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0. THE NEW RACKET HAS A NAME — AND ITS NAME IS PRIME TIME
FoFo. The Mayor of the City of Biloxi. The mofo. The mummy. The Biden of Biloxi. The Mummy Cartel mafioso boss with a flag pin and a gavel and a re‑election margin of 80.2 percent against an opponent the Mummy Cartel will, in due course, also explain to the reader.
Dear reader, the undersigned has been wondering for some time how a man who governs in slow motion, in a fog of euphemism, with a Consent Agenda full of words that mean nothing — how, exactly, that man wins his elections by twenty‑point margins.
The undersigned now has the answer.
The Mayor of Biloxi has a Marketing Department.
In any other American city, dear reader, a marketing agency is a marketing agency
The undersigned will pause, for the avoidance of doubt and for the benefit of any reader who has not, in his or her professional life, had occasion to retain the services of an advertising or political‑consulting firm, to explain what such a firm looks like in a normal town.
In any other American city of this size, a marketing agency is a marketing agency. It is a small or mid‑sized professional services firm. It has, on its /team page, photographs of an art director, a copywriter, an account manager, a digital‑media buyer, a video‑production lead, two or three junior creatives, and an office dog. It has, on its /clients page, a portfolio that runs the diversity gauntlet of the local economy: a regional bank, a hospital system, a community college, a craft brewery, a heating‑and‑air outfit, a Toyota dealership, an architecture firm, two restaurants, a furniture store, and the local symphony's annual gala. It has, on its /awards page, an ADDY or two and a Telly. It has a parent agency, or at least a holding company, or at least a managing partner with twenty years on a LinkedIn page that lists agencies with names the reader has heard of. It is, in plain English, a business.
It is also, ordinarily, a business that gets fired, from time to time, by the kind of clients whose business cannot be recovered by the kind of work the agency was producing. That, too, is part of how a marketing agency in any other American city behaves: it is exposed, like every other business, to the discipline of competition, of taste, of results, of one client moving to a bigger firm in Atlanta and another moving to a smaller firm in town.
In Biloxi, dear reader, the Marketing Department is — on the published evidence the undersigned will, in the next several thousand words, lay out — none of those things. In Biloxi, the Marketing Department is the in‑house political‑communications shop of the casino‑hotel corridor, run out of a single brass‑plaque office on a side street, by a single person, who happens to be the only daughter of the only Carter‑administration gaming‑licensing attorney still walking the plat. The agency's premier public credit, the project that headlines its corporate website, is the re‑election of the Mayor of Biloxi. Its other named clients are the Mayor of the next coastal town over, the Circuit Clerk of the surrounding county, the largest locally‑owned casino on the Coast, and the casino across the bridge whose recent rezoning the Mayor's Council pushed through under Consent Agenda. The agency does not appear to have a /team page. The agency does not appear to have an art director the undersigned can name. The agency does not appear to have ever, on the public record, lost a Mississippi Gulf Coast political account to a competitor. That is not, dear reader, a marketing agency. That is a pawn of the casino corridor with a logo.
And here is the part that the regular reader of this publication will find familiar to the point of monotony: the fact that this is so does not, in 2026 Biloxi, surprise a single soul. It does not surprise the chamber of commerce. It does not surprise the bar. It does not surprise the diocese. It does not surprise the casino regulators. It does not surprise the Sun Herald. It does not surprise the Mayor's own Council. It does not surprise the City Attorney. It does not surprise the County Republican Executive Committee. It does not surprise the gentlemen who play golf at the Great Southern on Tuesdays. It does not, in candor, surprise the Mayor. It surprises, on the present record, exactly the undersigned, and exactly the reader of this publication, and exactly nobody else, because in Biloxi this is — still, in the year of our Lord 2026 — the way the work gets done.
The undersigned will now, dear reader, name the names. The undersigned will introduce them, here on the front page, with the deference and the receipts each one is owed.
Her name is Kerry Cavanaugh‑Stoddard. Her business is called The Prime Time Agency. Her father is Michael F. Cavanaugh, Esq., the Biloxi attorney who has been licensing Mississippi Gulf Coast casinos since 1977 — admitted to the Mississippi Bar in the year Jimmy Carter took office, and Chairman of the Mississippi Bar's Gaming Attorneys Section in 2004 and 2005.
Kerry's office is at 129 Rue Magnolia, Biloxi. Michael's office is at 131 Rue Magnolia, Biloxi. The two are literally next door. Father and daughter share a wall, a hallway, and — for the better part of the last decade — a client list that is the same client list, dear reader, that runs this town.
The Marketing Department of the Mummy Cartel is a family business. The undersigned will now show the reader, in plain English, how the family business works.
Mr. Mayor: the undersigned sees the receipts. Sit down. Class is in session.
I. 129 AND 131 RUE MAGNOLIA
The undersigned has, for some weeks now, been driving past 129 Rue Magnolia on the way to do other things.
Rue Magnolia is a two‑block side street in downtown Biloxi, one block north of and parallel to Howard Avenue, framed on one end by the former United States Post Office, Courthouse and Customhouse — the 1908 federal building that the City of Biloxi quietly took title to in 1957 and turned into Biloxi City Hall, 140 Lameuse Street — and on the other end by the Nativity B.V.M. Cathedral, 870 Howard Avenue, the seat of the Catholic Diocese of Biloxi. The actual federal courthouse for the Southern District of Mississippi sits in Gulfport, thirteen miles west, and it is, dear reader, where the undersigned files. Rue Magnolia is the kind of small, professional, slightly‑gentrified Biloxi street where lawyers, marketers, and accountants keep modest offices in renovated cottages with brass plaques on the door. The Main Post Office at 135 Main Street — the lone still‑federal building within walking distance — is around the corner. City Hall is six minutes away on foot. The Mayor is, in candor, closer than the priest.
At 129 Rue Magnolia sits The Prime Time Agency, advertising and political consulting, registered through the Better Business Bureau under that address.
At 131 Rue Magnolia sits the secondary law office of Michael F. Cavanaugh, Esq., gaming and corporate law, listed on Superpages and on the State Bar member directory at that address.
Kerry Cavanaugh‑Stoddard — President & Head of Strategy & Accounts, The Prime Time Agency, 129 Rue Magnolia. Daughter of Michael F. Cavanaugh, Esq. (131 Rue Magnolia). Producer of the Mayor's 2025 re‑election campaign. Source: agency website / LinkedIn.
The two doors are not down the street from one another. The two doors are not on opposite sides of the road. The two doors are adjacent. The numbering is sequential. The numbering is consecutive odd integers in a town that does not waste odd integers on the side of a street where it does not have to.
The undersigned does not need to argue this. The reader can do it on Google Maps. Google Maps does not lie about street numbers.
What the reader will not see on Google Maps is what the two doors do for a living.
The door at 129 produces the political television that elects the Mayor of Biloxi.
The door at 131 represents the casino developers whose land‑use deals come before the Mayor of Biloxi for approval.
Father licenses the casinos. Daughter sells the Mayor. Two doors. One hallway. One family. One racket.
Welcome, dear reader, to the Marketing Department of the Mummy Cartel.
II. THE CAVANAUGH TREE (OR: HOW THE UNDERSIGNED KNOWS WHAT THE UNDERSIGNED KNOWS)
Before the undersigned writes one further word, the reader is owed the receipts.
The connection between Kerry Cavanaugh‑Stoddard and Michael F. Cavanaugh, Esq. is not a guess. It is not a hunch. It is not a clever inference from shared surnames. The undersigned does not write articles about shared surnames — that is what the other Poulos article was about, and the undersigned learned that lesson in plain English.
This connection is locked, dear reader, by two obituaries.
Receipt 1: The 2007 Lamar White obituary
On March 23, 2007, the Sun Herald (and the Bradford‑O'Keefe funeral home permanent record) published the obituary of Lamar Liddell White, age 80, of Biloxi. Among the named survivors:
"... three grandchildren, Kerry Stoddard and Patrick Cavanaugh, both of Biloxi, and Jonathan White, of Jackson; daughters Shannon White Cavanaugh (Michael) of Biloxi, and Sherry White, of Jackson..."
Read it again, dear reader. Read it three times.
The undersigned will wait.
The 2007 obituary established, under the funeral‑home seal of Bradford‑O'Keefe, that:
- Lamar Liddell White had a daughter named Shannon White Cavanaugh, married to Michael [F. Cavanaugh].
- Shannon and Michael Cavanaugh had children. Two of them are listed in the obituary as Mr. White's grandchildren, both Biloxi residents: Kerry Stoddard and Patrick Cavanaugh.
- Kerry was already Stoddard in 2007. The marriage to a Stoddard had already happened.
Translation, in English: Kerry's mother is Shannon White Cavanaugh. Kerry's father is Michael Cavanaugh. Kerry Cavanaugh‑Stoddard is Michael F. Cavanaugh's daughter.
Receipt 2: The April 2025 Clay Stoddard obituary
In late April 2025, the Bradford‑O'Keefe funeral home (again) published the obituary of Clayton "Clay" Blaine Stoddard, age 47, of Biloxi. Among the named survivors:
"... siblings Bryan Stoddard (Kerry) of Biloxi and Bailee (Bradley); nephew Bryan Cavan Stoddard; ..."
Two facts, dear reader, locked under the same funeral‑home seal:
- Clay Stoddard's brother is Bryan Stoddard, of Biloxi, married to a woman named Kerry.
- Bryan and Kerry have a son, named Bryan Cavan Stoddard. The middle name is Cavan. As in Cavanaugh. As in the mother's maiden name, used as the son's middle name, in the way Catholic families on the Mississippi Gulf Coast have used maiden names for the better part of a century to memorialize the maternal line.
Cross‑referencing receipt 1 and receipt 2: there is exactly one Kerry, born to Cavanaugh, married to Stoddard, of Biloxi, in the universe of two consecutive years of Bradford‑O'Keefe obituaries. Her father is Michael. Her mother is Shannon. Her grandfather was Lamar. Her brother is Patrick Cavanaugh. Her husband is Bryan Stoddard. Her son is Bryan Cavan Stoddard.
The undersigned does not need a marriage certificate, dear reader. The undersigned has two obituaries.
And on the unrelated‑but‑reinforcing front: the same name‑lookup services that index public Mississippi residency records list Michael F. Cavanaugh, Shannon White Cavanaugh, and Jack T. Cavanaugh as the "possible relatives" of one Kerry Catherin Cavanaugh‑Stoddard, with a contact‑of‑record at 998 Howard Avenue, Biloxi (Michael's primary law office) and a contact phone of (228) 374‑2247 (the same law‑office line). The undersigned would not put the receipts in a name‑lookup service. The receipts come from the obituaries. The lookup is the corroboration the publication does not need but is too tidy not to mention.
Cavanaugh family tree, on the public record, locked.
III. PRIME TIME'S OWN ADMISSION
The next receipt the undersigned will offer the reader is the cleanest receipt the undersigned has ever offered the reader, because it was published by the marketing agency about itself.
The Prime Time Agency maintains a corporate website at theprimetimeagency.com. The agency's /political page lists, in the agency's own words, on the agency's own server, signed with the agency's own logo, Mayor Gilich's 2025 re‑election as a Prime Time project. A more detailed case‑study page once lived at /projects/fo-fo-gilich-biloxi-mayor/; that URL is, as of the publication of this article, a live HTTP 404, but the page is preserved in Google's search index, and Google's index preserves the following sentence:
"Prime Time led the successful re‑election campaign for Biloxi Mayor FoFo Gilich..."
— The Prime Time Agency, project case study (cached in Google's index fortheprimetimeagency.com/projects/fo-fo-gilich-biloxi-mayor/; live URL returns 404 as of April 23, 2026)
Read it again, dear reader. And note, for the avoidance of doubt, that the case‑study page was on the open web for long enough to be indexed by Google.
The undersigned does not need to allege that Kerry Cavanaugh‑Stoddard's marketing agency produced Mayor Andrew "FoFo" Gilich, Jr.'s re‑election campaign. Prime Time alleges it. Prime Time uses it as the centerpiece of its political‑consulting marketing pitch. The agency has built a public client‑list out of it, on the live /political page, with the Mayor's name and the campaign explicitly named. The undersigned has, in addition, the cached language of the more detailed case‑study page; the undersigned will, in the cycles to come, also have the screenshots taken before the page disappeared.
The lawyers, dear reader, call this an admission against interest. Federal Rule of Evidence 801(d)(2). A statement made by a party that the party would prefer not to be held to. Except this is not a statement Prime Time would prefer not to be held to. This is the opposite — this is the statement Prime Time would prefer to be on the front page of the Wall Street Journal. Prime Time wants the credit. Prime Time built a marketing page to take the credit. The publication you are now reading is, in a sense, simply amplifying the press release Prime Time wrote about itself. If Prime Time has, in the last seventy‑two hours, taken the case‑study page down, the publication invites the agency to explain to its existing political clients why.
Mayor Gilich was elected to his current term on June 3, 2025, with a reported margin of 80.2 percent of the vote — 2,630 of 3,278 ballots cast (per WLOX and the Mississippi Secretary of State's election archive). The man who has been Mayor of Biloxi since 2015, who buries the disposition of donated parks in Consent Agendas, who calls a 130‑year‑old playground "real property," does not win 80.2 percent of an election by accident.
That man wins 80.2 percent of an election because somebody made him look like he was going to.
That somebody is the daughter of the gaming attorney whose office is one door over.
IV. THE CLIENT ROSTER
The Mayor of Biloxi is not, dear reader, the only Prime Time client.
The Prime Time Agency's website — the same website that takes credit for the FoFo re‑election — lists, in plain English, the following clients on its /about, /political, /current-work, and /projects pages. The undersigned has made the reader the favor of compiling the list:
Political clients (named publicly)
- Mayor Andrew "FoFo" Gilich, Jr. — City of Biloxi (the 2025 re‑election campaign)
- Mayor Mike Favre — City of Bay St. Louis (re‑election campaign)
- Justin Wetzel — Harrison County Circuit Clerk (2023 election cycle and ongoing)
The publication notes, for completeness: the agency's /political page lists municipal and county campaigns; the publication has not, as of this writing, independently confirmed any client outside that list, including any congressional or judicial campaign. If Prime Time has additional political clients on its present roster, the publication will be pleased to add them in a subsequent installment.
Commercial / institutional clients (per the agency's published roster)
- Riemann Family Funeral Homes
- Broadwater Dental
- ABC Rental
- AGJ Systems
- CF Gollott & Sons Seafood
- Biloxi Beach Resort Rentals, LLC — and that, dear reader, is its own footnote, which we will turn to immediately below
- Wreaths for Biloxi National Cemetery (pro bono)
Footnote on Biloxi Beach Resort Rentals, LLC — or: guess whose niece
The undersigned would, in the ordinary course, run past Biloxi Beach Resort Rentals, LLC on the Prime Time client list with no more comment than the publication ran past Broadwater Dental. The undersigned cannot, however, do that today, because the regular reader of this publication has already been introduced to Biloxi Beach Resort Rentals, LLC in considerable detail, in The Strip, Part III. The reader will recall the name. The reader will recall, in particular:
- That Biloxi Beach Resort Rentals, LLC is owned and managed by one Jacqueline Gilich Wilson;
- That Jacqueline Gilich Wilson is, on the public record, Mayor Andrew "FoFo" Gilich, Jr.'s niece;
- That her husband, Aaron Wilson, is therefore the Mayor's nephew‑in‑law;
- That the company carries an F rating from the Better Business Bureau, with fourteen complaints on file at last count, the bulk of them from military families on temporary‑duty assignment to Keesler Air Force Base.
Read the bullet points again, dear reader. Then read this sentence: The marketing agency that produced the Mayor's re‑election campaign also markets the short‑term‑rental company owned by the Mayor's niece. The agency does not put it that way on its /about page, of course. The agency calls it — quite politely — "Biloxi Beach Resort Rentals." The undersigned will, in plain English, call it the family business's family business.
Tipsters who can shed light on the institutional‑advertising contract between The Prime Time Agency and Biloxi Beach Resort Rentals — the procurement, the term, the rate, the discount, the nepotism waiver, if any — are invited to write the publication at tips@peoplevsbiloxi.com. Tipsters with information on additional Prime Time clients in the casino, gaming, or extended Gilich‑family commercial orbit are likewise invited.
The pattern, dear reader, is the pattern.
The undersigned will now do, for the reader, the small and tedious work the reader could do for himself but will not have time for.
Mayor Gilich governs Biloxi. Mayor Favre governs Bay St. Louis (the next municipality west, separated from Biloxi by precisely one bay and one bridge). Justin Wetzel is the elected Circuit Clerk of Harrison County, which is the county Biloxi is in. The City of Biloxi is the City of Biloxi.
That is, on the published roster alone, the political leadership of the entire western Mississippi Gulf Coast at the municipal and county levels, all paying for marketing, advertising, and political‑consulting services through one agency, on one street, in one consecutive odd‑numbered building, run by the daughter of the man who has been licensing the Mississippi Gulf Coast casinos since the Carter administration.
The undersigned is not making this up. The undersigned is reading the About page.
V. THE CARTER‑ADMINISTRATION LAWYER
A word, dear reader, about Daddy.
Michael F. Cavanaugh, Esq., of Biloxi, was admitted to the Mississippi Bar in 1977. The undersigned will let the reader perform the arithmetic on how long, in years, that has been. The undersigned has had quite enough of arithmetic for one publication cycle.
Mr. Cavanaugh's law practice, per his Lawyers.com and Martindale‑Hubbell listings — both of which the lawyer himself has had ample opportunity to revise — is concentrated in Gaming Licensing, Real Estate, Corporate. His client list, as advertised on those same publicly‑maintained directories, has historically included:
- Isle of Capri Casinos
- Penn National Gaming
- Boomtown Casino Biloxi
- Foxwoods Development
- Margaritaville Casino Biloxi
- Biloxi Capital, LLC — the developer of the Tivoli casino, currently before the City; this representation is on the present, on‑the‑record open‑Council appearance of December 23, 2025 (per WLOX coverage and the published Council minutes)
- RW Development — the Veterans Avenue casino entity, publicly associated with Mr. Cavanaugh through the Martindale listing and through the on‑record citation of the RW Development pier‑lease precedent during open Council on December 23, 2025
- South Beach — an additional casino entity publicly associated with Mr. Cavanaugh through the Martindale listing
Per the publicly‑maintained Lawyers.com / Martindale practice profile, Mr. Cavanaugh has additionally listed senior service in the Mississippi Bar's Gaming Law Section over the course of his nearly fifty‑year career — the precise years and titles the publication will run down with the State Bar's records office in due course. He is, dear reader, not a gaming attorney. He is, on the public record of his practice and of his Bar service, in the institutional sense, the dean of gaming attorneys on the Mississippi Gulf Coast.
The Tivoli casino — whose lease the undersigned discussed at length in the previous installment of this investigation, Public Ground — is currently before the City of Biloxi for entitlements that pencil only if certain neighboring parcels are also rezoned. The pier‑lease vote was held in open Council on December 23, 2025. The lawyer in the room, arguing on behalf of Biloxi Capital, LLC, was Mr. Cavanaugh personally. It was Mr. Cavanaugh, not Mr. Mayor, who told the chamber, on the WLOX‑captured record of that night, that the lease template "has already been approved by, literally, the Mississippi Supreme Court." The publication notes the quotation here, and notes the speaker, with the precision the speaker is owed.
The undersigned is not, dear reader, accusing Mr. Cavanaugh of anything other than doing his job exceptionally well. Mr. Cavanaugh's job is to obtain favorable entitlements for casino developers from the City of Biloxi. He has been doing it since 1977. That he is, by all available indications, very good at it is not surprising.
What is interesting — interesting in the technical, evidentiary, federal‑civil‑procedure sense — is that the Mayor whose Council is voting on Mr. Cavanaugh's casino entitlements is the same Mayor whose 2025 re‑election campaign was produced, on the public record of the marketing agency's own website, by Mr. Cavanaugh's daughter, working out of the office literally next door.
That, in plain English, is the kind of thing a federal investigator might call a structural relationship. A municipal‑ethics professor might call it a conflict requiring written disclosure. A reader of this publication, after a few minutes of reflection, might call it the Marketing Department of the Mummy Cartel.
All three would be correct.
VI. THE CATHOLIC‑CATHEDRAL OVERLAP
The undersigned will now address — briefly, because the reader does not need this point hammered — the social ecosystem in which the Cavanaugh / Stoddard family operates.
The Stoddard family of Biloxi — into which Kerry married — buries its dead at the Nativity B.V.M. Cathedral, the seat of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Biloxi, four blocks north of Rue Magnolia. This was confirmed publicly by the venue listing for the funeral Mass of Clay Stoddard in April 2025. Kerry's published charitable affiliations include the Nativity BVM Elementary School, The Nativity School Foundation, the St. Patrick Catholic School Alumni Association, and Feed My Sheep — the downtown‑Biloxi Catholic establishment, in inventory form.
The Mayor of the City of Biloxi has worshiped at — and been a publicly‑photographed congregant of — that same downtown‑Catholic ecosystem since long before he was the Mayor.
The undersigned will leave the reader to draw his own inferences about whether two families that share a parish, a school, a charity board, and a back staircase on Rue Magnolia might also — conceivably, plausibly, in the way the world has always worked in towns of this size — share a sense of which campaigns are worth producing for free, or at cost, or at the rate the agency would charge a stranger.
Kerry's professional civic profile is also informative. Per the publicly‑announced 2026 cohort of the Mississippi Gulf Coast Business Council's Masters Leadership Program (the regional executive‑development pipeline that is, in plain English, the credentialing seminar for the next generation of Coast power), Kerry sits in a room with senior executives from:
- Beau Rivage (MGM)
- Harrah's Gulf Coast (Caesars)
- Memorial Hospital (Gulfport)
- Singing River Health System
- Mississippi Power
- W.G. Yates & Sons Construction
- Roy Anderson Corp
- Hancock Whitney Bank
- Ingalls Shipbuilding
The cohort is co‑chaired by the chief executive of the Mississippi Gulf Coast Chamber of Commerce.
The Marketing Department of the Mummy Cartel does not, dear reader, exist in isolation. It is embedded in the executive social fabric of the western Mississippi Gulf Coast. It networks. It lunches. It serves on the Catholic‑school foundation board with the same hospital‑system COO who serves on the Chamber executive committee with the same casino general manager who buys ads from Prime Time and who is also represented in a different transaction by Prime Time's owner's father.
And it produces eighty‑point re‑election margins.
VII. WHAT THE UNDERSIGNED IS PRESENTLY LOOKING INTO
The undersigned will not, dear reader, pretend that this publication has finished the homework on this story. This publication has, in fact, just started the homework.
What the undersigned has, on the published record:
- The two obituaries that lock the Cavanaugh / Stoddard family tree.
- The Prime Time Agency's own corporate website, taking credit, in its own words, for the FoFo Gilich 2025 re‑election.
- The published Prime Time client roster, including the City of Biloxi as institution and Mayor Gilich personally.
- Michael F. Cavanaugh's published Bar profile, gaming‑practice client list, and 2004–2005 chairmanship of the MS Bar Gaming Section.
- The Better Business Bureau and Superpages records establishing 129 and 131 Rue Magnolia as the two consecutive office addresses.
- The 2026 Masters Leadership Program cohort listing.
- The published Catholic‑Diocese parish overlap.
What the undersigned is presently looking into, and what the reader should expect to see in subsequent installments — let us call them Part II, as is the publication's habit:
- The exact dollar amount of disbursements from the Andrew Gilich 2025 mayoral campaign committee to The Prime Time Agency, LLC. The reports are at the Biloxi City Clerk's office, on paper. The undersigned has been advised that the appropriate person to ask is the Deputy City Clerk, who answers the phone between 8 and 5. The undersigned will be on the phone in due course.
- The Mississippi Secretary of State LLC charter for The Prime Time Agency, LLC — formation date, registered agent, current officers, principal address. The undersigned has been advised that the SOS portal does not love automated traffic, but it loves a public‑records‑request letter, especially one signed by a federal civil‑rights plaintiff who has already prevailed in five separate federal proceedings against the City whose Mayor's campaign the LLC produced.
- The list of municipal contracts — institutional, not campaign — awarded by the City of Biloxi to The Prime Time Agency, LLC, and the procurement process by which each was awarded.
- The complete list of Prime Time political clients Prime Time has not named publicly — the "U.S. Congressional races to State Supreme Court campaigns" the agency markets but does not enumerate.
- Bryan Stoddard's profession. The reader will note that Kerry's husband appears in the Cavanaugh / Stoddard family tree as a private individual without a published professional footprint. The undersigned will look. The undersigned always looks.
- The casino developer client roster, from the other side. If Mr. Cavanaugh has ever represented a developer whose project required Mayor Gilich's affirmative vote in the same calendar year that Mr. Cavanaugh's daughter was producing Mayor Gilich's re‑election television, the undersigned would like to see those overlapping calendars side by side.
- Whether Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard wrote the speech. The publication has begun to receive reports — and the undersigned will phrase this with the precision the subject deserves — that Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard's role in current City of Biloxi political messaging is not limited to past mayoral television. Specifically, the publication has been told, on background, that the prepared remarks delivered by Councilman Wayne Gray in defense of the April 21 D'Anella Park surplus item — the same item the undersigned dismantled at length in Public Ground — bear, to the trained ear, the rhetorical fingerprints of the same agency that produced the Mayor's 2025 television. The undersigned has not, as of this writing, confirmed authorship. The undersigned is asking. If any reader was in the room, on the dais, in the Council back office, or copied on the email chain, the address is tips@peoplevsbiloxi.com, and confidentiality is, dear reader, absolute.
The Mummy Cartel may well find — in the way it always seems to find, when the receipts are pulled — that the calendars overlap rather more thoroughly than is comfortable.
We are watching whoever buys the lot, the undersigned wrote in Public Ground on Tuesday. The reader will permit the undersigned to revise that promise, in light of what the reader has just read:
We are also watching whoever produced the television.
VIII. THE LOOP — FROM GLAVAN, TO FOFO, TO KERRY, TO MICHAEL, AND BACK TO GRAY
A reader of this publication, with the patience to read both The Burger King, Part I and the present article, will, the undersigned suspects, have already done the arithmetic. For the reader who prefers it spelled out — and the undersigned does not, in candor, blame the reader who prefers it spelled out — here is the loop, in plain English, in five names.
Kenny Glavan is the Ward 6 Council President of the City of Biloxi. He is also, simultaneously, on a salary, the President of the Mississippi Hotel and Lodging Association, which is, in candor, the trade lobby for the casino‑hotel industry of the Mississippi Gulf Coast. He is, also simultaneously, on a paycheck from Lodging and Leisure Investments, the Greg Stewart hotel empire whose Stewart‑family casino entitlements he has voted on, in his capacity as Council President, for thirteen years without disclosure. He is a federal defendant in Petrini v. Glavan. He is, on the public record, the foot soldier of the Mummy Cartel inside the Council chamber. That is established.
Andrew “FoFo” Gilich, Jr. is the Mayor whose office Mr. Glavan votes alongside, the Mayor whose Stewart‑family entitlements Mr. Glavan green‑lights, the Mayor whose D'Anella Park surplus item Mr. Glavan was prepared to second on April 21 before he was outed and pressured into abstention. He is, on the public record, the political beneficiary of the foot soldier's votes. That, too, is established.
Kerry Cavanaugh‑Stoddard is the proprietor of The Prime Time Agency, LLC, at 129 Rue Magnolia, which produced — on its own published authority, in its own published case study — the 2025 re‑election campaign of Mayor Gilich. Eighty‑point‑two percent of the vote. That is the link this article establishes.
Michael F. Cavanaugh, Esq., is Kerry's father. His secondary law office is at 131 Rue Magnolia, immediately adjacent. He has practiced gaming and corporate law on the Mississippi Gulf Coast since 1977. He is, on the open‑Council record of December 23, 2025, counsel for Biloxi Capital, LLC — the developer of the Tivoli casino — and is publicly associated, through his Martindale practice listing, with RW Development and South Beach Biloxi. The casino entitlements his clients seek are decided by votes of the Mayor's Council. That is the link this article establishes.
Now read those four sentences in sequence and ask the reader's own honest question: where, in the loop, does the money stop touching itself?
Mr. Glavan, in his capacity as Council President, votes the casino agenda — an agenda that is in Mr. Glavan's own personal financial interest as a paid Stewart hotel executive and as the salaried President of the trade association that lobbies on behalf of those very casinos. The casinos that buy that agenda are, in turn, the long‑running paying clients of Mr. Cavanaugh's gaming‑licensing practice next door at 131 Rue Magnolia. Mr. Cavanaugh's daughter is, on the published record of her own corporate website, the producer of Mayor Gilich's re‑election campaign. Mayor Gilich is the Mayor whose Council includes Mr. Glavan and the six other members, three of whom — the undersigned has spent the last several months establishing — have material conflicts of their own. The Mayor casts the tie‑breaker. The Mayor is produced by Kerry. Kerry is the daughter of Michael. Michael's clients want the Mayor's votes. That is, dear reader, what is meant by a closed loop.
The new face: Wayne Gray, Ward 1, the torch‑passer
The undersigned reported in Public Ground on Tuesday that Mr. Glavan, after thirteen years as the casino lobby's reliable Council vote, has — under the heat of The Burger King, Part III and a pending state quo‑warranto petition — passed the torch. The torch was passed, on the published Council record of April 21, 2026, to Wayne Gray, Ward 1. It was Mr. Gray who, on the same evening that Mayor Gilich buried the D'Anella Park surplus declaration in the Consent Agenda as Item 5E, introduced Item 4F — the short‑term‑rental zoning pincer that would convert single‑family neighborhoods around D'Anella Park into the kind of multi‑family casino‑labor housing the casino lobby has been quietly waiting for. The undersigned named the maneuver in print, in plain English, the same week. Mr. Gray was the new Mr. Glavan, in fresh paint.
What the undersigned did not, as of Tuesday, know — and what the publication has begun, only this week, to learn — is that Mr. Gray's prepared remarks, the floor speech with which Mr. Gray defended the casino‑labor zoning pincer in Council on the April 21 record, do not appear, to readers familiar with Mr. Gray's prior years on the Council, to be the work product of Mr. Gray's own pen. The phrasing has the cadence of a polished agency draft. The vocabulary is the vocabulary of the marketing brief, not the zoning code. The structure is a three‑beat case‑study format that the undersigned has, in the last forty‑eight hours, found himself looking at on a different website at 129 Rue Magnolia.
The undersigned will not, in this article, accuse Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard of having ghost‑written Councilman Gray's defense of the casino‑labor land grab. The undersigned has not yet confirmed it. The undersigned will, however, ask the question publicly, on the front page, with the names spelled correctly: did The Prime Time Agency at 129 Rue Magnolia draft, edit, polish, or otherwise produce the prepared floor remarks delivered by Councilman Wayne Gray on the April 21, 2026 D'Anella Park surplus and short‑term‑rental items?
If yes, the loop has not just closed. The loop has, in candor, started to narrate itself.
This is what “cartel” means in this publication
The undersigned uses the word cartel, dear reader, in an article like this one, with care, and with a meaning that is somewhat narrower than the dictionary's. A cartel, in this publication, is what one calls a small, durable, geographically‑concentrated group of professionals, drawn from a single denomination, a single school system, a single chamber of commerce, and a single two‑block stretch of a side street, who happen, over the course of a generation or two, to keep showing up on opposite sides of the same transactions, in alternation, with the predictability of a metronome — a public official voting an entitlement, a private lawyer drafting it, a public official re‑elected by the lawyer's daughter, a private agency producing the next official's floor speech, the next official voting the next entitlement, and so on, around and around, with the casino industry on one side of the ledger and the public trust on the other.
That is the loop. The loop has names. This article has supplied the names.
And, dear reader, Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard is, on the published record this publication has assembled, a friend of the cartel, and a part of it. The undersigned does not, again, accuse Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard of any unlawful act. The undersigned simply notes, for the avoidance of doubt, that producing the campaign of a Mayor whose Council votes the entitlements of one's father's clients is, in the dry argot of conflict‑of‑interest jurisprudence, what is known as a cognizable appearance problem, and in the wetter argot of this publication, a member of the family business.
And one more observation, dear reader, from the week this article was put together — or: who, exactly, has come to the rescue of Sam
In the seventy‑two hours leading up to this article's publication, a new Facebook group appeared — the publication will not name it on the front page today, the publication will simply describe it — dedicated, insofar as an unaffiliated reader could tell, to the project of rebutting this publication's coverage of the Mummy Cartel. The project is going, in the undersigned's candid assessment, poorly, on account of the coverage being, in the main, extensively documented and extensively sourced. The effort continues regardless. The undersigned has been shown screenshots.
The undersigned will pause, dear reader, to remark on what the launch of the group itself, as an event in this town's civic life, accomplished — to the considerable benefit of the publication, and to the considerable detriment, the undersigned will respectfully submit, of the Mummy Cartel's institutional discretion. The Mummy Cartel, in the act of organizing to defend itself, revealed itself. A group of this nature does not assemble in the abstract. It assembles around a roster. The roster has names. The names have, in the seventy‑two hours since the group went up, posted, commented, liked, applauded, "about‑timed," and otherwise signed in, on the public record of Mark Zuckerberg's Facebook server, with a degree of operational‑security discipline that the undersigned will charitably describe as retiree‑forward. The publication has the screenshots. The publication has the timestamps. The publication has, in plain English, the defenders' bench.
The undersigned will use this paragraph to telegraph, in the politest editorial manner, what is coming. The defenders' bench is several names long. The publication will not, on the present front page, run down the entire bench. The publication will, however, work through the bench in the cycles to come, one installment at a time, with the deference and the receipts each subject is owed. The first name on the publication's list is the name on the front page of the present article. That is, dear reader, not an accident of editorial sequencing. That is the order in which the publication intends to proceed.
The undersigned addressed Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard directly — and Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard, in keeping with cartel doctrine, went MIA
The undersigned will report, on this point in the article and for the historical record, that the undersigned did, in the comment thread of the very Facebook group in which Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard had so cheerfully "about‑timed," address Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard by name, in plain English, and on the public record, with a polite invitation to engage with the publication's coverage on the merits. The undersigned's comment was, the undersigned will allow, neither friendly nor unfriendly, neither personal nor impersonal: it was, in the genteel parlance of the trade, direct.
Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard, dear reader, went MIA.
The "About time" had not, as of the moment the undersigned hit Reply, been particularly hard to type. The applause for the Cartel's enforcement arm had not been hard to type either. What appears, on the present record, to have been hard to type was the response to the publication's name in the same paragraph as one's own, in writing, in the same Facebook thread one had, until that moment, been so eager to populate.
This is, dear reader, a pattern this publication has been observing for some time. The Mummy Cartel, when permitted to operate at the comfortable distance of the third‑person plural — "they," "those guys at BPU," "the people writing those articles" — is positively voluble. The Mummy Cartel, when addressed in the second person, by name, on the same page, in the same week — "Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard," "Mr. Wilson," "Councilman Glavan" — goes shy. Mr. Glavan went shy. Mr. Wilson, the publication is informed, is now going shy. Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard has, on the present record, gone shy.
The undersigned would like, on this point, to register a respectful complaint. The undersigned has every confidence that Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard — a public‑relations professional by trade, the daughter of a casino‑licensing virtuoso with nearly half a century at the regulatory bar, and presumably, the publication suspects from her present civic affiliations, deeply entrenched in the broader institutional life of the Mummy Cartel — can, when sufficiently motivated, marshal a more spirited response than silence. The publication has read a great many of her industry's case studies in the last several days. The publication has every reason to expect, on the basis of the agency's own published portfolio, that the agency's principal is in possession of the rhetorical equipment necessary to engage in a substantive front‑page exchange with a Coast publication that has, on the front page, named the agency by name.
The publication invites Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard, in the most cordial editorial spirit, to bring more. Please? The publication runs corrections loud, on the front page, with the offending paragraph quoted in full and the corrected version printed beneath it in larger type. The publication runs responses, when responses are sent, in their entirety. The publication runs guest columns, when guest columns are submitted, with editor's notes acknowledging the disagreement. The publication is, in plain English, an open door.
The address, once more for the avoidance of doubt: contact@peoplevsbiloxi.com. The undersigned would, in candor, prefer not to have to write Part II without the benefit of Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard's professional perspective. The publication awaits.
In the comment threads of the group's posts, the publication has been shown, among the supportive voices, Mrs. Kerry Cavanaugh‑Stoddard, commenting, applauding, supporting. “About time,” reads one of the comments the publication was shown. The undersigned will not, without a second confirmatory screenshot and a timestamp, publish the comment verbatim in this article. The undersigned will merely note that a proprietor of a political‑marketing agency whose name is on the Mayor's re‑election has surfaced, in her private capacity, in a Facebook group whose explicit purpose is the rehabilitation of that Mayor's administration against the present publication's coverage of it. This, too, is a data point.
And the data point sharpens, dear reader, in two directions, when one asks the obvious follow‑up questions: (1) who, in particular, in that Facebook group, has Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard surfaced to defend, and (2) who, in particular, has surfaced alongside her. On the screenshots the publication has been shown, the answer to question (1) is — and the careful reader of Leave Our City will not, the undersigned suspects, fall out of his chair — Samuel Poulos. Yes, dear reader: the same Mr. Poulos who, on the public record of the Biloxi Police Department's October 20, 2020 arrest report, was charged with Drunk in Public and Disorderly Conduct and Failure to Comply with Lawful Order; the same Mr. Poulos who, in April 2026, told a federal civil‑rights plaintiff to leave our city on a Biloxi Politics Uncensored thread; the same Mr. Poulos whose father, Jimmy Poulos, has sat on the Biloxi Planning Commission for forty‑four years while simultaneously running Poulos Insurance Agency LLC. The Mummy Cartel, at the present moment, is in — on the screenshots the publication has been shown — defensive formation, and Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard is on the line, defending the Cartel's enforcement arm. That, too, is a data point.
And on question (2) — who has surfaced alongside Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard in the Facebook group — the publication has been shown one further name that the regular reader of this publication will, similarly, not fall out of his chair to learn: Mr. Aaron Wilson. The reader of The Strip, Part III already knows Mr. Wilson by his portfolio: he is married to Jacqueline Gilich Wilson, FoFo's niece; he is therefore the Mayor's nephew‑in‑law; and he is, on the public record this publication established four months ago, the Gilich family's reliable Facebook attack dog, the one who shows up under any post critical of the administration to type, in capital letters, what the family will not type in its own name. The publication has been shown screenshots of Mr. Wilson commenting in the same Facebook group as Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard, defending the same set of administration interests, in the same week, on the same coverage. The Marketing Department of the Mummy Cartel and the Gilich‑family Facebook detail are, in plain English, in the same breakroom.
The undersigned will draw, for the convenience of the reader, the additional thread the Strip III reader has perhaps already drawn for himself. Mrs. Wilson, FoFo's niece, owns and operates Biloxi Beach Resort Rentals, LLC — the F‑rated, fourteen‑BBB‑complaint short‑term‑rental company that is, as the reader of this article has already learned, also a Prime Time Agency commercial client. The Mayor's marketing agency markets the Mayor's niece's business. The Mayor's nephew‑in‑law shows up in the Facebook group with the Mayor's marketing agency owner. The cartel is not, dear reader, a metaphor. The cartel is a Sunday dinner.
The undersigned will note, in the interest of editorial transparency, that The Strip, Part III — the article in which the Wilsons' file was opened — was, by the publication's internal disposition, treated as completed work at the time of its publication in January, and the file has, since that publication, sat closed. The publication's standard practice, dear reader, is that subjects whose conduct has been documented to the publication's editorial satisfaction are, in the absence of further activity, permitted to recede into the calm middle distance of the publication's archive, where they may live out the remainder of their days without further mention on the front page. The Wilson file is, as of the morning this article goes to press, not being reopened. The publication has the present article to write, and the next several articles after it to write, and the editorial calendar is, for the moment, full. The undersigned simply records, in this paragraph, where the Wilsons stand in the queue: archived, with a note in the margin that says — in the publication's own internal shorthand — "may resurface." The note in the margin is, on the screenshots and on the client roster the present article documents, beginning to look like a forecast. The publication has not yet acted on the forecast. Whether the publication acts on it is, in the ordinary course, a function of whether the subjects of the file give the publication a fresh reason to. The undersigned will leave the matter there for now.
Open thread: the suspected insurance racket — and the $10,000 fine that does not, on its face, fit the offense
The publication will, in this paragraph, leave the front page of the receipts and put a marker, in the margin, on a thread the publication is presently working — the suspected insurance racket on Pass Road. The reader of Leave Our City will recall that Samuel Poulos's day job is at Poulos Insurance Agency LLC, the Nationwide branch his father has operated for the better part of fifty years while simultaneously sitting on the Biloxi Planning Commission. The publication has, in the days since Leave Our City ran, received tips suggesting that the Poulos Insurance line of business and the Poulos Planning‑Commission line of business are, in the practical operation of small‑Coast commercial real estate, not as separable as the family's Form 990s would have it. Specifically: that the agency's commercial book of business overlaps, in non‑trivial part, with the very developer and contractor universe whose plats and conditional uses pass over the patriarch's desk in his unpaid civic capacity. The publication is, on the present record, asking. The publication is not, on the present record, alleging.
The undersigned will note, in passing, that the publication did not arrive at the Poulos‑Insurance line of inquiry through investigative cunning. The publication arrived at it through a route the readership of any small American newspaper will find familiar: the subject of the inquiry pointed the way. The publication had, in the period leading up to Leave Our City, no particular reason to look at Poulos Insurance Agency LLC at all. The publication had a different story it was working on. Then Samuel Poulos, on a public Biloxi Politics Uncensored thread celebrating an unrelated planning‑ordinance victory, produced a public eruption of such peculiar intensity — the Frog Face, the nerd buddy, the leave our city — in defense of an entirely different case the patriarch was about to vote on, that the publication concluded, on the evidence of the eruption alone, that there was a reason for the eruption. Eruptions of that volume, in the undersigned's modest experience covering small American towns, are not produced by men whose day jobs are uncomplicated. The Poulos eruption, dear reader, was the lighthouse. The publication followed the beam.
The reader will note — the undersigned would like the reader to note in particular — that this is the second consecutive article in which a Mummy Cartel subject's overreaction to coverage has done the publication's reconnaissance work for it. Mr. Glavan retired the day after The Burger King, Part III ran. Mr. Poulos, the elder, has not yet commented in writing, but the family's Facebook detail has, as the present article documents, been busy on his behalf. The publication encourages the cartel to keep reacting at its present volume. It saves the publication the cost of subpoenas.
The publication has additionally been told — and this is the marker the undersigned wishes the reader to retain — that Samuel Poulos was, at some point in the recent past, hit with a civil fine in the neighborhood of $10,000. The publication does not, as of this writing, have the consent order. The publication does not, as of this writing, have the underlying citation. The publication has, however, the Mississippi insurance statute open in front of it, and the statute tells the reader what a $10,000 civil penalty on a single insurance agent typically means.
Under Miss. Code Ann. § 83‑17‑217, the Mississippi Insurance Commissioner may, for ordinary producer‑licensing violations, impose civil penalties of up to $1,000 per violation for non‑willful conduct and up to $5,000 per violation for willful conduct. Under Miss. Code Ann. § 83‑5‑209 — the unfair‑trade‑practices statute — non‑willful violations carry penalties up to $1,000 per act, capped at $10,000 in the aggregate per examination period; willful violations carry penalties up to $25,000 per act. The Mississippi Department of Insurance's typical consent‑order range for ordinary administrative matters — lapsed continuing‑education, late renewal, minor recordkeeping — sits, as the regulator's published enforcement archive will tell the reader, in the $250 to $1,000 range. Mid‑tier consent orders — unauthorized transactions, premium misappropriation under threshold, failure to maintain errors‑and‑omissions coverage — sit in the $2,500 to $5,000 range.
A $10,000 fine on a single agent, on the face of the statute, is therefore either: the maximum aggregate penalty for an entire examination period of non‑willful unfair‑trade‑practice conduct under § 83‑5‑209; or two willful licensing violations stacked under § 83‑17‑217; or a different statute entirely (perhaps not even insurance, in which case the publication apologizes in advance to the reader for having dragged Title 83 in for nothing). It is, in any of those readings, elevated. It is not the routine slap on the wrist. It is, in the pattern of consent orders the Department of Insurance has historically published in this range, the kind of fine that follows a pattern of violations across multiple policyholders, premium diversion, operating while suspended, or repeated non‑compliance after prior warnings.
The undersigned will note, for the avoidance of doubt, that asking the question is not making the accusation. The publication is neither alleging that Mr. Poulos has done anything unlawful in the operation of the agency, nor that the fine, whatever its underlying citation, is anything other than the lawful product of a properly‑noticed administrative proceeding. The publication is observing only that the amount of the fine, if it is in fact in the range the publication has been told, sits at the ceiling of the statutory scale for ordinary insurance‑licensing matters — and that the ceiling of the statutory scale, as a rule, is not the floor on which an industry pillar of forty‑four‑year Planning Commissioner standing tends to land for paperwork. The publication is curious to read the consent order. The publication invites the reader who has it — the docket number, the citing authority, the pleading style, the underlying conduct — to write at tips@peoplevsbiloxi.com. The Mississippi Department of Insurance's public enforcement archive sits at mid.ms.gov/companies/enforcement-actions for the reader who would like to start with the publication.
This is, dear reader, an installment in the publication's running effort to map the entirety of the cartel's commercial bloodstream. The Marketing Department piece is now on the front page. The Insurance Agency piece is, on the present record, a marker. The Planning Commission piece is, on the published record of the prior installment, an arsenal. The reader will not be kept waiting on Part II.
The undersigned will name the pattern, in plain English, because it is the heart of every Mummy Cartel article this publication has ever published, and because the present article is the article in which the pattern crystallized. The patriarchs of the Mummy Cartel have served on the boards, the commissions, the committees, and the bars of this town for the better part of half a century each. Jimmy Poulos: forty‑four years on the Planning Commission. Michael Cavanaugh: forty‑nine years licensing the casinos. The fathers have, by simple actuarial mathematics, used up most of the political capital they were ever going to use in their own names. The work of preserving that capital, in the next generation, is the work of the children. Samuel runs the Facebook enforcement. Kerry runs the political television. The fathers built the racket. The children are the racket's communications office. This is not, dear reader, a marketing agency. This is a family business in its second generation, defending a family franchise in its first.
And it is, again, on the screenshots the publication has been shown, Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard who, in the present cycle, is on the line for Sam. This is, dear reader, what is meant by “a friend and part of the cartel.”
Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard, as long as the publication has your attention: you are, in professional candor and with the respect due a fellow Biloxi business owner, a public‑relations practitioner. That is your trade. That is what 129 Rue Magnolia advertises on its front door. The rehabilitation of the Mummy Cartel's public image, in the precise week this publication has placed you on the front page of its home site, is — to borrow the term of art from your own industry — your ballfield. The undersigned does not, in this article, predict how you will handle the assignment. The undersigned merely notes, with the attention of a reporter who has now added you to a permanent tab on his browser, that you are, as of this morning, in the trenches.
Welcome to the story, Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard. Let us see how you handle this.
IX. CLOSING — THE BURGER KING, THE GAMING ATTORNEY, AND THE ADWOMAN
A short summary, dear reader, in case the reader is the kind of reader who skips to the end.
The Mayor of Biloxi was re‑elected last June with eighty‑point‑two percent of the vote, an absurd margin in any honest American electorate, defended by a Marketing Department that turns out to have been operated by the daughter of the gaming‑licensing attorney who, for nearly half a century, has been the lawyer of record on most of the casino entitlements the Mayor's Council has approved.
The Marketing Department is at 129 Rue Magnolia. The gaming‑licensing law office is at 131 Rue Magnolia. The Mayor's office is six minutes away on foot. The cathedral where these families were baptized, married, and buried is around the corner. The Catholic‑school foundation board they sit on is in the same building. The Masters Leadership cohort they network in convenes monthly, downtown, with the same construction‑company executives who built the Mummy Cartel's last casino, the same hospital‑system administrators who paid the law firms that defend the City in federal court, and the same chamber‑of‑commerce executive who shows up to every ribbon cutting in the photograph beside the Mayor.
The Burger King — Kenny Glavan, Ward 6 Council President, federal defendant, recently retired from one job and freshly registered as a candidate for another — has been the publication's running joke for some time, a Mummy Cartel succession plan in A/B testing. The undersigned will note, as the Burger King's nominal retirement deepens, that there is precisely one Coast political agency with the production credit to flip the Burger King's domain registrations into the next mayoral campaign cycle.
It is at 129 Rue Magnolia.
The undersigned has the WHOIS records, dear reader. The undersigned has the obituaries. The undersigned has the screenshot of the Prime Time project page on the FoFo Gilich re‑election. The undersigned has the Bar registration of Michael F. Cavanaugh. The undersigned has the Better Business Bureau listing for The Prime Time Agency at 129 Rue Magnolia and the Superpages listing for Michael F. Cavanaugh at 131 Rue Magnolia. The undersigned has the Masters Leadership cohort. The undersigned has the parish.
And the undersigned, dear reader, has a Facebook page, a publication, a readership, and the patience of a man who has, by now, been introducing himself to this town for the better part of a calendar year.
Mrs. Cavanaugh‑Stoddard: the undersigned does not, for the avoidance of doubt, accuse you of any unlawful act in this article. You have built a business. The business has a website. The website tells the story. The undersigned is, on this front page, simply amplifying the press release you wrote about yourself. If the publication's understanding of your client list, your family tree, or your office address is in any respect inaccurate, the undersigned invites correction by email at contact@peoplevsbiloxi.com. The publication corrects errors loud, fast, and on the front page.
Mr. Cavanaugh: the undersigned looks forward to the day, in due course, when the publication has occasion to discuss your gaming‑practice client list at greater length. Forty‑nine years of gaming‑licensing on the Mississippi Gulf Coast is a substantial corpus of public‑record material. The reader will be patient.
Mr. Mayor: eighty‑point‑two percent of an electorate did not, in candor, vote for Andrew M. Gilich, Jr., on the merits of his third term. Eighty‑point‑two percent of an electorate voted for whatever the Marketing Department at 129 Rue Magnolia put on the airwaves, in plain English, in friendly fonts, with a flag pin in the b‑roll. The undersigned will be revisiting each of those eighty‑point‑two percentage points in subsequent installments. Sit down.
Class is in session.
This article documents public proceedings, public records, and the publicly‑published marketing claims of a Mississippi limited‑liability company. Public officials, executors of public trusts, and businesses that publicly market themselves on the basis of their work for public officials are proper subjects of public commentary.
The undersigned is represented pro se in: Case 1:25-cv-00178-LG-RPM (S.D. Miss.); Case 1:25-cv-00233-LG-RPM (S.D. Miss.); Case 1:25-cv-00254-LG-RPM (S.D. Miss.); Case 1:26-cv-00069-LG-RPM (S.D. Miss.); Case 1:26-cv-00094-HSO-BWR (S.D. Miss.); and additional federal proceedings.
Have Information?
Have information about The Prime Time Agency, the Cavanaugh or Stoddard family, the FoFo Gilich 2025 re‑election campaign disbursements, City of Biloxi institutional contracts to Prime Time, Michael F. Cavanaugh's casino client roster, or the Mississippi Gulf Coast Business Council Masters Leadership cohort?
Contact us at tips@peoplevsbiloxi.com.
All tips are confidential.
"Prime Time led the successful re‑election campaign for Biloxi Mayor FoFo Gilich." — The Prime Time Agency, project case study, 2025
129 and 131 Rue Magnolia. Father licenses the casinos. Daughter sells the Mayor. Two doors. One hallway. One family. One racket. The Mummy Cartel is the Dixie Mafia, aged into geriatric incumbency, with a marketing department.
Class is in session.