With the arrival (at last) of a light frosting of snow (that quickly turned into a Slushee), New York indulged its sweet tooth. Albany’s Three Musketeers — Silver, Bruno, and Spitzer — engaged in a taffy pull over control of the State Legislature, with Bruno accusing the governor of thinking he was Willy Wonka, and treating the legislators like Oompa-Loompas. Silver and his new political sugar-pie, Comptroller Thomas DiNapoli, received a threatening Candygram containing a suspicious non-confectioner’s powder. The Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama presidential campaigns traded Zingers over which candidate wants to get us out of Iraq S’more.
A Cracker-Jack Park Slope police officer hid her ex-con husband after he allegedly decorated an off-duty cop with lead sprinkles. (“Nothing was done intentional,” was her saccharine apology.) Mayor Bloomberg asked citizens to limit their Krispy Kreme intake, and tried sweet-talking Condi Rice into helping to keep the United Nations in Manhattan. (Hizzoner also admitted to popping a yummy baby-aspirin every day.) Blackstone Sugar Daddy Stephen Schwarzman spent over $3 million to celebrate 60 years of PayDays, inspiring Snickers. The NYPD threatened to shutter any club in which a customer got iced — or just assaulted. In Harlem, firefighters safely lowered two infants onto the ground from an Easy Bake apartment building, while two NYU undergrads caramelized their dorm room during an attempt to flambé some receipts. (“I guess it’s not the smartest thing,” admitted one of the not-too-Smarties.)
Sta-Puf dictator Kim Jong Il agreed not to unleash any more Atomic Fireballs. Chocolate, not Junior’s Cheesecake, was declared the city’s No. 1 specialty–food export. Pudding pasha Bill Cosby shared a blue ribbon at the Westminster Dog Show. (Fellow two-legged attendees included Hostess cupcake Martha Stewart and seventies Zagnut Patty Hearst.) And Britney Spears tossed her cookies after a night clubbing, another sign the Pop-Tart has passed her expiration date. —Mark Adams