Brief Transmission Established with Pumpkin Tits GM “Nick”
By Dick Oakes, Jr.
Special “Space Canard” Correspondent
File photo
Extremely brief radio transmission was established late last night with “lost” Pumpkin Tits (formerly 17s) GM “Nick”. It is purported that “Nick” is still stranded somewhere in “outer space”. Dick Oakes spoke briefly with the oft-maligned executive.
DO: What’s the scoop, dick?
N: It’s been a harrowing four months. I…I think Karl Saffran is dead.
DO: You know your club is now called “The Pumpkin Tits”?
N: I…I can’t…I’m just trying to find food, shelter…it’s…I’m trying to get back to earth.
DO: All the players are locked out. You ain’t missing much, you crazy fuckhead.
N(begins sobbing): Please, you must help me. I will give you my coordinates…
DO: What do you think about all the new expansion clubs?
N: I…I have no idea…
DO: What do you know? Why the hell did I stay up this late?
Transmission suddenly broke off.
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CURIOUS LETTERS
Gentlemen,
My name is Fletcher M. Gregory, Jr. and I am 85 years old. I have long been an admirer of your Fluffy Marshes-Mallows; indeed, my man-servant Mr. Swift and I enjoy it atop our sundaes three or four days per week! However, as time has passed, I have noticed that your product becomes more and more difficult to locate in the grocery center and that other, obviously inferior products are now being allotted primer space. Now, this could be the work of the disgraceful he-she that manages my local grocery center (IT'S name is "Steve") but I have had other associates who have expressed similar concerns.
Therefore, I was hoping you could provide me with information on how you intend to rectify this matter as I am fearful that your fine product will eventually disappear forever from the shelves of my local grocery center-cum Sodom.
Yours faithfully,
Fletcher M. Gregory, Lankville
LETTER SACK