There are a whopping 10 murals in Estacada's tiny downtown area, making the process of awarding the coveted prize of "Best Mural" exceedingly difficult. What follows is an excerpt from the Official Best Estacadan Mural Summit, presided over by the Mercury's Justin W. Sanders and Erik Henriksen.

JUSTIN W. SANDERS: I hereby award this prestigious honor upon Jenny Joyce's "The Ginseng Story," on the side of Wong's King Chinese Restaurant. It depicts a proud farming couple standing by their splendid field of ginseng, a Chinese medicinal herb which few people know grows quite well in Estacada's mild climate. Indeed, a truly gorgeous illustration of a vital element in the local economy!

ERIK HENRIKSEN: Mr. Sanders, you're a blind ignoramus. "The Ginseng Story"? It's about a crappy-ass weed, my dear sir! Let's look at a real topic for a mural: A bunch of deformed people and Bigfoot. In "All the World is a Stage," located on the side of the Hi-School Pharmacy, Estacadans who have participated in the arts are immortalized in glorious splendor, and the mural's lack of artistic technique belies its powerful sense of history, art, and the town's apparent history of housing feral half-men. Huzzah to "All the World is a Stage"!

JWS: Mm, yes, I see. I see, Mr. Henriksen—I see that you are a blustering idiot! The only "ass-weed" in Estacada is the trail of filth you left in the bathroom in back of the comic book store. You, my feeble-minded coworker, are obsessed with pot-smoking ingrates—most likely because you consider them your brethren. Perhaps if you weren't so busy "toking the herb," you would see that ginseng is an "herb" TRULY worth "celebrating," a feat which Ms. Joyce's MASTERPIECE achieves with effortless grace. I'm ashamed to call myself your peer.

EH: I'll have you know that "the trail of filth" I left was in the bushes outside of the Post Office, thanks. Second, I want to jab an ice pick through your ungodly abomination of a face so as to end your incessant, insipid blabbering. I will fucking end you, Sanders, and then I shall kick your corpse with steel-toed boots until each bone snaps.

JWS: I WILL RIP YOUR TONGUE FROM YOUR FACE AND GOUGE OUT YOUR MISERABLE EYES WITH IT! THEN I'll NAIL YOU TO THE GROUND WITH TRAIN SPIKES AND LAUGH AS YOU STRUGGLE TO RISE AND... Wait one moment... Look here... On second thought, I'm of the opinion that Karyn Drum-Pivirotto's scenic "A Day on the Clackamas," on the wall at Les Schwab Tires, is the town's best! I admire its deceptively simple charms and fluid brushwork. Perhaps we can find a truce on this fabulous work and I won't have to mangle your admittedly striking countenance. What thinks you, old friend?

EH: I think you're brilliant! A truce indeed! Fancy a drink?

JWS: Always. Let us purchase a pack of MGD and lean against the winning Les Schwab wall, where we shall throw rocks at children.