The Sudbury Taxi Dilemma: A Game of Boneheads

The cabbie rests his head on the wheel in silent regret
Wondering how much worse things could possibly get
He dreams of the old days when the drivers ruled the night
When a trip in his taxi was a privilege not a right
With a sinister chuckle he'd cruise past the bar
Laughing at the peasants frantically waving down his car
At 2am the rabble would flock to the payphone
Foolishly believing they'd get a taxicab home
But a night out in Sudbury means common sense is denied
The dispatchers sleep through the bar rush and the drivers all hide
Larch street is deserted, it's cold and windy as hell
 Not a taxi parked anywhere, not even Fidel
 The phones at the cab stands are jumping, no one picks up the horn
The dispatcher is busy in the bathroom with his german poop-fetish porn.
 The taxi kings coast to the train tracks and kill their engines and lights
They've got a good view of the nightclub and place wagers on inevitable taxicab fights.
They watch as a brave but foolish rookie driver actually tries to do his job
 Then they bust a gut laughing when he's attacked by the mob.
One King says "Poor guy's face looks like hamburger meat! I'd give him a ride to the hospital
but he'd get his blood on my seat"
After several people give up on taxis and forced to drive home half-drunk
And an innocent busker is attacked by a skateboarding punk
The crowd thins out and only a few cute girls remain
The taxi kings suddenly remember what their jobs are again
With smirks on their faces and two hours left of their shift
They roll up to the curb "Hey you girls need a lift?"

The townfathers learn of the taxi snafu
"This cannot continue, someone might sue!"
They send word to the taxi kings
"Emergency meeting at olde city hall!"
Some kings elect to show up, but most ignore the call
"We need better service for the bars at closing time"
The taxi kings all yawn as their mental rate meters go up by a dime.
"Please, your majesties, we humbly beg your advice.
We need solutions. Suggestions. A plan to set things to rights!

A bearded taxi king rose, the smell of beer filled the air
 He knew he reeked of alcohol but he was Irish and didn't care
"I don't think you understand how this thing of ours works
 "WE make the rules, not you simpletons and jerks."
We will be there when we get there and not one second before
If these ingrates keep complaining we'll all take the scenic tour
We rule these streets and the sheep need a harsh lesson:
If we decide to show up at all, we grace the drunken serfs with our mere presence
 These mindless lemmings whine like infants after leaving the bar
 "Ooh it's too cold, I'd walk home but I'm too drunk and it's too far."
"Yet they go home and order junkfood that takes an hour to appear
 So why does a few hours for a taxi fill their eyes with such tears?"
These sycophants and lickspittles have always waited, and they'll wait some more
The Taxi Kings balked as they went for the door
"There is no real problem and this whole thing's a bore!"
The taxi kings strolled out of city hall dreaming of big fares
They all agreed this meeting was pointless, the downtown was rightfully theirs!
 But the taxi kings had forgotten that they made their own crowns
They ruled over no one, they serviced cities and towns.
The townfathers decreed these pretenders be humbled
New taxis appeared downtown while the former kings cursed and grumbled
The new drivers wore clean uniforms, they were eager workers and pleasant,
they treated the people like paying customers instead of plebes and mere peasants
Alas, these new drivers grasped a concept the old regime had missed
Their job is to pick up the customer even if they're stoned, drunk or pissed