For the past few weeks, The Augusta Chronicle’s City Ink columnist Sylvia Cooper has had mock interviews with former state Sen. Charles Walker who has just recently completed his 10-year federal prison sentence.
In her column, Cooper has posed questions to the senator and, because he isn’t willing to play ball yet with the media, she has decided to answer the questions herself.
One week was understandable, but by the second column last week that repeated the same format, it made the Insider wonder: What would the senator like to ask Sylvia Cooper if he had the chance?
This is how the Insider thinks that interview might go down:
Walker: So, when I was prison, someone told me that you were retiring. What happened with that?
Cooper: Well, let’s just say, reading the horoscopes for my hounds was the highlight of my day. And when the horoscopes kept saying, “Your pets need space. They prefer you to be behind the scenes,” I started to get the hint. Especially when I realized my husband, Ernie, was really writing them.
Walker: You have been nagging me for an interview, but your employer, The Augusta Chronicle, has gone out of its way to paint me as the most crooked politician to ever serve the Augusta area. You realize, no matter how much you shovel on that southern charm, I know you are out to try to make me look like a fool, right?
Cooper: That makes about as much sense as tits on a bull. Senator, you could fall into a barrel of pig poo and come out smelling like roses.
Walker: What!?! Woman speak English!
Walker: Your boss was out to get me for decades. You do realize I filed a libel suit against your employer, The Augusta Chronicle, in the 1980s for running a caricature of me holding the “proverbial cookie jar.” That cartoon ran back in 1981 and I’ve hated that paper ever since. Do you get that?
Cooper: Come on, Charles. You and I both know that Billy Morris is slicker than pig snot on a radiator.
Walker: May I please request an interpreter? Someone who speaks southern bull****. Hell, I’m a sharecropper’s son from Burke County and I don’t know what this woman is saying.
Walker: Your employer viciously attacked my son, Champ Walker, when he ran for Congress. And when my daughter, Monique Walker Hill, also stood trial on conspiracy charges, the newspaper wanted her legal career destroyed. That’s my family. And now you want to chat?
Cooper: Oh, honey. We all know that Champ ain’t got the good sense God gave a goose. And as for Monique, she’s a bright girl, but she got in bed with her daddy and even in the South nowadays, that’s just plain wrong.
Walker: What the ….?!?!?
Cooper: I meant, your political bed, sugar. Don’t get madder than a wet hen. What you were involved in stunk so bad it could knock a buzzard off a gut wagon.
Walker: Do you realize I’ve been in prison for almost 10 years and this is the worst conversation I’ve had in more than a decade?
Cooper: Quit goin’ around your a** to get to your elbow. Say what you mean.
Walker: The Chronicle wanted to jump all over me when I was convicted, but, to this day, praises all of the vast improvements made to Georgia Regents University. Do you realize who was responsible for the vast majority of those improvements over the past 20 years?
Cooper: You know as well as I do, the Chronicle’s editorial staff could start an argument in an empty house. But the problem through the years was that your nose was so high in the air you could drown in a rainstorm. It rubbed people the wrong way.
Walker: You say, I rubbed people the wrong way. Did it bother people that I was the highest-ranking African American in the Georgia Legislature? Did it bother your paper that many thought I would be the first African-American governor in the state? Do you recognize that African-American politicians are far more likely than their white counterparts to be targeted by investigators, prosecutors and the media? Do you understand that I was subjected to greater scrutiny because I was a pioneer at the state level? Do you get that?
Cooper: If I tell you a duck can pull a truck, then shut up and hook the sucker up.
Walker: Good Lord, woman. Nice talking with you, Sylvia. Life is too short. Best wishes to you, Ernie and your hounds.