The results are in for this week's Monkey Movie poll, Which of these Katie nominees for best actor of 1930-31 would make the biggest splash if he were in his prime today? Arguments could be made for each of the contenders, James Cagney, Charles Chaplin and Edward G. Robinson, but for the twenty participants who voted, the issue was never in doubt.
"Made it, Ma! Top of the world!" crowed the exuberant Cagney at an afternoon press conference. "My mother thanks you, my father thanks you, my sister thanks you and I thank you!"
The margin of Cagney's win was as startling as it was decisive: 20 votes for Cagney, zero for Chaplin, zero for Robinson. That's right, 20-to-nothing. Those are the sort of numbers you'd expect to see in a petty dictator's plebiscite.
Allegations of voter intimidation and poll fraud were promptly dismissed with a couple of slaps across the kisser.
"Asking questions again, huh?" snarled Cagney. "Listen, someday you're gonna stick your nose in, you're gonna get something in it. You been reading a lot of stuff about 'Crime don't pay,'" he added. "Don't be a sucker! That's for yaps and small-timers on shoestrings. Not for people like us. Never steal anything small, I say!"
Cagney was exhumed from his final resting place as soon as the poll closed, breathing his first air above ground in more than twenty years.
"Those dirty rats!" he said without hesitation when asked what he disliked most about being dead. "I mean, sure, there's bugs, decomposition, the worm that doth corrupt—and just try getting a table at La Botte! But those dirty rats are the worst."
While sometimes hard to handle, Cagney admitted death had its moments. "They paid tribute to a bad man," he said, "by electing me the mayor of hell, winner take all. Everyone in that torrid zone knew me as Jimmy the Gent," he said, "even the seven little Foys, and though each dawn I died, it was something of a sinner's holiday, the time of my life."
Married forty-four years in life, Cagney was a lady killer in death, making time for other men's women, and even becoming involved with a strawberry blonde. "I was her man," he said, "just boy meets girl, and it was something to sing about until I found out the bride came C.O.D. I told her, 'Love me or leave me.' So she left.
"After that, I went a little blonde crazy—now she was a midsummer night's dream!"
When not chasing women, Cagney made powerful friends in the afterlife. "My advice?" he said. "At the doorway to hell, shake hands with the devil. Otherwise, run for cover!"
Attempts to work Yankee Doodle Dandy and Arizona Bushwhackers into his victory speech proved unsuitable for a family-friendly blog and were dropped.
After the poll results were announced, a subdued Edward G. Robinson said, "Mother of mercy! Is this the end of Rico?" then spent another ten minutes trying to explain who "Rico" was. Charlie Chaplin just twitched his moustache, doffed his hat and walked off into the sunset.
Legendary director Martin Scorsese immediately signed Cagney to a three-picture deal worth in excess of $60 million, by far the biggest payday of Cagney's career. "In terms of talent," Scorsese said, "Jimmy buries the competition."
"I'm ripe for a comeback!" said a beaming, if somewhat dazed and gamey Cagney. "I smell—Oscar, that is!"
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