I’m not going to lie to you — even though I’m the most powerful figurehead in Bootleg City, I don’t have all the answers. That’s why I often turn to other mayors of other imaginary cities so we can talk shop, compare mistresses, and swap cookie recipes. Recently I called Mayor P.R. Nelson of Erotic City to find out what he’s learned at the top of the municipal food chain.
Me: Mayor Nelson, thank you for taking the time to do this interview.
Nelson: I would die 4 U.
Me: Why, thank you! It’s rare to have that kind of support from another politician. Now, Mr. Mayor–
Nelson: My name is Prince. And I am funky.
Me: Good, I was hoping we could skip the formalities right up front. You can call me Robert. Now, Prince, your critics have accused you of — and I’m quoting here — “doing something close to nothing but different than the day before.” Of course, you’ve been in office since the mid-’80s, so clearly you’re doing something the people of Erotic City appreciate, but does criticism like that ever get under your skin?
Nelson: I just can’t believe all the things people say. Am I black or white? Am I straight or gay? Do I believe in God? Do I believe in me?
Me: So it does get to you. I’m glad to know I’m not the only one. And for the record, I always thought you were black and straight. But speaking of God, in recent years you’ve been referencing him more and more in your speeches. Do you ever worry that you might alienate some of your more liberal supporters with your religious views?
Nelson: Am I the weaker man because I understand that love must be the master plan?
Me: I don’t think so, but let’s not pretend elected officials don’t have to hug the middle of the road sometimes to get the votes they need.
I never watched a full episode of The Osbournes, one of the first reality programs to focus on famous people and their everyday lives, but it was hard to escape its net: Ozzy’s daughter Kelly recorded an album for Epic despite limited musical skills; his son, Jack, appeared in a few episodes of Dawson’s Creek despite nonexistent acting skills; his wife, Sharon, got her own daytime talk show despite having trouble completing a sentence without the F word; and Ozzy himself, a heavy-metal icon who once fronted the legendary Black Sabbath, found a new career as a mumbling, shuffling punchline who was (mostly) in on the joke. The entire family even had a cameo in the third Austin Powers movie. It was too much too soon, so when The Osbournes finally stopped production in 2005, it felt like it’d been on the air much longer.
But enough about my cover version dreams. This song hooked me from the very first moment I saw the video in the dawning hours of MTV. There was something so heartbreaking about that chorus, no matter how funny the video was. (Keyboardist Tony Hymas should have been an actor, he was so good here.) When the clip ends, with singer Jim Diamond getting carried off in an abandoned car by a junkyard magnet, I just wanted to cry. They’re sending him off to die! Won’t somebody do something? 
