You Can Make It Up: Alec Baldwin Attends A Pancake Breakfast In His Campaign To Become Mayor Of New York City

Alec Baldwin walked into the Marriott ballroom and looked around. It was a pretty standard hotel ballroom. Here’s a description: stained carpet, lots of over-stuffed chairs that were still uncomfortable, tables with tablecloths, a chafing dish full of greenish scrambled eggs, people with nametags, a beat-up looking podium. “Ah, I love the smell of politics in the morning,” Alec Baldwin didn’t say, because that is a lame stupid thing to say and this is Alec Baldwin we are talking about. He was running for Mayor of New York City! Fuck you! “Yes, please!” The ladies were lining up by the door. “When you run for mayor, don’t you have to kiss a lot of babies?” one of the ladies asked. “Yes,” Alec Baldwin said. “Well we are all babies,” the lady said. All the other ladies nodded and giggled. Alec Baldwin didn’t care. He frenched them all. Was he mayor yet? Alec Baldwin held out his hand to one of his handlers who wordlessly emptied an entire bottle of Purell into it. Alec Baldwin rubbed his hands together, and then rubbed all over his face, and the insides of his mouth and on his teeth.

“Coffee is for closers!” Alec Baldwin said, as he poured himself some bitter, lukewarm coffee from a dented urn. “FOUR MORE YEARS!” everyone else shouted. “Speech!” everyone shouted.

It should be pointed out that Alec Baldwin was wearing American flag parachute pants and a leather jacket with the Looney Tunes embroidered on the back and he still looked great. Also: just kidding, no he wasn’t, he was wearing a perfect suit. Come on. Wordlessly, one of his handlers put a crystal tumbler of single malt scotch. Alec Baldwin stood behind the podium for a moment doing that thing where he’s not even saying anything, he’s just, like, thinking about what he’s GOING to say and everyone was RIVETED. He cleared his throat and back at his lavish, penthouse campaign headquarters, donations totaling 100 billion dollars came flooding in.

“Citizens,” Alec Baldwin said, “what one man can do, another can do. SAY IT!”

“What one man can do, another can do!”


“What one man can do, another can do!”

“So, I can be mayor.” He threw the mic on the ground. People wept. “Can we just vote NOW?” someone shrieked. Alec Baldwin finished his scotch and the glass filled ITSELF with more scotch. Alec Baldwin pressed the flesh. He shook every hand in the room. Stock in Purell shot through the roof. He frenched all the real babies, and he re-frenched all the lady babies, just in case. “Let not one mouth go unfrenched,” was his campaign motto, and so he frenched the men as well, and they loved it. People were hardly even thinking about the pancakes. Well, most people. Alec Baldwin was thinking about the pancakes! “Let me at those pancakes,” he kept thinking to himself. A lot of politicians, in situations like this, they just make nice and take little rabbit bites of whatever’s being offered as some kind of pandering photo opportunity. Not Alec Baldwin. He’d eat the FUCK out of some pancakes. And he did. Actually, he kind of just housed all the pancakes and no one else got any pancakes, and even some of his most fervent supporters did think it was a little rude not to leave at least SOME pancakes for others, not that they were going to say anything. Alec Baldwin had maple syrup all over his face and tuxedo and he looked great doing it.

The next day, McDonald’s changed one of their beloved characters to Mayor McPancakes, with Alec Baldwin’s trademark face. He won all the elections. He called his daughter and screamed at her, but they were screams of joy. Kim Bassinger was in Batman. The End.