In honor of the Easter holiday, I thought we’d take this time to reaffirm our beliefs as Key Rats. Please, read and speak aloud:
“We believe in one Key, the Island, the Village, maker of condos and houses, of all that is rich and less rich. We believe in one Home, Key Biscayne, the only important Key, eternally begotten of Key Rats, Key from Key, Isle from Isle, true Key from true Key, elitist, not inclusive, one in being with its Rats. Through It all things were made…better. For us Rats and our salvation It has really high property tax, limited space, and a ten-mile toll road separating it from mainland trash: by the power of the Rats, It was born of the county, and became Village. For our sins It was given its own overly-funded police department; we were tailgated, pulled over, and ticketed for no reason. On another day we were followed out of 7-11 and our licenses and registrations were checked—again, for no reason: we are still Rats, still hard, and still live on the Key. Even if we move, we will come again in glory to buy condos and/or houses, and the Ratdom will have no end. We believe in boating, the Ski Hole, and Regattas on the sandbar by Nixon’s house. Our friend with the boat: he is worshiped and glorified (and, mostly likely, used). He doesn’t really care as long as you bring girls and/or alcohol. We believe in Sir Pizza, crustless, square-chopped, and possibly dipped in Ranch. We acknowledge one option for going out during the week: Greenstreet. We look for the promotion of clubs, and the free bottles that are to come. Amen.”
Happy Easter, My Fellow Rats. Don’t worry, Jesus would have wanted it this way.
P.S. I’m going to hell for sure.
P.P.S. But, I’m going to talk to Barry about opening a Sir Pizza franchise there. I’m gonna be riiiiiich!