On Location: Kennebunkport, Maine

By Know-It-All Jones

Due to my bull**** loss to intern Todd ******* Stevens in the 11th Annual JC.com Table Tennis Tournament Presented By Certs, I now have to fulfill my handshake agreement to my superior James Conrad or face a violation of my parole and a very stiff punishment.  If you’re wondering why I’m out on a parole or what I did or how long I was in jail, then keep wondering because it’s a long ******* story and I don’t ******* feel like telling you.

Accompanied by former Navy Seal Randy Thorpe, who was hired by ******* ******* Conrad to keep me in line during his hiatus from Headquarters while he is with the National Team (and to think I used to really ******* like Coach Bob Bradley [link]), I traveled to Kennebunkport, Maine for some ******* reason.  Apparently, I came here to spread the word of JC.com in a region where our numbers aren’t strong but I know it’s to keep me out of the ****** office.  If your co-workers were saying this (link) about you, then why wouldn’t I be a bit of a ***** at the workplace, how would you ******* react?

So we’re there, Randy and I, in Kennebunkport, Maine and the place ******* sucks.  Yeah, yeah, past Presidents of the United States vacationed here during their respective Presidencies.  Who the **** cares? 

From our quaint Bed-And-Breakfast we headed into downtown with sights on City Hall and along the way, with Randy’s nodded consent, I half-heartedly posted a few “Jimmy Conrad Has A Posse” stickers on stop signs, park benches, and bus stops.  We arrived at the steps of City Hall and I looked at Randy and said, “What the **** are we doing here?”  Randy didn’t respond because Randy never ******* speaks because Randy is an ******* and we made our way through the front doors.

I indicated to the way-too-*******-enthusiastic secretary that we were to be expected and asked if the Mayor was ready to see us yet.  She said it would be just a moment but if we would please take a seat on those ****** *** chairs that every office seems to have, then she’ll let us know when he’s ready.  I told her we would stand to make her feel uncomfortable and her enthusiasm dimmed but, unfortunately, not as much as I would’ve preferred.

A few minutes of silence passed before we heard the clip-clop of dress shoes on the hardwood floor.  We turned to face the direction of where the echo was emanating from and before I could pick up my arm, my ******* hand was immediately under siege with a firm handshake.  The Mayor said, “Follow me,” and we went.  I sat down in a slightly better chair than the ***** *** ones out in the lobby, the Mayor eased into his leather masterpiece, and Randy stood.  The Mayor, looking a tad befuddled about who he just invited into his office, encouraged Randy to sit but Randy shook his head and remained standing.  Without jeopardizing my mission and to diffuse any further possible tension, I smiled and said, “He’s my bodyguard.  I’m a pretty big ******* deal where I’m from.”

The Mayor’s brow furrowed and his cheeks flushed with red and he stated, “We do NOT cuss in Kennebunkport.  I passed an ordinance late last year that any citizen caught cussing in public would be subject to a fine.  It was one of the pillars of my campaign in my run for re-election.  The young people of today have no filter and because of such, they are ruining this country.”

Randy nodded in agreement because Randy is an ******* and with a straight face I quipped, “**** the young people!”  The Mayor, clearly perturbed, took a glance at his watch and said, “Your time is almost up.  What is it that you want from me and my fine city?”

I grabbed the script out of the back pocket of my wrinkle-free Dockers, cleared my throat, and read aloud, “We want to you to be host to the first ever Jimmy Conrad Festival in the United States.  Our researchers at JC.com believe that the current President, Barack Obama, will not be coming to Kennebunkport to vacation in his down time during his elected term and we think that being party to this Jimmy Conrad Festival will bring the much-needed tourist dollar to your town.”

The Mayor offered no ******* reaction whatsoever so I continued reading.

“We will handle the overall logistics and provide all of the necessary ideas, like a house of mirrors so you can flex in front of it like Jimmy does or a hair-combing contest with a mannequin head and wig of Jimmy’s exact likeness to prove which style is best.  All we need from you, Mr. Mayor, is the green light to put Kennebunkport back on the map.  What do you say?”

The Mayor leaned back in his oversized piece of leather magnificence and smirked.  I folded the paper up and stuck it back in my pocket.  The Mayor broke the silence by saying, “You’re not much of a salesman if you have to read off a piece of paper what you’re trying to sell.  Do you not believe in what you’re selling?”

“I can’t ******* stand the guy myself,” I responded.

“So why would I want my city to host a weekend festival around him?”  The Mayor asked with a hint of irritation.

“I’ve been denying it to his face for years but I’ll admit he is incredibly good-looking so there is that but the ******* guy is a ******bag otherwise.”

A look of disgust washed upon the Mayor’s face, he shook his head, and said, “I can’t believe I’m about to consider breaking my own cardinal rule, the cornerstone of my campaign, and a law in this city but get the **** out of my office, out of my town and don’t ever come back!”

Randy and I left and I felt an abundance of satisfaction.  We walked back to where we came from and my mission was accomplished, I ruined Jimmy ******* Conrad’s good name in Kennebunkport, Maine.  I turned towards Randy and said, “How many more cities does James want us to go to?” but per usual, Randy offered nothing because Randy doesn’t ******* speak because Randy is an *******.

**** you Randy.

The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the author’s, and not of the JimmyConrad.com staff (save for one) or of Jimmy Conrad, who isn’t on the premises to read about this diabolical scheme to sully his reputation which, we have all agreed, is probably for the best because we have no doubt that he would not be too happy about the narrative above.