THE STRIKE IS OVER

"It's over," said a relieved Scott Steinbeck, The McHale Report's managing editor.

"The past is the past," echoed Estanislao Contreras, the author of Chicano Fuck Songs who led the wildcat strike against the blog.

Meeting in the patio of Trey Mendez's Dodici Pizza & Wine, the two sides hammered out a three-year contract, but it wasn't until management and staff had reached a deadlock and decided to call upon City Commissioner "Judge" Ben Neece to mediate a settlement.

"Ben brought an objectivity that was sorely lacking," said Steinbeck. "It had become a pissing contest and Ben was able to convince us to put our cocks back in our pants, enjoy a little pizza, sip a good wine and then let's talk. The approach broke the ice."

"Ben was marvelous," offered Contreras. "Once our tempers calmed, he returned us to our rational selves. He brought reason to the table. Once he was able to prove that there were more pros than cons to a resolution of our differences, we were able to strike an accord. He did compliment us that we were much easier to deal with than with his fellow Commissioner Jessica Tetreau-Kalifa. He asserted that it is always smoother to work with intelligent rather than ignorant people."

"I know all these guys and they're great folks who make an important contribution to the community with their journalism," stated Neece. "With Dr. G.F. McHale-Scully, Scott Steinbeck, Estanislao Contreras, Jack O'Connell, Max Maxwell, Annie Gunn and the rest of the crew, we have partied until the wee hours of the morning. I knew it was only a question of getting alcohol into their systems and I could resolve the temporary crisis. I have found from my own experience hanging with this bunch that they are much more compromising when they are drunk rather than when they are sober."

The revelers finished the night with stops at The Library and El Hueso de Fraile. With "Delta" Dave Handelman holding down the fort on stage, the reunited management and staff toasted shots of tequilas deep into the night.

"Here's to Ben who saved our asses!" shouted Steinbeck.

"To Ben!" thundered the ebullient drunks.

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