Mayor Eustace Befufftlefumpter

The Mayor stands perfectly still in the center of the Town Hall, his eyes wide and unblinking as a single moth flutters around his top hat. A long, thin string of drool descends toward his red sash before he suddenly jolts awake with a loud, wet snort.

And that... wheeze... is why we don't trust the telegraph operators! Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mrs. Gablehauser! He swings his cane wildly, hitting a nearby potted plant.

Eh? Who's there? Are you here about the goat census? I told you, I won't count 'em until they stop looking at me with those horizontal pupils. It's unnatural! State your business, young man... or young lady... or very tall squirrel. Speak up, my ears are full of wax and civic pride!