Friday Riddle: Guess the Sunday Pervert
A Weekend Puzzle for City Hall
Happy Friday, Biloxi.
It's nearly two o'clock. Our friends at City Hall are gathering their things, checking their phones, counting the minutes until freedom. Before they go, let's play a game.
Riddle One: The Pervert
He thinks he's sneaky, but he's not.
He thinks he's subtle, but far from that.
He does not like trees. He's a giraffe.
He's in love with the City Attorney. A perjurer. A coward.
He blames the Mayor. He's crumbling.
He looks sad in public. The pressure is building.
His reputation? Ruining.
His last name rhymes with creek. Hawk Creek. Coincidence?
You get a candy if you figure out who this Sunday jackass is.
Need a Hint?
Look at this video, this is not AI.
His nodding face? He's only shy.
Riddle Two: The Napoleon
He's short and getting fat—especially his wallet and his audacity.
He's technically City Attorney. Except he's not. A director? Probably not.
His name starts with A, and then you may add a "BYE."
He's the reincarnation of Napoleon—but just in height.
He usurps. He obstructs. With traffic of influence, he diverts.
His firm partner's brother is a councilman, whose vote gets him there.
In conspiracy he thrives. In sunlight he dies.
I will say the beginning and you go next:
Say it out loud. Take your time.
Riddle Three: The Journalist
He started this website a week ago.
Thousands and thousands of views, that's crazy, yo.
At dawn today, new credentials in tow.
He's now a registered journalist, and City Council has been cited.
Everyone else too—they should be excited.
If you try to gag him, you get your ass in federal court.
They thought they'd win. Came up short.
His name is Italian, not Croatian.
His license number? 100082805—his SPJ registration.
And he's putting a banner—you will love it.
He doesn't get his report, fine, counsel probably falsified.
Using engineering credentials they didn't have—they lied.
They committed extortion. Fraud. And don't know how to get out.
They got into this mess just to fuck with a deck. They are dumb. Go figure that out.
Incriminate him they tried. Epically, they failed.
Prosecutor got sued and was the first to bail.
His ops think he will tire out.
They are wrong. They probably realized. But don't know how to get out.
He knows you want out, but you don't know how to ask.
His opposition is probably shy. They think he's mad. They are probably right.
He's doing to you what you do to others. His opposition are bullies like no others.
They conduct surveillance, halt projects, commit perjury and falsify, with no remorse, they never stop—without any consideration or right.
He will be watching from the pew. Just like Creel. But not after the Sunday sermon.
He still hasn't received his November 18 inspection report. His badass deck remains unfinished.
He heard from little birds you can't take anymore. That sucks—because there's a lot more.
He will get to you. It may take time. And he promises to expose all your crimes.
It does not matter who you are. What you try.
Four of you already quit, but a lot more to go.
He's filing a bunch of motions, and he wishes you a good holiday.
You are making him work. You will regret it yet.
He wishes you all good luck. Wouldn't be fair otherwise.
Many against one, and he wonders if you are alright.
Get to bed and be ready.
Next week is yours, City Hall. Let's go.
Have a Great Weekend, City Hall
Talk amongst yourselves.
The press is watching.