New York – Thousands of soda drinkers will slowly walk one hundred yards to the Mayor’s office tomorrow to protest the city ban on large size sodas which goes into effect Tuesday. Several hundred were already camped today at City Hall Park, the starting line for the “march,” sitting on strained lawn chairs, coolers filled with forbidden colas.
“Wait til I get my sausage fingers round his Commie neck,” Hank Gathers warned, sucking neon yellow up a tube from a custom “Dew bladder” down his pants. “I can put whatever I want in my dang mouth,” he continued. “It’s Constitution, like reverse freedom of speech.”
Tex Hooper agreed. “I ain’t about to start drinkin’ that shit they put on plants. Get me some Brawno or Surge, sixty four ounce, breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
Organizers of the “Liquid Courage” protest say 30,000 soda drinkers are expected to march to the Mayor’s office, where a White Castle buffet will be available at the finish line, thanks to a generous gift from the Soda and Sugared Beverage Association of America. “We’re coming for you, Mr. Nanny Mayor,” spokesman Seamus Azucar said.
“They’ll have to catch me first,” the Mayor japed, jogging in spandex at a morning press conference. “People don’t know what’s good for them,” he continued, raising the treadmill incline to thirty degrees. “Three hundred pound flesh bags out there, just waiting to fall through a subway grate. It’s disgusting.”
But protesters insist sixteen ounces cannot quench their thirst. “I like my soder like my women. Sweet, dark, and large, know what I mean,” Mr. Hooper said. “Gimme some ice cold black gold Pepsi, and none of that crystal swill.”
Cruising at 10mph, the Mayor sipped a bottle of snow-melt from the Himalayas, and explained that surging waistlines will inevitably lead to soaring health costs. He previewed the next phase of his controversial S.L.O.B. Initiative with a smile. “No more Mayo. It’s white death in a jar. And it tastes like old jizz.”
UPDATE: despite a judge’s ruling, protesters were still planning to march on City Hall. “I didn’t go and put sweat-pants on for nothing,” Mr. Gathers said.