure their crafts & then stand on the dock to help passengers out & direct them towards the March 16, 2207 RRROC meeting at Pad 13 (formerly the Koret Club).
Chairman Thhhp-Ribbit -- representative of the new super-intelligent Master Race of mutant frog-steelhead people who have swiftly & mysteriously evolved from the site of the Monte Rio Sewer Treatment Plant (formerly Sheridan Ranch) -- calls the meeting to order & swiftly progresses through the first few items of the agenda because no mere-humans dare oppose him.
The Public Comments period proceeds in the usual orderly fashion as citizens line up before the microphone to lavish praise upon Dear Chairman Thhhp-Ribbit's wise leadership of the Russian River Redevelopment Project.
Suddenly, the room fills with gasps of astonishment as a determined figure strides swiftly & purposefully towards the microphone. It's a mere-human wearing an impeccably-tailored, navy blue Brooks Brothers suit punctuated with the exclamation point of a bright red power-tie. He is carrying a briefcase in one hand & balancing a rather incongruous-looking enormous silver cake stand, domed with a matching silver cover with the other.
Before Chairman Thhhp-Ribbit can respond, the mere-human stands before the microphone. He introduces himself as a representative of Lloyd Guccione's estate, & then triumphantly lifts the lid from the silver cake stand & declares in a ringing voice:
"BEHOLD , MY POSTHUMOUS CLIENT, LLOYD GUCCIONE!"
And there sits Mr. Guccione's disembodied head preserved in a jar full of chemicals, tubes & wires like the head of Alcasan in This Hideous Strength by C.S. Lewis. Next to the jar lies the cobweb-covered petition with the clearly legible signatures of 28 citizens who are long-dead, but who chose their writing implements wisely. The fierce eyes of Mr. Guccione sweep malevolently over the crowd as he intones in a slightly creaking, but still sonorous & commanding voice:
"I demand that you add my petition to remove the whoever is now the RRROC Chair to the agenda!"
Chairman Thhhp-Ribbit's golden eyes bulge with astonishment as the fly he had just nabbed from the chandelier two seconds ago dangles forgotten from his long, sticky pink tongue. His scales, dorsal fin & webbed feet twitch in agitation as the chairman croaks, "You dare challenge ME?"
[Continued until next time ... um, actually, it's probably better if I discontinue this story entirely]