October 2003 (v6 i2)
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Jake’s and Todd’s editorials are equally good
Come on, guys—cut it out
by Ryan Martinez, Associate Editor

When I walked into the hallowed Travesty office for the first time, one thing above all struck me. No, it wasn’t the sweltering heat of a room with no A/C. Nor was it the tsunami of cockroaches that has flayed the flesh off three Administrative Assistants to date. And much to my disappointment, it wasn’t an initiatory paddle poised to ferry pain and crabs to my bare and eager ass. What struck me, my friends, was the strong sense of mutual respect that existed between my Editor-in-Chief and his second-in-command.

Come on, guys. Both your editorials are great. Don’t be this way; you’re making the staff writers cry. One of them has even asked me if you guys are going to get a divorce. What am I to tell sweet, pig-tailed J.J.? To quote a revered figure who goes by the last name of King and who catalyzed civil action in order to improve race relations: “Can’t we all just get along?” I know we can, because I remember the happy beforetimes. Blow that fog of hateful rivalry away, dear friends and view with clarity these simpler days.

Todd, you recall that candle-lit dinner for two at Bella Notte, don’t you? After Tony laid down the most delightful plate of spaghetti, Jake offered you a meatball by rolling it to your side of the plate with his nose. And how each of you slurped up the opposite end of the same spaghetti strand, only to meet at the middle with a surprise kiss! Oh, how Tony beamed more than the moon itself when he saw his match-making ruse come to fruition! And, oh, how the enchantment of the moment caused me to fall face-down on my binoculars!

And Jake, do you remember that rainy night after a meeting when you stood outside, umbrella-less and crying, because your homemade Lorenzo Lamas t-shirt had been ruined? Who was it who came to your side with a freakin’ parasol to shield you from the rain? Do you remember? Yup, it was Todd. He cracked a joke about Lorenzo looking like a third-degree burn victim, and you laughed so hard that you popped a snot bubble—causing you guys to laugh even more! From my viewpoint in the adjacent bushes, the two of you looked like the very portrait of friendship.

What does it matter who wrote the best editorial when you have friendship? I implore you to put your enmity to rest and work for the greater good. The Travesty needs you. Our readers need you. And I think I can say, without a shred of hyperbole, that the universe needs you. And if you can’t make peace, then there’s only one manly way to settle this dispute: a no-holds-barred foxy boxing match. Don’t disappoint me, Jake—I’ve got $20 riding on you in the staff pool.
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