🚀 go-pugleaf

Pushing the eye back into it's socket, Mayor McCheese was deeply
impressed with his own work and felt that spill-over of pride that
he tried to disown from memories of his schooling stridencies,
but there was no denying that the effigy was superb.  He felt a
shudder of apprehension when he realized his gloved thumb was
sticking into the Clown's eye, and he had to remind himself of the
dummy's nonsentience so as to continue the work.  Tomorrow, there
would be the flames, and his work would be destroyed; he frowned
over the apparent futility and paradox in putting so much effort
into what would be but a goad to cause the pogrom to issue forth.
But, still, it was a damn good job, he had to admit, as he checked
the chalk skin tone against the lifesize cardboard cutout.

As he turned to grab the red, almost orange, hair from the then-bald
stand, he failed to notice the effigy's grin get ever-so-slightly
wider.

M