Outstanding Quincy Citizen of the Year Award given to mysterious cat

Article by Brunk Edwards / Photos courtesy of the World Wide Web

Mayor Thomas Koch awarded the prize of the 2009 Outstanding Quincy Citizen of the Year to a mysterious cat who was a last-minute addition on the nomination ballot.

The awards, which were held last night at booth #6 of the Beale Street Brigham’s restaurant, featured live music from a 1989 jukebox and full catering from the ice cream parlor itself. It was attended by the mayor, top aides from City Hall, a small delegation of the local press, and the award-winning cat, Leo-Hector.

Leo-Hector, previous address unknown, but now residing in a penthouse suite on Quincy Shore Drive, arrived at the award ceremony by way of McGrath Taxi, his pre-furred (oh please...) method of transportation. With absolutely no expression on his face, Leo-Hector jumped out of the cab’s back window, leaving behind a generous $20 tip which was nearly $20 more than the tip Mayor Koch left for his delivery of Papa Gino’s meat-lover's pizza.

This caused a brief moment of awkward silence, as the owners of Brigham’s were forced to accommodate the outside food source, and the Papa Gino’s delivery man was forced to walk back to his work a mere twenty feet away with only thirty-five cents to show for his troubles.

Spirits rose, however, only moments later, as Stu Sodapopaninski, the head cook at Brigham’s, took a cue from Leo-Hector’s expressionless yawn to fire up Danzig’s “Mother” at an ear-splitting volume.

Joe Schlopp, former assistant to the mayor's assistant, opened the ceremony by recounting the many acts that led to Leo-Hector winning the Outstanding Quincy Citizen of 2009 Award.

“It was a close win this year," bumbled Schlopp. "We had Jimmy McMuffin from Wollaston, who graciously sent Seasons 3-5 of his Sopranos DVD collection to victims of Hurricane Katrina. We had Marc Gizelli from South Quincy, who vowed not to steal from 7-Eleven for three years, in order to help the economy get back on it’s feet. We even had Shirly Ducklah from Merrymount, who tirelessly banged all of the Quincy Police Department to help raise morale after the Great One Killer struck again. And who could forget Juan 'Bleeding Gums' Fernandez? Here is a man whose tireless work in the field of unasked-for-abortions prevented any more Milton kids from appearing on the horizon. A man whose dedication to not helping fat woman sent a strong message of pride to us all. A man who was so confident in his abilities as a sexy gynecologist, he didn’t even bother going to medical school.”


Dr. Juan "Bleeding Gums" Fernandez, getting ready to go in for a nice deep one.

Continuing to speak to the audience with his fly was down, his shoes untied, his socks mismatched, and what appeared to be over thirty-two fluid ounces of A1 Steak Sauce® stains on his outfit, Shlopp continued. "We knew this year had to be special. And when we heard about Leo-Hector, we knew we found our man. Or cat. Whatever.”

At this point, the lights dimmed and a Blu-ray presentation of Leo-Hector’s time in Quincy was shown to the crowd. Ominous music played and a voice that can only be described as a perfect mix of Robert Stack and Charlie Chaplin began recounting Leo-Hector’s story.

“Last Friday night, a Quincy kid was in dire need," the narrator spoke. "He was booted out of JJ Foley’s in downtown Boston, and only had $10 to his name. It was 3:00AM, and there was no way for him to get back to his beloved Quincy home. Then, a miracle happened. A cab pulled up and opened it’s doors. The kid entered. What he saw amazed him. There was Leo-Hector. A cat. With a perfectly crisp $10 bill under his paw. The two split the cab back to Quincy, both artfully pretending to pass out when the driver asked for a tip, and a friendship was born.

“Now, if you think that’s all Leo-Hector has done for this city, then you are mistaken! Reports soon rushed into the mayor’s office of Leo-Hector helping people in every corner of Quincy. If someone needed to bum a cigarette at the North Quincy train station, there was Leo-Hector with a fresh, crisp pack of Marb’s under his paw. Need to buy just one more 8-ball at six o'clock in the morning, but no one’s around? There was Leo-Hector with a fresh, crisp baggie under his paw. How about the single mother that was denied a six-pack of Icehouse beer at the Regal Beagle, just because she was $5 short and was only 17? Yep, Leo-Hector, with a fresh, crisp fake ID under one paw, and a fucking monster sack of Susan B. Anthony coins under the other.”

At this point, members of the crowd began to rise. A steady stream of “yah, dood!” and applause rained down upon Leo-Hector. Remaining completely indifferent to the thunderous praise, Leo-Hector stretched out, clawed the shit out of the chair next to him, and then went back to sleep.

“Man, that cat is about as cool as a cucumber,” Mayor Koch was later heard to remark, as he viciously sank his teeth into a smooth blend of meats and cheeses.