David Straz turns out to be “Shadow Owner” of Tampa News Force

Tampa News Force Headquarters – Uptown Tampa – Tuesday, 4.23.2019

“That’s right Tampa, my name is David Straz, you know, from the Straz building, and I’m here to officially announce that I’ve been pulling the strings over at Tampa News Force for year(s) now!”

I was totally blown away by the fact that I never looked at the bottom of my TNF check and noticed it was coming from the “Straz Manipulation Slush Fund.”

Then I realized that I was meeting Straz for the first time.

“That’s amazing news Mr. Straz,” I said. “But what does that mean? For me? For the future?”

“Nothing!” He shouted.“Little did you know you fools have been helping fake news thrive whilst trying to be hysterical and historical (as that man at the Gwen Graham rally once said), instead you’ve just been helping push my agenda of people still being stupid enough for me to manipulate! You’re stupid! Both of you!” He pointed to Josh Santos, but he was not there. 

“It’s just me Mr. Straz,” I said. “So are you saying we can just keep doing what we’re doing and you’ll pay the bills?”

He took a beat. “No!”

“Yes.” He said after a brief moment. “That is what I’m saying.” He sat down in a nice whicker chair.

“You boys remind me of me when I was young.”

I motioned to the emptiness next to me to remind him once again I was alone.

“I was just like you boys. Ambitious! Bitchin!” It was clear he was drunk now. It was 5:50am, and we were sitting at a table at Dunkin’.

He took a big long slurp of his large coffee.

“Gross,” I said. “It sounds nasty when you do that.”

“Do what!” He said, oblivious to his behavior, or for the reason why he’s called this meeting with me.

“I just wanted to meet you boys,” He said, while tears rolled from his eyes.

“I never cry like this,” He said. “Usually I make people cry!” He slammed his fist on the table and knocked over the salt shaker.

“Alright Mr. Straz,” I said. “So can I leave now, it’s really early, I want to go back to sleep for like 5 hours at least.”

He scanned me up and down at the table.

“Fine!” He shouted. “I just wanted you to know that I own you, and that I could buy and sell you ten times over if I wanted to!… Twenty times even!” He shook his fist in a get-off-my-lawn way.

I nodded my head towards him, threw a five on the table and told him that should cover my share of the donuts we shared, half-sprinkled, per his request.

“Wait.” he said calmly.

“What?” I said.

“That Anti-News Co., GoFundMe to raise money to shut down TNF… that was also me. I own my own shadow companies against my own shadow companies, just incase anything ever goes bad I can control things on both ends. Also, I employ hitmen. I have mafia ties. I can have you killed if you want. And if you write about any of this I probably will!”

(The totally fictional David Straz, which in no way, shape, or form, is to be confused with the mayoral candidate David Straz. This is a different one. For legal reasons I would like to make it very clear that not only is that not the same David Straz, but again, this is a satirical website, and this might as well be gibberish because none of this is real, but the Matrix is so unplug brothers! Unplug from the Matrix!)

“Yes, that’s right. It’s been me the whole time!” Said David Straz in a clearly satirical, unreal, totally hypothetically, uprosecutable way.