Rothesay — In a Rothesay plagued by crime and injustice, Mayor Bill Bishop has sanctioned a 12-hour period in which all crime — even murder — shall be legal.
The Manatee visited the outdoor skating rink at the controversial Rothesay Common on Saturday afternoon, 15 minutes before the first annual Rothesay Purge, to glean the reaction of community residents as well as an official statement from Bishop himself.
“The idea is to purge the community of all ill will, all those pent-up, sinister urges,” said the mayor, sharpening each of his own skates into some kind of throat-slitting death machine. “We want to get it all out in 12 hours, so that for the other 364 days a year, we can live in harmony, security and wealth.”
“It’s a chance to get back at the boss who wronged you or the neighbour who looked at your wife the wrong way,” said local father Blaine Morris, slowly skating next to his 6-year-old daughter. “Instead of hating them all year, you can get rid of them quickly and legally. I’ve had an elaborate security system installed at my house; as soon as the Purge starts, we’ll hole up and watch So You Think You Can Dance reruns until this whole thing blows over.”
While Morris skated away, the loudspeakers perched above the rink made a deafening siren sound, after which a pleasant and professional-sounding female voice rang out over the Common: “Attention residents of Rothesay. There are 10 — I repeat, there are 10 — minutes before the first annual Purge. Go home, be safe. If you’re purging this evening, may justice be yours. Remember, all weapons above Class 4 are forbidden. The New Founding Fathers of Rothesay be with you.”
Critics have argued that the Purge is no more than a thinly veiled attempt to rid Rothesay of its poor, disenfranchised citizens — those who can’t afford to adequately protect themselves during this sombre 12-hour violence spree. “What? Ludicrous,” spat Bishop, loading rounds into a machine gun and slinging it over his shoulder. “There are no poor people in Rothesay.”
As of press time, all skaters had vacated, and our reporter stood alone and unarmed in the middle of the rink as the sun set. The rest of the story was not filed.