Pawtucket, Rhode Island – In a stunning display of misplaced priorities, the small city of Pawtucket has erupted into a full-blown Pity Party after a series of accusations spiraled out of control, overshadowing any semblance of accountability. Residents have traded their usual morning coffee for a cocktail of outrage and self-pity, leading to an unanticipated wave of “woe-is-us” enthusiasm across town. It all started last week when Mayor Betty Bluster shuffled her way through a city council meeting sporting what can only be described as the newest fashion from "Desperation Street." Amid calls for an explanation regarding the mysterious disappearance of budget funds, she not-so-subtly mentioned that “everyone is just mean,” triggering an emotional avalanche as residents rallied to her defense. “Sure, we have potholes big enough to swallow a small car, and our schools are still using textbooks from the ’90s,” lamented local resident Chuck Dithers, who just last month lost his job at the local mill. “But have you seen how the Mayor’s getting treated? This is truly heartbreaking. Look at her! This is not just about the town’s budget; it’s an attack on her very character!” The local populace has taken to the streets, waving signs like “We Love Our Victims!” and “Pity is the New Progress!” while hosting emotionally-charged bake sales to fund the local “Pawtucket Defends Our Sadness Coalition.” At these fundraisers, cookies frosted in the shape of sad faces have become an instant crowd favorite, bringing together a community long overshadowed by fiscal irresponsibility. In the midst of the chaos, Pawtucket’s media outlet, The Pawtucket Prowler, has found itself inundated with messages from residents who feel the need to express their grief over perceived injustices—all while conveniently ignoring nagging issues such as housing, crime, and failing infrastructure. “I stood in line at the grocery store the other day, and someone pointed out our crumbling sidewalks,” recounted local journalist Sally Hooch. “I mean, how dare they? Can’t they see the Mayor’s going through a tough time?” Ironically, the accusations against the Mayor have resulted in a rise of what some local experts are now dubbing “emotional tourism.” House prices are soaring as tearful citizens flock to homes with “affectionate disaster” signs posted on the front lawn. “People have lost the ability to empathize with others’ struggles because they’re too busy wallowing in their own sadness over the Mayor’s fragile feelings,” behavioral economist Dr. Sunny Deck stated in a recent symposium about the paradox of pity in politics. Even as the Mayor refuses to account for the disappearing funds—eventually blaming it on a “ghost in the budget” and denying all responsibility—citizens have taken to social media to assert her innocence, often filling comment sections with desperate pleas like, “Let her feel what she feels!” or “Stop the hate, Pawtucket is a soft place!” The hashtag #SaveOurSadness has begun trending, inspiring a wave of sympathy memes featuring the Mayor’s most unflattering selfies. As Pawtucket spins deeper into its Pity Party, even the local cat rescue, Pawtucket Paws, has joined the fray, launching a campaign called “Cats Against Accountability.” Funded entirely by donations from crying residents, the initiative aims to rescue kittens and create an emotional support network for citizens unable to confront the glaring issues facing their city. As the Pity Party continues, social justice has seemingly taken a backseat to the more pressing issue of collective sobbing. Pawtucket’s city hall has become a veritable palace of tears, proving, in sobering clarity, that when it comes to accountability vs. accusations, it’s always easier to wallow in sorrow than to face the hard truth.