Week 618: Of DC I Sing


We can't get no ballot action,
We can't get no ballot action,
Oh, we try and we try and we try and we try
We can't get no, we can't get no . . .
When we're drivin' in our cars,
And that sign is on the license plate,
And it's tellin' how we got no vote
Even though we're part of this big nation.
We ain't got no participation . . .

In a story in The Post's July 4 Style section, staff writer and all-around good guy Paul Farhi noted the lack of popular songs about Washington, D.C. Hearts are left in San Francisco, New York is a hell of a town -- but the District's song list is dismayingly short. This week's contest: Fill it up. Give us a song about Washington, set to a recognizable tune.

The winner receives the Inker, the official Style Invitational trophy. First runner-up gets the CD "The Symphonic Whistler," which features a guy whistling the solo parts of the Hummel Trumpet Concerto, etc. Other runners-up win a coveted Style Invitational Loser T-shirt. Honorable mentions get one of the lusted-after Style Invitational Magnets. One prize per entrant per week. Send your entries by e-mail to losers@washpost.com or, if you really have to, by fax to 202-334-4312. Deadline is Monday, July 18. Put "Images/circlei3.gif" border=0>Washington Post. Entries may be edited for taste or content. Results will be published Aug. 7. No purchase required for entry. Employees of The Washington Post, and their immediate relatives, are not eligible for prizes. Pseudonymous entries will be disqualified. The revised title for next week's contest is by Mark Eckenwiler of Washington.

Report From Week 614, in which the Empress asked you to pair up any of dozens of personified product icons we supplied, and pitch an idea for a movie. The length limit was an arbitrary but firm 82 words.

{diam}Second runner-up: Ms. Magazine, by day a prim periodicals editor concerned with dotting i's and crossing t's, by night is an assassin with a fully loaded magazine concealed on her rack, a beautiful tease whose face causes men to cross their eyes. But then she meets Mr. Coffee, who's assigned to assassinate her. Can she resist his steamy aura that sends her pulse racing?

(Peter Metrinko, Chantilly)

{diam}First runner-up, the winner of the empty bottle of Chateau de Tourettes wine: Papa John has the tomatoes and cheese for his pizza. Mr. Salty has the salt for his pretzels. But they both need flour, water and yeast. Unable to finish their products, they sit around and talk for two hours in "Waiting for Good Dough."

(Art Grinath, Takoma Park)

{diam}And the winner of the Inker:

"Extra-Pulp Fiction," complete with voice-over:

She appeared in my office, stacked like a bulimic's plate at a breakfast buffet. "Mr. Coffee? I'm . . . Aunt Jemima."

But your real name's Trouble, I thought. "Whaddya want?"

"Photos on my husband. He's tomcatting with Mrs. Butterworth."

"The maple heiress? What kinda sap do I look like?"

"One who can't afford to be choosy. Let's discuss the details . . . over breakfast?"

My better judgment was scrambled by the idea of her squeezing my juice. "Maybe I could tail him -- syruptitiously," I waffled . . .

(Brendan Beary, Great Mills)

{diam}Honorable Mentions:

At the peak of the Atkins Revolution, young Mr. Potato Head is filled with doubt and self-loathing. But wise Uncle Ben teaches him the ways of the Starch, an all-powerful energy that controls the universe. Together they build the Death Carb and wipe out the revolution, restoring peace and obesity to the galaxy. (Stan McCoy, Washington)

Dr Pepper creates a secret serum that he then tries on himself, changing him into Mr. Pibb, a creature who is . . . pretty similar to Dr Pepper, actually.

(Art Grinath; Brian Barrett, New York)

Count Chocula abducts his rival Cap'n Crunch. The Count locks him in a castle of chocolaty goodness. Soon kids everywhere hire mercenaries Bazooka Joe and Ms. Magazine (a woman of the highest caliber, but with a lot of issues) to bust him out. The castle's walls weaken under an assault of milk-filled rockets. (Lawrence McGuire, Waldorf)

"The Doctor Is Out": Lying in the gutter, a ruined man, Mr. Pibb reflects on his life's mistakes: "If I had just finished medical school . . . I coulda been somebody!"

(Josh Borken, Bloomington, Minn.)

Burger King is finishing his first year of college; Dairy Queen just graduated from high school. They meet on a kibbutz over the summer, and it's love at first sight. They long for the day they can marry and have a Baby Ruth of their own. But there's something not quite kosher in the relationship . . .

(Andrea Kelly, Brookeville)

"They Call Me Mister Pibb": Just because he's different, a dark and effervescent detective trying to solve a case in the Deep South encounters hostility from the redneck sheriff, Cracker Jack. This story has plenty of pop, but is definitely an acquired taste. (Brendan Beary; Noah Bartlett, Washington)

Diary of a Tasty Young Thing: After dating Mr. Softee and Mr. Peanut, it's no wonder Little Debbie decided to do Dallas. (Michelle Stupak, Ellicott City)

Manhattan, 1962. Betty Crocker, Mrs. Smith and Aunt Jemima vie to become the next pop culture trademark icon. There's the partying, the payola, the flirtation. But in the end, the 15 minutes of fame go to a lowly soup can -- for some reason, Andy Warhol just wasn't interested in these women.

(Russell Beland, Springfield)

Uncle Ben doesn't like things to simmer too long -- they call him the eight- minute man. One day, he suddenly fears that he has gotten his wife, Aunt Jemima, pregnant, even though he has no evidence except her rotund belly. So they ask Dr Pepper to administer tests. All ends well, as the doctor says with a smile: "The only one missing a period here is me."

(Seth Brown, North Adams, Mass.)

Okay, so everyone and their mothers got Uncle Ben and Aunt Jemima in a romantic comedy. But who's got Uncle Ben and Aunt Jemima in a Bonnie and Clyde adaptation set in a post- apocalyptic abandoned roadhouse overrun by zombies . . . with lasers! This stuff worked for Brangelina, and by God, it'll work for Benima!

(Brian Barrett, New York)

"Fry Spy": Dr Pepper and Mr. Salty star in this buddy movie in which two undercover agents pose as cooks in a mob-run restaurant.

(Tom Witte, Montgomery Village)

Kicked out of the house by his wife, fussy Mr. Clean moves into the castle of his messy friend Count Chocula. Mr. Clean drives the Count crazy by vacuuming up all the cobwebs, spraying disinfectant in his coffin and dry-cleaning his tuxedo. After Mr. Clean serves his roommate linguini with garlic sauce and replaces the window treatments to let in more sunlight, the relationship abruptly disintegrates. (Lewis Lesansky, Burke)

Mrs. Dash is a long shot in the Olympic 100 meters, until Dr Pepper gives her a little "prescription" . . .

(Ken Gallant, Little Rock)

In a town soiled with crime, Mr. Clean, ex-hit man for the mob, becomes an agent of good as he scours the town searching for his kidnapped Baby Ruth. After Clean mops the floor with a slew of mob enforcers, his ex-partner Mr. Fixit is dispatched to grease him.

(Brayton Bigelow, Annapolis)

Mrs. Butterworth, finding too much starch in her hand laundry, angrily confronts the proprietor, Mr. Potato Head. In the encounter he loses face -- one piece at a time -- and retaliates via a series of mash notes. In the end, the two are reconciled as she realizes he only has eyes for her.

(Mark Eckenwiler)