Archive
Movement to Remember the Bumpkins? Schropp Ruins Local Man
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
A small movement is picking up steam in Lankville to remember the bumpkins taken off by the wind three weeks ago, sources are confirming.
“I think a small statue or an obelisk would be appropriate,” noted movement leader Lloyd Byas-Kirk. “Even a nicely-engraved plaque which could be affixed to a large stone at the site of their abduction.”
Authorities have not responded to phone calls.
SCHROPP RUINS LOCAL MAN?
As I reported last week, Kirby Lomax, owner of the Huntington Road Deli, decided to grab a piece of the fresh frozen breakfast sandwich craze and started carrying them in his deli. As I had to meet with the family lawyer (over a certain trash incident that I’m not allowed to write about) I had been unable to get over to the deli to see how Kirby was doing.
So early this morning I took a walk down and planned on standing in the long line of eager morning commuters to try one. But to my shock I found Kirby sitting outside the deli on the curb. He was crying while two men in spiffy business suits were locking the door.
I sat down beside him on the curb “Say, Kirby, what’s going on?”
He looked over at me with tears streaming out of his eyes. “I went bankrupt Bri. It happened so fast, those men are from the bank.”
I was so stunned that I was not sure what to say. After sobbing a bit more he continued.
“Fresh frozen! What was I thinking!! Why didn’t I just serve them fresh to the customers in the morning?! People don’t have time to reheat sandwiches on their way to work. And all that expense I had to invest in fresh ingredients. It added up so quickly– that was the straw that broke the camel’s back!! I even looked up Fresh Frozen on the computer, I couldn’t find anything about it being a trend!! Now I’m out of business. Guess it’s back to the children’s linoleum trade for me”

Ruined man Kirby Lomax. Shortly after his meeting with Schropp, Lomax fell down some steps while carrying a box of shiny tinsel. No explanation has yet been offered.
He put his head down and cried like a little baby. I knew now wasn’t the time to tell him that some food trends are so hot, you won’t find them written about anywhere. I gave Kirby a hug. I felt bad for him, he was a good man (unlike a certain person I know who this paper wants to defend. I’m sorry, Hank Cameron is a JERK). But as I was walking back home I couldn’t help but wonder– what if I was able to make it down sooner- could I have helped?
Maybe it wasn’t the fresh frozen process but the breakfast sandwich itself. Maybe the “B-E-C-TB (bacon, egg, cheese, tender biscuit) equation was not correct. Something that seems simple but is one of the hardest things for a culinary expert to achieve.
Well, I wish Mr. Lomax the best in his future endeavors. Until next time keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas.
Happy Eating,
BRI
Ric Royer’s Recipe for Olives a la Augustine
Ric Royer is well-known for his gastronomic creations.
We’re going to take some Deep Island olives and fill them by means of a swollen bursting bag and pipe filled with pate de fois gras that has been passed crisply through a bent sieve. Then, take some little bouche cups and fill the sons a’ bitches about a quarter inch deep. Now, stand an olive in each as if you’re violently piercing the earth with a roadside sign that says to the world, “You want to kiss God, you get through my motherfuckin’ ass first.”
You want to kiss God, you get through my motherfuckin’ ass first.
Next, cement the olive in there with aspic jelly or with caviar aux crevettes if the jelly isn’t available. Now, fill up the moulds with all this bullshit and round the olives out with little gentle sprigs of chervil. When it all sets, you’ll dump the olives out of the moulds onto a little crouton of hard bread of panini, butter and mask it all with ham, tongue, coral, hand, a tuck-away sauced sheet or eschalot (your choice) and serve it all up on some goddamned dish-paper, one to each unrepentant asshole at table.
Items Found in Bumpkin Trailer; Schropp on Cuisine
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
A few items were found inside the trailer belonging to the bumpkins that were carried off by the wind a few weeks back.
“There were some ordinary items, yes,” noted Detective Gee-Temple of the Lankville Bureau of Probes. “Nothing particularly interesting, Lloyd. I mean, you want to make a story out of their hand towels or what they had in the fridge?”
We nodded excitedly and were promised full access to the inventory as early as Friday.
SCHROPP ON CUISINE
My folks spoke of a place over the years, a seemingly magical place from their youth. It was called “The Fry Hut” and according to Mom and Dad, it was a teenager’s hangout dream. The owner (Hal Slappy, Jr.) would fry anything- ANYTHING- the kids brought him in one of his forty-two luxurious deep friers. They would bring hamburgers, hotdogs, fish tacos (yes, Lankville was the creator of the fish taco) and then feast in deep-fried goodness while making out in their cars.
Was this place still around? Mom and Dad weren’t too sure. “It may have been closed some years back because of health code violations,” Dad said. “There was a lot of underaged drinking too,” Mom added. “Now Brian, let’s get these pumpkins inside for our Thanksgiving display.” But I was no longer interested in pumpkins. My mind was far away. It was on The Fry Hut. I had to find it. I had to find out if the magic was still there.
The place was clear across Lankville. “Up in the hills” some might say. Out of my comfort zone of the suburbs. I would need to walk (my parent-accompanied provisional permit had recently expired). But for the sake of the article, off I went.
By the time I cleared downtown and the other side of the city I was met with the rolling hills and mountains of Deep Lankville. The roads became narrow and some parts unpaved; local yokels drove by– blasting their rock anthems from their trucks and tossing beer cans and shoes at me. The occasional shout of ‘”Get out of the way breakfast sandwich boy” were heard. The vague directions I got from my folks didn’t help matters much but with the help of a few good locals (a special shout out to “Trucker Joe” for the lift) I soon found my destination.
The Fry Hut was nestled in a wooded clearing off a dirt road– it had seen better years. My heart sank a little thinking it was closed for good but the front door banged open and out stepped a woman in a bathrobe, curlers, and wielding a shotgun. I quickly explained who I was and what I was doing on her property. She said her name was Gretchen Slappy, Hal’s wife, and she would get him. Soon Ol’ Hal himself came from out behind the Fry Hut, wielding a shotgun. “What are you doin’ here boy?” he asked. Again I explained the situation. “Are you from around here?” I said I lived in Lankville. “No boy, from around here!! In these parts!!!” No, I had to say I was from clear across Lankville. He shook his head and said that the Fry Hut was only open to locals now. After a begging and pleading session emphasizing how far I traveled, Hal said I could come in if I got on my hands and knees and really, really begged. So I swallowed my pride and did so. He produced a video camera from somewhere and recorded the entire display for reasons unclear.
Finally, I was permitted entry. The interior was in no better shape than the outside. The counter tops and “sitting booths” (as Hal called them) showed their age and were littered with trash. The windows were covered with a thick layer of dust which made even the sunlight coming through seem dirty. Hal set me up at the counter with a crumpled place mat and a spoon from a rusted sink. He went on about the history of the place for awhile and then about different frying options he provided. But I had a glorious idea which I hoped he was open to. “Say Hal, do you have an egg?” “Yeah” “How about some bacon?” “Yup” “Then if you had a little cheese and a soft tender biscuit maybe you could fry that for me?” I could tell by the coldness in his eyes that I had crossed some sort of line. “Get out boy, get out now, don’t you or your kind ever come back here.”
With that I quickly left and made an even quicker pace when I heard the click of the shotgun as I went through the door. It took me a long while to get home since I made sure to stay off the back roads in case Hal was going to follow me. (Again a special thanks to “Trucker Joe” who found me on Interstate 27 and gave me a partial lift home).
So with disappointment in my heart I end my first review. Disappointment that is merely escalated by the fact that, once again, my work has been forced to follow A SPURIOUS, POINTLESS ARTICLE ABOUT THE GOD DAMN BUMPKINS. The bumpkins had stuff in their trailer? IS THIS NEWS??? Furthermore, it seems quite obvious that my next article will follow THE BUMPKINS AGAIN when Lloyd finds out exactly what they had in their fridge. SERIOUSLY, LANKVILLE DAILY NEWS??!! Calming…calming…I’m alright now.
I hope next time I will actually be able to write about some food. Until then, please keep your mind and mouth open to new things.
Happy eating!
BRI
Today in Breakfast Sandwiches by Brian Schropp
The Lankville Daily News is pleased to present a new feature by noted aficionado Brian Schropp.
A lot of people come up to me on a daily basis. They say, “Brian, when are you ever going to share your voluminous knowledge of breakfast sandwiches with the world? For a great span, I felt strongly that the moment was not upon us. We were still passing through a strange cycle of fear, of suspicion of the breakfast sandwich. Lankville had not fully embraced the phenomenon. No knowledge could yet be imparted.
In the last few years, however, I have noticed a change. I have heard the rich man say, “I had a breakfast sandwich this morning.” I have heard the erudite man say, “I had a breakfast sandwich this morning.” And I have even heard the frightening, mountain dirt cave hillbilly say, “I had a breakfast sandwich this morning.” I have been moved by this sense of justice and federation. And so I have agreed to undertake this new feature. I am proud to present to you, Lankville, Today in Breakfast Sandwiches.
Today, we’ll be looking at two of Lankville’s more notable creations.
PAPPY’S CHICKEN AND BISCUITS
Pappy’s Chicken and Biscuits is one of Lankville’s more notable purveyor of “hastily-concocted viands”. In 1997, they introduced their first breakfast sandwich, a biscuit with a slice of thick ham topped with ranch sauce which was an enormous failure. “Customers were pretty vocal in regards to its poor taste and texture,” noted former Pappy’s CEO Ivan Calderon. “The ham was sliced in a sort of layered way, making it look like a tiny step-stool. It was hard to eat,” admitted Calderon, who spearheaded an initiative to include egg and sausage on Pappy’s second venture into the field of breakfast hoagies.
Pappy’s turned to H.X. Approval, who had designed successful breakfast sandwiches for several island chains in the 1990’s. “I knew right away what I wanted to do with Pappy’s,” said Approval. “Breakfast sandwiches are man’s great equalizer. They bring people of all races and some colors together. If you’ve experienced great creeping horrors, the breakfast sandwich is a healer,” Approval added.
In 2001, Pappy’s introduced the “Copious Bulker”– an instant hit in all Lankville markets. “It’s two eggs with two types of sausages shoved in between,” Approval explained. “You’ve got links on either side of a patty. The links cradle the paddle in there, keeping it safe the warm and, at the same time, kind of caressing it erotically.” Approval briefly excused himself but shortly returned. “On top of the sausages, you have a round, perfectly compressed slice of ham. We were able to concisely summarize taste in that thin slice. That’s really the only way to describe it.”
Lankville agrees. The Copious Bulker has sold over five hundred billion sandwiches since 2001.
THE VITIELLO DECORATIVE BREAKFAST SANDWICH
Vitiello Decorative Hams, Inc. introduced their decorative breakfast sandwich in 2004. Although initially met with skepticism, it has since garnered a loyal following. “What makes my sandwich work is that it is both edible and decorative,” noted founder and CEO Chris Vitiello. “The edible component slides out easily and may be consumed by the rapacious sort of philistine that feels the need to shove a breakfast sandwich down his greed-lined gullet and then the decorative component, which is the true aesthetic component– the true work of art– will hopefully be appreciated by the same sort of vulgarian that would feel the need to purchase such a heinous object in the first place.” Vitiello removed a whip from a desk drawer and placed it between us.
I carefully admitted that this was one of my main objections to the Vitiello Decorative Breakfast Sandwich. “It is nearly ten times the cost of the Pappy’s sandwich,” I pointed out. There was a long silence.
“Is that so, Mr. Schropp?” Vitiello finally answered.
“Yes,” I conceded.
Vitiello ran his finger slowly along the whip.
“You know where this is going to end, don’t you, Schropp?” he finally asked.
I very slowly got out of my chair and backed away towards the door. Vitiello’s steely eyes followed me. I crept down the ill-lit hallway. The elevator was out, so I had to take a service lift. I felt that, somehow, I could hear the crack of a whip somewhere. I made it to the street.
When I looked back up towards Vitiello’s office, I saw him standing in the window, holding the whip. He was pointing at me, then pointing at the whip. His eyes were like great shards of menace.
Next week, we’ll be taking a look at two more Lankville breakfast sandwiches. Until then!



















































LETTER SACK