Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.
Dick Oakes, Jr.
It was one of those towels by the pound joints. Some fuck of a town beyond the Outlands.
I was in the back room, in a cramped office. I had to fill out a bunch of strange forms, all yellow and in duplicate. I couldn’t figure on any of it.
The owner was odd-looking. She had big bunches of hair wrapped up in a lazily-built bun. She wore no bra and she wasn’t selling it much. She chain-smoked.
“Make sure you fill out all those forms,” she kept whispering softly through the cigarette haze.
“Never seen forms like this,” I said. They were asking for all kinds of crazy shit– they wanted months and years on everything.
“Where are you from?”
“Lankville. Eastern.”
“You’re not in Lankville. You’ve crossed over.”
“Into what?”
She didn’t say anything for awhile. Then: “Didn’t you notice all the big walls? All the checkpoints? How’d you get through?”
I thought about the previous night. Nothing came. I dimly remembered the afternoon– cases of beer in a shopping cart. That was it.
She stubbed out her cigarette and lit another. 
“I need someone,” she said. “I haven’t had anyone wander in here looking for work in years. Everyone in Cotton Cones thinks they’re above this work. Ever since that government training program. They didn’t miss very many people.”
I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. I was signing my name for the hundredth time.
“They came along out of the west,” she said, looking off distantly. “They came into churches and schools and said, let’s have these boys and girls. And they took them out of the schools and they trained them for the Initiative. Capitol “I”, small n, small i, small t, small i…”
“Skip it,” I said.
“They trained them all up,” she said, dreamily. “And now nobody wants to work in some sweet fuck-all towels by the pound shop.”
There was a long silence.
“My husband was murdered,” she noted suddenly.
I didn’t have nothing to add to that.
“I’ll give these forms to the Sub-Committee,” she said. “You can come back in five days.”
I hit her up for a little advance. I was thinking about those beers in the shopping cart again. She gave me a couple bills that I didn’t recognize. They were bright pink.
“Take a towel with you. Study it,” she said.
She didn’t walk me out.
No News At All in Lankville Says President
Buck Igloos
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
Nothing newsworthy has happened in Lankville, President Pondicherry noted at a press conference held early this morning before a nebulous ceremonial flame.
“2016 has been very quiet. Not a peep from anyone,” said the President. “Very few people seem to be around.”
“I have seen an inordinate number of large bugs,” the executive added, after staring longingly at the great flame.
Detective Gee-Temple said arrests are down.
The barrels were not deemed newsworthy.
“We’ve had 268 challenges in the new year and 54 murders. At this time last year, there were 412 challenges and something like 100 murders,” Gee-Temple averred. “There were some charts around here but I think they were carried away. Things get carried away upon occasion.”
“We did have an incident a few days ago where some giant barrels were found to be accumulated behind a low, flat structure,” the detective noted hopefully. When the story was not judged to be newsworthy, Gee-Temple removed some clothes from his desk drawer and began changing. The interview was ended prematurely.
“I expect that things will pick up,” said Lankville Daily News columnist Brock Belvedere, Jr., who often covers news. “It’s just a matter of time.”
A Christmas Story by Brian Schropp
By Brian Schropp
I was lost in a mist of nacho cheese floating down a pizza sauce river to nowhere. Was I back on the raft? The hideous laughter of the Floating Pizza Baby Slice boomed around me. I curled further into my defensive ball position putting my hands over my ears. Was I having a nightmare or was this reality? I had a hard time telling the difference of late.
“Did you really think you could defeat me?” it said in its own horrific baby ga- ga voice. “I will always be here to bring about your downfall!! Take a peek through the mist Bri, you will see what I mean!”
Do I really succumb to his madness? Even if you had the will of a thousand Scott’s, sometimes in a nightmare you have no choice. Opening my eye just a fraction I saw them. Just visible through the cheese on either side of the river were row upon row of giant dancing pizza purses, moving in unison like in some twisted animation movie. The pizza purses have been the bane of my existence and anyone who works at the ‘Pizza-A-Round’s’ existence for some time now. Seeing how we were late to jump on the ball, business has been in a downward spiral especially with us only being open now on Fridays 4-9 PM, Saturdays 11-6 PM, and Sundays 2-2:30 PM. We are on the verge of bankruptcy!!
Real or imagined, the baby pizza slice still haunts me.
This, of course, has sent me into a personal spiral of self-doubt and depression since Scott had put the pressure on me to find a solution to the pizza purse matter. I had rarely failed him or the company before but since our epic struggle last month with the Floating Baby Pizza Slice I haven’t been the same man. The nightmares are getting more frequent and more intense. Things have gotten so bad that my parents have hired Dr. Nickelbee (my whacked-out therapist and failed presidential candidate under the Green Sanity Party) as my ‘live-in roommate’ in my basement apartment. Needless to say this action isn’t helping matters and that mess is whole other article.
I tried to tighten myself further into my defensive ball, trying to stop the laughter, trying to stop the visions of the dancing pizza purses, trying to stop the hurt and pain!! It was all too much– even if this was a nightmare, this twisted pizza river was carrying me to end of the line. All hope was lost. Or was it?
I felt it before anything, a little light inside telling me they were near. Then the music (always so sweet) peaking again. I was the hurricane, small at first, then becoming bigger, whirling through the nacho cheese mist. From out of this wondrous spinning ray of hope came the bumpkins. They were not in their trailer but instead on what appeared to be some badly constructed cardboard contraption which vaguely looked like a sleigh. Either small dogs or large rats were pulling them along. Some of then wore jingly bell collars.
The Floating Baby Pizza Slice ga-gaed in anger and raced up to the approaching group. It was like a cosmic game of chicken with neither side backing down from the challenge. And then, both sides collided at full force. I had seen this happen one time before and yet again there was the blinding flash which obscured my vision for a moment. When I was able to get my wits about me I was still on the raft but it had stopped floating. The purses and nacho mist were gone as well. Somehow the cardboard was now in front of me just a few feet away. It was so close I could see even see the white glittering teeth of those rat/dog things. A bumpkin got off the back of the ‘sleigh’ moving towards my huddled, quivering body. To my delight and amazement this bumpkin was the same ‘elf bumpkin’ I saw from a year ago (please see my exciting Xmas story of the previous years for details). And yes readers you need not worry, he was still dressed the same. Now by my side, he knelt down and in his light sweet voice whispered something in my ear. It was so faint I could hardly hear it—-
Every man, woman and child seems to have a pizza purse these days.
That’s when I woke up, almost hitting my head on the top part of my new bunk bed. In my sweat-drenched panic, I replayed this new dream in my mind. All the horror, seeming like it was the end, then the bumpkins—-what had the elf one said? At first I felt like it was totally lost, then again lightly and sweetly he whispered through my mind. It was the solution to this whole pizza purse problem. An idea so simple it was staring me in the face the whole damn time!!
I quickly got out of bed; I had to find Scott and fast. I knew this wasn’t going to be any easy feat, he was taking our woes very hard as well. Dr. Nickelbee heard me getting ready and hopped down from the top bunk. He wanted to have a ‘jammy time session’ to talk about my dream but I had to push him aside, there was no time for that foolishness. At the break of dawn I was on my scooter looking for Scott.
I found him in a back back alley in Downtown Lankville. After tossing the trash bags aside and the few loose women off him, I sat him up on a wooden crate to try and sober him up. I tried to relay my dream to him but he didn’t want to hear about it. “Can’t you see I’m living a nightmare of my own, Bri!!” he said through his whiskey breath with a crazy look in his eyes.
Pizza Pouches!!! Hoping this will be the ‘next big thing’.
“But it’s okay Scott, the answer has finally come. We don’t need to make edible pizza purses, we just need to make portable pizza pouches!! Dudes-and most butch women-don’t want to carry purses anyways. And if we make clear that people can show off the best looking slice they got! Well…”
I saw a gleam in his eye.
Getting him sober enough (which is about the best you can do anyways), we were at the Lankville Patent Office first thing when they opened. Well that was a few days ago and let me tell you things are already turning for the good. The first few test pouches are looking great and there is a new hot buzz going around about them!! This weekend will be the first big marker but we have high hopes. We are even going to set up a stall by the downtown Lankville cinema to hop on the hottest movie premiere of the year- ‘Star Battles In the Stars: Episode 27’. Even Big James is coming up with plans for a ‘nacho cheese pouch’ which will probably be him just taking the already existing pouch and just filling it with nacho cheese.
Well anyways, that is my slightly early Xmas time miracle this year. I hope you and yours find some of the same bumpkin magic this season!! As always, please keep your minds and mouths open to new ideas. Happy Eating!!-Bri
Committees, Steering Committees, Sub-Committees: Which Do You Need?
Is your business losing hours of productivity trying to decide what type of committee you need? It can be a difficult decision. Would a standing committee work best? What about a steering committee? Or a sub-committee? Would an advisory committee be the way to go? Or should a standards committee be established first? The options can be daunting.
Dr. Samways
Fortunately, Samways and Fick: Consultants are here to help.
Samways and Fick will arrive at your offices (in a van) and immediately establish a Pre-Policy Consulting Committee aimed at learning what Post-Policy Consulting Committee would be best for your company. We know how to ask the pointed questions, write on white boards, and eliminate needless abhorrent detritus to find the committee that is the best fit for you. Samways and Fick: Consultants will then unleash a Pinwheel of Possibilities®– you’ll have to be on your feet! When the Pinwheel of Possibilities® begins spinning, possibilities often carom crazily off walls and even your ceilings. Rest assured, however, a possibility will always fall gently into your lap like a fluffy pillow. Do an internet search for images of fluffy pillows if you need further clarification.
Once we have helped you discover your ideal committee, Samways and Fick will then implement a series of Pre-Committee global communication campaigns, targeted at recruiting key committee personnel. Remember, committees need not be composed of only your current staff. At Samways and Fick: Consultants, we have found that the best committees are often people you don’t even know, people who are complete strangers, even people who are foreign and speak strange backwards undeveloped Island languages.
Dr. Fick
We will then reveal our suite of technology tools and employee portals that deliver across the full range of committee alternatives. These services are highly-secretive, however, and may only be revealed to select clients.
Find out if you qualify. Call Samways and Fick: Consultants today.
Samways and Fick: Helping You Reach the Area Near the Top of Your Mountain.
OPINION: I’ve Been Punched in the Mouth at a Candlelit Child’s Christmas Eve Pageant Before, I’ll Be Punched in the Mouth at a Candlelit Child’s Christmas Eve Pageant Again
By Dick La Hoyt
Seasonal Opinions from the Archives
This is a message for that joker that punched me in the mouth at a candlelit Christmas Eve pageant last night. Guess what, asshole? Been punched at one before, I’ll be punched at one again.
My niece was playing one of the animals from the first Christmas at some auditorium, so I went along. Got a chair right near the front in the middle aisle and I laid my coat over the back and then popped off my knitted sweater and draped that over a couple more chairs, one for my sister and her husband. Then, I ducked out back in the parking lot for a cigarette.
I come back and you wouldn’t believe it. My coat is thrown off to one side and this horse’s ass is sitting in my seat. So, I go up to him and I’m like WHOAAAAA BUDDY! THESE SEATS ARE SPOKEN FOR! This guy, he starts arguing with me about the coat and the sweater not being no “reserved” sign and I say YOU BETTER STEP OFF MAN, BETTER STEP OFF and my sister starts crying and pulling at my arm cause all the kids are starting to come onstage in their donkey outfits or whatever and some dude is walking around lighting these candles that was set up everywhere.
“We better take this one outside,” this clown says. GLADLY I say, and we start out a side exit. I turn around and BAM. I take it right in the mouth. I don’t remember much after that until I woke up in some sand. Must’ve been a playground or something. I could hear singing coming through the windows of the candlelit auditorium. I tasted blood.
So, just so this motherlovin’ asshead knows it– you ain’t the first, pal. I’ve been punched in the mouth at a candlelit child’s Christmas Eve pageant before, I’ll be punched in the mouth at a candelit child’s Christmas Eve pageant again.
News in Brief
By Brock Belvedere
KEEBAUGH HONORED
Zach Keebaugh got a medallion.
Lankville Daily News columnist Zach Keebaugh received a shimmering medallion last night for his work in the field of investigative reporting. Keebaugh was one of three recipients.
“Yo, it’s good to get out, socialize, get this god damn medallion,” the journalist noted. “I spend an awful lot of time in that overheated hell of an apartment over the knives and puzzles shop, just doing nothing, man. Just sitting around with one of those little plastic games, man. You know, where you got to guide the marble through the maze. God, what a shit show. Who knows, might meet some ladies here, take one of them home, you never can tell, man.”
Keebaugh did not take any ladies home, sources later confirmed.
SAMWAYS AND FICK ISSUES HOLIDAY CARD
A glimpse at the message inside the Samways and Fick Annual Holiday Card.
Samways and Fick, Lankville’s most prestigious consulting firm, issued its annual holiday card today after much anticipation.
“I wrote the interior message myself,” Samways, who was wearing a giant foam jacket, noted. “I think it’s really beautiful and conveys to our clients how much we love them, how much we grow with them and they with us.”
The foam jacket suddenly began to expand and Samways ended the interview prematurely.
Only 300 holiday cards were issued.
“Your business should consider itself very, very lucky to get a Samways and Fick card,” said Barlow Foods CEO John Barlow. “It means that you are at the pinnacle of commerce in Lankville. We, of course, get one every year.”
Samways and Fick has been helping you reach the area near the top of your mountain since last year.
SMALL MOTEL GIRL WRESTLING ROUNDUP
A series of exciting small motel girl wrestling matches were held last night at the El Patio Motel (Room 14) in Capitol City.
Tandy McLemore (14-3) defeated newcomer Peachy Lynn the Bomber (0-1) in the headliner.
“Peachy Lynn tried cornering Tandy between the two double beds,” noted commentator Dick Oakes, Jr. “That’s a real rookie mistake and she paid for it. The area between the double beds is an absolute no-man’s land in small motel girl wrestling.”
McLemore is set to take on The Fabulous Lass (13-2) in January.
Royer to Purchase Dinner Theatre
By Buck Igloos
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
Noted Lankville business magnate Ric Royer will officially add a dinner theatre to his holdings, sources are confirming.
“We can confirm that Mr. Royer is purchasing the Walter W. Pipette Memorial Dinner Theatre,” a spokesman, who refused to be identified, stated. “I don’t have any concrete figures at this time.”
The Walter W. Pipette Memorial Dinner Theatre
Royer, who spends every holiday season in seclusion at the Foontz-Flonnaise Mental Institution, was not interviewed.
“This is Mr. Royer’s peak time with his illuminated porcelain Christmas village layout. We won’t see him until January,” the spokesman noted.
The Walter W. Pipette Memorial Dinner Theatre has provided entertainment and dinner to Southeastern Lankville residents for over 60 years. It was founded by Pipette, a thespian and theatre advocate, who was smothered in 1959. The theatre was later named in his honor.
“All the great Lankville playwrights debuted there,” said longtime actor Manny Outfits, now retired. “And they really did have good dinner. And then eventually they installed TVs, puzzles, games right at the tables. So, the theatre was really secondary. Or not even secondary. It was just background noise. Hell, sometimes they were even late with raising the curtain. But that’s okay because it rubbed off on a few people.”
Outfits was suddenly involved in a challenge and the interview ended prematurely.
No programming changes have been announced.
Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.
Dick Oakes, Jr.
For about three months, I passed her every day at the corner of Pondicherry and Pendleton.
It was nearing summer when she spoke to me.
“Don’t I see you all the time?”
“Yep.”
“What do you do?”
“…I…I do some writing. Freelance.”
“So, you’re a bum? You loaf?”
I had to give it to her. Plus, she had a hell of a set of legs.
She looked between the office buildings where a lonely farmhouse, about to be bulldozed, sat forlornly.
“Because of a lingering pro-rural bias in the scholarship, studies have revealed more about the mid-nineteenth century Lankville farmhouse than about these office towers.”
I nodded senselessly. I had been on my way for some beers. All I had been thinking about were those beers. And now, this.
She stretched and gave me a good look at the cans.
“So, I suppose you’ll write about me, then?”
“Maybe. Mostly, I just cover the Small Motel Wrestling circuit. In the West, at least. They got another clown in the East…” I trailed off.
“I don’t care for Small Motel Wrestling. It’s base.”
“Well, I guess they’ll probably just shut down the whole operation now that that’s out.”
“You’re teasing me.” The sun hit her face. It was god damned glorious.
“Maybe I’ll talk to you again,” she said after a time. The lunch crowd was spilling out of the offices.
“Maybe so.”
I didn’t see her again but I did get those beers.
Brian Schropp on Cuisine
Brian Schropp
Brian Schropp returns this week after a harrowing series of adventures.
“For Christ’s sake Brian! You gotta have something up your sleeve, it’s now or never!!” I could tell Scott was reaching his boiling point. What was I do to? Did he really think I could just summon my brilliant ideas on a whim? I sat in the slightly broken office chair like many times before, swiveling back and forth with all my might trying to shake the ideas out.
Even with being on the verge of Scott’s mighty wrath it was good to have him back managing ‘The Round’. I should be telling you the awesome story of Scott finally defeating Lizzie Starlight and The Floating Baby Pizza Cult. It’s an epic tale indeed, sweeping up not only Scott’s sister but also yours truly in the hunt for this ultimate evil (hence why you haven’t seen any articles for a few weeks). This tale took us all over the map- the back roads of Western Lankville, the deepest darkest parts of Highway 71, on a makeshift raft to the mysterious Lankville Islands, and finally to a place that wasn’t even our own, another plane of existence so to speak. It was here, in this frightening world, that the fight with the hideous Floating Pizza Baby came to it’s climatic conclusion. All three of us were pushed to our physical and mental limit during this trial with each losing a bit of our sanity yet learning a little more about life. Yes, it’s a tale worth telling but alas since we have been back a greater, more pressing issue has arisen. Something so great it has taken the pizza industry and flipped it upside down. The issue is, of course, the newest craze. Pizza purses.
It’s great to have Scott back!
Since being gone this new found fad has swept all of Lankville like none before it. Everyone who is anyone (men included!!) wouldn’t be caught dead without toting one of these cheesy creations around. Not that I need to explain this but in case you are living in some remote area, where maybe the lunch meat wallet is still ‘the in thing’, let me explain- the pizza purse is an edible handbag (coming in all shapes and sizes) which you carry around during the day much like a normal purse. The difference is, of course, once you are through with your day, you empty it and then have a delicious dinner all ready for you. There hasn’t been any time for me to do any research about who started this trend since I have been busy trying to get ‘The Pizza A-Round’ on board with this. Believe you me, if you are a seller of pizza in Lankville (and there are hundreds just in the Northern Suburbs alone) nobody is calling for the standard fair. Even our personal ‘cutting edge ideas’ like ‘The Mid-Morning Snack Pizza’ and ‘The Pizza Eggwich’ are rarely spoken of. ‘The Round’, through lack of leadership, has really dropped the ball and now looks somewhat behind the times. The only person who even attempted to keep up, ‘Big’ James, went out and bought cheap dollar store handbags and filled them with nacho cheese. Hardly a suitable alternative. ‘The Nacho Cheese Sack’ just didn’t take off and made us look even more foolish.
Delightful pizza purses!!!
So here I was with Scott trying to pick up the pieces. He took my sauce-stained piece of scrap paper (I had been jotting down ideas in a desperate hope of finding something in these scribbles and doodles). After ripping it in half I braced myself for what would be my very first ‘Scott punch’. Instead he just sat down in his nice office chair and sighed deeply.
“I know we’ve been through a lot recently. Neither of us are at 100%, especially you Bri, after those cult members kidnapped you and did all that brainwashing stuff. I remember holding you like a baby on that makeshift raft as we made our escape to the Lankville Islands. The nightmares and mental anguish you endured– well, they…are…are still enduring!! I know it’s hard but I need you to dig deep and come up with something. Maybe we are thinking too much out of the box, let’s just start with a simple pizza purse design and take it from there. Yeah, it might turn into an all night session but what choice do we got?”
My failed attempt at making ‘The Round’s’ first pizza purse
Scott was right, I was nowhere near the same tender if somewhat ‘kooky’ guy I was a few weeks ago. If I hear a baby giggle while walking down the street my mind instantly fills with dread followed by horrific visions of the Floating Baby Pizza Slice. I knew it was gut check time, I had to put all of that behind and get down to what I do best– crafting the most innovative, cutting edge, culinary ideas this place has ever seen.
‘The Round’ was closed for the night so we had no one to interrupt us. I threw myself completely into the zone, only hearing Scott’s voice as a whisper encouraging me on. I was taking his advice and keeping it simple. Just starting out with a simple pizza purse idea, nothing more. Like any good jazz improviser would tell you, get the basics down and work magic from there. Not putting too much thought into it, I was letting my creative mind guide my hands to make it happen. I was feeling good, like many of our other ‘late night sessions’ before I sensed a possible breakthrough. Sadly, after taking my result from the pizza oven the cold winds of reality hit me right smack in the face. Maybe I wasn’t the man I was before. Scott laid his head down on the counter and started to sob.
I will keep you informed readers of what we will do to try and compete in this new high stakes pizza purse industry. Until next time, please keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas. Happy Eating- Bri
Is Online Dating Safe? A Zach Keebaugh Investigation
Zach Keebaugh
Yo, there’s about a million online dating sites these days for single Lankvillians to pick from– Companions, Fair Enough Cupid, The Bump, The Pumpkin Patch, Smackers, and Sunshine, GO! are just a few of the more popular platforms. With tens of thousands of eligible ladies online, you’d think a guy could do pretty good for himself, could ratchet up some serious clean and jerk skills, if you know what I’m saying. But is online dating safe? I aimed to find out. I am Zach Keebaugh, Investigative Reporter.
First thing I did was go undercover. Some real cloak and dagger shit, dog. Made up a bunch of fake names and used my cousin Steve’s picture for my ad– Steve’s got a face like a cherub but there’s an element of danger in his eyes– the ladies eat that fucking crap up.
Within minutes, I got several replies– even got a picture of some girl half-wrapped in a blanket on a couch flashing nothing but bare ass out the back. So, I sent her a message– “that blanket is rad, girlfriend” followed by a couple of those shiny cat stickers and a smiley face. She wrote back pretty quickly:
I’m an assertive woman with a sweet, “accommodating” boyfriend, and I’m very interested in finding someone(s) to hang out with, while he’s made to follow a few steps behind.
She invited me to meet her (and her boyfriend) at an abandoned airplane hangar in the Lankville Outlands. “He’ll be dressed as a dragon,” she wrote. “You’ll see him instantly. But you’ll have to find me!” The whole affair sounded pretty killer but was it safe? Before I said yes, I figured on making a call to Berenice Bruno, of the Lankville Online Safety Steering Committee.
“You should always meet someone for the first time in a public place, Zach,” said Bruno. “You should never, under any circumstances, meet a woman for the first time in her home or in a location that is abandoned or derelict.”
“Why?” I probed. “Plenty of open space in an airplane hangar. What’s the worst that could really happen? Besides, this is prime time shit, this is. Dude’s gonna’ be dressed as a fucking dragon.”
“All the more reason to be doubtful, Zach. Your first date with someone you meet online should be one-on-one. And you should always be leery of anyone dressed in a costume. That’s a real red flag right there, Zach.”
I let it ride a minute. Then I went in for the probe. “Is online dating safe?”
“Under certain circumstances, of course.”
“What about inter-investigation dating? You got a ruling in your little book there on that one?”
Bruno blushed and I figured on pursuing that lead a little later.
I decided to take her advice. I switched up my profile a bit, hoping to get a little classier action. I still couldn’t use my own photograph (I’m a pretty big deal around Lankville these days– can’t even walk down the street without some clown pulling up and asking me to investigate some dogshit cause), so instead I used a pic of my homeboy Brian Schropp. I was banking on Brian’s sweet and tender nature luring the ladies in like a hermit to a cave.
Unfortunately, I didn’t think about Schropp being a celebrity too. So, I ended up getting nothing but requests from fat girls who wanted discounted pizza or some review of their bullshit new cupcake kiosk. But for the sake of the investigation, I asked one out.
Her name was Vancette and we met up in the Red Room of the Casa Montecristo (an elegant reception hall). I saw her first and let me just say, she was selling it everywhere. I sidled up to her at the bar.
“Who are you?”
“Yeah, listen, I’m zach132 from Companions. Sorry about the fake photo.”
“So…you’re not…Brian Schropp?”
“Nope. I’m all Keebaugh.” I threw open the sports jacket I had borrowed from my cousin for effect.
She seemed real disappointed. “I was really hoping you’d be Brian Schropp. I’ve always wanted to meet Brian Schropp. Have you read his wonderful reviews? He has such a refined palette. Such a sweet and tender soul. It’s going to be a lucky gal that ends up…”
I cut her off. “Listen, why don’t we get a table. After all, meat is the special tonight.”
“I don’t think so. I feel…well…disappointed and lied to.” Then, she suddenly hit me in the face with her purse. It was just like a movie– everybody stared and DJ Humphrey stopped spinning for a minute.
Later on, I called up Berenice Bruno and told her what happened.
“Well, that’s another thing about online dating, Zach. You need to be honest, forthright. It’s only fair.”
“Is online dating safe?” I probed, suddenly.
She sighed but we kept chatting on awhile after that.
So there you have it, yo, quick and easy safety tips for the first date meeting from an online connection. That shit is delivered.
OPINION: I Step Aside for No Earthly Being
By Carl Dunn
You’ve seen me. A demon in a kind of nightmare, perhaps?
Out at Twin Removed Pines Mall, over in the corner of Lot B by the frozen meat store. The boarded-up fotomat.
I live there. But maybe not for long. The Lankville government wants me out.
Back in June, when I set up my patio furniture around the fotomat, was when they first noticed. A man from the mall, his face like a pitiless crag and bearing the degenerate name of Kites. He told me I’d have to leave. I issued a hard challenge.
I pointed to a nearby half-demolished grove. “Over there. Shirts off. Five minutes.”
Turns out Kites was as chickenshit as his profligate handle. Never showed up. And time moved forward.
Then, it was October. I was planting some bulbs in the aprons of dirt on either side of the fotomat. I take care of that which I am owed.
The interlopers pulled up in a fancy town car. One of them was the pretender king, Pondicherry himself.
He looked at the fotomat for awhile. Tried the door (I hinged one of the plywood cover-ups for easy access).
“The spirit of Lankville is resiliency,” he said. “From a small seed grows homes. This is nice, what you have here. I admire your frontier spirit.”
The Sanctuary (fotomat)
I couldn’t understand anything he was talking about. This was no frontier. It was merely the soil of the Eastern Lankville Suburbs. Born and bred, I am.
Pondicherry spoke again. “I’m afraid there are people, deep within our government, who disapprove of you living in this abandoned fotomat. I am not one of them. However, the people have spoken.” And that’s when he handed me my eviction papers.
“You can hand me these papers,” I said. “But you’ll have a fight on your hands. The Dunn’s are bound to this here earth. And we possess an implacable and bitter reserve of undefeat. I will fit you into a world that is smaller than the one in which you find yourself. It is my intent to summon the effluvium of hell.”
He looked dazed. Then he vomited. It was a grotesque farrago of candy and pancakes. His seconds whisked him away. The paper I buried. The men who wrote it– they shall one day emerge from a holocaust which will take all security from them. Slashes of light shall not penetrate the dull gloom of their wasted lives.
I continued planting bulbs. I acquired the frozen meats and seared them across an open flame.
It was December. I looked across the lot. A wild Outlander on a ladder, hanging glitzy decorations over the lamp poles.
I approached him.
“It is my intent to annex this part of the lot,” I told him. “You witness that homestead?” I pointed to the fotomat.
“What? You mean that old photo booth?” His tongue was of a lower-order. An inscrutable creature.
“Aye. It can no longer hold me. I intend to build.”
“…This is the mall’s property. The fuck you think you can build there?” Colorful whorish balls ringed in gold appeared from his box. Monstrous.
I spat and went back to the ancestral edifice.
Construction began this morning. Men ringed me as I worked. But I worked consistently through dinner. They know now.
The opinions of Carl Dunn are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.
I Want to Tell You SO Much About How My New Boyfriend Took Me to See a Pony
By Ashley Pfeiffers
OH MY GOD! I just HAVE to tell you about how my new boyfriend took me to see a pony!
So, we were supposed to have our usual date at the Pizza A-Round. My new boyfriend borrowed his Mom’s station wagon and we headed on out to the Deep Eastern Suburbs. My new boyfriend was telling me all about a new riser pad he had just installed on his skateboard. “That wheel bite was a disaster, Ash,” he said. “But with that new riser pad, my God, my life is so much different now.” I wasn’t sure what he was talking about but he is just SO CUTE. We are so in love.
After awhile, we came to the Round but then my new boyfriend drove right by it.
“Got a surprise for you Ash. We’ll get our pizza later.”
I WAS SO EXCITED. He is just SO ROMANTIC.
We drove a little longer and then we turned off onto a country road lined by split-wood fences. Finally, my new boyfriend edged the car into a little dirt lot crowded with old farm equipment. Some chickens scurried off.
An old man appeared out of nowhere. He was eating some corn straight out of a can. He mumbled something but I couldn’t understand it.
“This is my Uncle,” my new boyfriend said. “This is his spread.”
The old man spit some corn onto some of the chickens. I almost DIED. I felt so SAD for the chickens.
“Oh, they like it, Ash,” my new boyfriend said, noticing my concern. He kissed me suddenly. The old man mumbled something else incoherent.
“Ash, we just need to walk over this hill– I’ve got something to show you.”
I followed my new boyfriend up the hill. It was steep and slick from the recent rain. “I’d climb any number of really big hills for you, Ash,” my new boyfriend said. I pushed his hair out of his face and kissed him again. We stood on top of the hill kissing passionately. WE ARE SO IN LOVE.
My new boyfriend pointed to a little barn off in the distance. “It’s in there, Ash. What I want to show you.” He took me by the hand. The sun suddenly hit us both as we descended the hill. I was SO NERVOUS!
He led me into the barn. And there, in a little wood stall, was a PONY! It had a pink bow tied around its neck.
“OH MY GOD!” I said. “Is this pony for me?”
My new boyfriend was confused. “Oh, you mean, because of the bow? Naw, my Uncle just likes putting pink bows around ponies.”
I looked up at my boyfriend.
“Yeah, I dunno.”
I spent the next hour petting the pony, brushing his mane and giving my new boyfriend all kinds of kisses! It was just the SWEETEST THING EVER!
“Ash, I’m starving, babe. What do you say we go wreck some ‘za?”
“I’ll see you again, pony!” I called. OH MY GOD– I am just so in love with him.
And my new boyfriend.
It was just the greatest day EVER!
I’m Thankful…for Men
By Dr. Kevin Thurston
Dr. Kevin Thurston is an expert on men’s feelings.
I’m thankful…for men.
What does that mean, Dr. Thurston? (that’s you asking). It means that any true empowering of one’s presence requires the acknowledgement of one’s own vulnerability. And there is no better time than the holidays to become vulnerable. Breakthroughs only occur after fear, horrific dread and naked, quaking vulnerability. And after giving thanks.
One exercise in your Thurston Methods workbook (just $19.99, $29.99 with online access code) is to draw a large cube on a piece of poster board. You will now fill that cube with all the things for which you are thankful. I’d like to draw a circle, a patient of mine once suggested. Although I was thankful for his advice, I made it quite clear that the shape would be a cube because it’s outlined in the workbook. Editing the workbook would require a reprinting that would raise its suggested retail price thereby preventing me from passing on savings to my patients. You can’t have it both ways.
I put my hands together in a pacific manner and watched as the men filled in their cubes. When the task was completed, I asked the men how they felt. Many were reticent to speak up. “You leave this exercise as a man who is now grounded in his confidence across the most important domains of life,” I offered.
You sure ’bout that? said one man (he had been assigned to my office to satisfy some court-ordered anger management hours. All we did was drew a cube an’ wrote a bunch of crap. I squatted (I always find this effective) and completed a Thurston Breathing Exercise. “Tell me about that?” I asked.
Jus’ saying. Jus’ a cube an’ whatever.
“They say we only use about 10% of the intelligence we have in our brains. I believe that’s because 80% lies in our bodies. And there’s also another 10% that just floats away, but that’s a subject for another session,” I noted.
He seemed confused but he did draw a nice cube.
Lankville Daily News Guide to Picking the Perfect Thanksgiving Day Outfit
By Ric Royer
HOLIDAY NEWS YOU CAN USE
Begin by understanding your Thanksgiving location beforehand. If you have never been there before, it will be important to case the house weeks in advance. Affect the persona of a gas and electric official, a salesman of tents, or one of those guys that solicits donations for pandas in order to have a better look. Pay close attention to doors and windows.
Avoid buying your outfit anywhere but at a large, suburban shopping mall. I generally skip the “poor” area of the mall and go straight for the luxury wing. Be sure to stop at the food court first though and loudly consume a meal rich with proteins. Be sure that at least one item you have ordered is a similar repeatable shape (you’ll see why). Complete your repast with a Cinnamon Buns. Order it “to go” and make sure the server gives you a wide basin (don’t them let tell you differently– THEY DO HAVE THEM). This way, you can rip the Cinnamon Buns apart as you walk along and let the errant pieces drop into the wide basin. Sometimes, it’s best to order two or three.
You may at first be tempted to simply purchase one of the many shirts that says “Thanksgiving” across its front– don’t be fooled. This is merely a ploy by certain retailers to sell more shirts. Ignore it. If you have the means, reach into the display case and knock over the mannequins. “I’M TEACHING YOU A LESSON,” you should say as you do this. You might save this act for last, however. Move onto the luxury retailer of your choice. Pick out a paisley blazer, red pants and some high socks that reach above the knee. Shove them onto the counter and turn your head away as though the last thing in the world you are interested in is buying these wretched rags (this often teaches the stores another lesson worth learning).
You will now want to leave the mall completely and head over to your nearest home improvement store– I recommend Home Dump. They have many locations, are severely understaffed, and easy to steal from. Pick out a bucket, a link of chain suitable to wear around the neck, a bundle of cedar wood shingles and several elongated lighters. You can hide a lot of these items in the bottom of the bucket– just throw your jacket on top! Often, they even forget to charge you for the bucket! Pay only for the shingles and the lighters.
Hopefully, by now, you will have a sense of where you be spending the big day. I want you to have a window selected– know that window. Does it push open in an inward manner (see photo)? Does it need to be thrown upward? Will it have to simply be busted through completely? Whatever the case, have your friend or lover drape a heavy canvas throw tarp directly beneath the window (so, you’ll need to go back to Home Dump and get one of those– I forgot before). Put on the chain and the red pants and keep the blazer handy in case it’s chilly.
And now, when you’re ready to greet your family, your friend’s family or your lover’s family, you come bursting through the window with one of the shingles in your hand (the shingle should be on fire). I often find it useful to have my face painted as well and to be crying but that’s your choice.
You won’t come up short with this method. Everyone will have a wonderful time.
Ric Royer is a prominent Lankville businessman. He currently lives in the Foontz-Flonnaise Home of Abundant Senselessness mental institution.
Gone are the Thanksgiving Hams Says Local Worker: Weepy Stories of the Holiday
By Brock Belvedere
WEEPY STORIES OF THE HOLIDAY
Sherman Fenanigans is a thin, wiry man who looks every one of his 58 years. He sports unfashionable aviator glasses, repaired many times with tape and a faded grey uniform that has been brushed so often that the bare fibers are now visible. His paper hat is dented and creased.
Sherman has been in charge of cakes at the Barlow Foods Lankville Heights location for 32 years. “I don’t bake the cakes,” he is quick to clarify. “My authority kicks in once the cakes have been removed from the oven but before they have been placed in the cardboard containers.”
He has a family of eight to support. The holidays are a particularly difficult time. And they have been made more difficult since Barlow Foods, a multi-billion dollar corporation, did away with holiday bonuses.
“It’s been about five years since they did that,” said Fenanigans, who was interviewed while watching carefully over the display case of cakes as the brisk mid-morning crowd passed by. “We used to count on that.”
“Tell us about that?” we probed.
Fenanigans at work. He has just dropped a cake into some vegetables.
“Well, for the first 10 years, they gave us a Christmas turkey. Every year. Then, they said they couldn’t do it anymore, so they gave us Thanksgiving hams. That went on for about five years. Then, they said they couldn’t get the hams anymore but that they’d give us $10 and we could buy our own hams. That went on for another two, maybe three years. Then, they stopped giving us the $10.”
Fenanigans paused to let the weight of the sad tale sink in. It didn’t. I was genuinely flummoxed by his statement.
“What happened to the hams?” I asked.
“As I said, they stopped buying them for us.”
I still was vastly confused.
“Well, I mean, what happened to the hams they were supposed to buy for you?” I probed.
He looked at me. “What do you mean, what happened to ’em? They didn’t buy ’em.”
That’s when the picture started to become clear.
“Oh, I see. So, someone else bought them.”
“Well, yeah, I guess,” he said. “I have no idea.”
I wanted to understand further. “So, it freed up hams that just went back into the general pool of available public hams?”
I wanted to understand further. “So, it freed up hams that just went back into the general pool of available public hams?”
“Yeah, basically. And, so now we still have ham for Thanksgiving but it takes away money we could have spent on additional side dishes.”
He broke down then. He had to take a moment to collect himself. He handed his paper hat to me and asked me to mind the cake case. I did the best I could but I became so overwhelmed that I basically gave away all the cakes and made all kinds of additional wild promises. A manager had to be called.
Barlow Foods CEO John Barlow consented to a brief meeting. I explained Fenanigans’ predicament.
“The policies of giving away holiday meats were no longer viable,” he noted, calling attention to several spreadsheets with interior flip-up tables on a computer screen. “The resources were no longer there. It’s a different time now then when Mr. Renanigans [sic] was originally hired.”
But for many Barlow Foods employees, that means a skimpier holiday table.
“We’ve had to cut back on things like cranberry sauce, corn, chocolate loafs,” noted Fenanigans. “You just have to learn to let certain traditions die. But it’s difficult.”
ACCOMMODATIONS
When staying in the Area Beyond the Outlands, pick the Murray. Friendly, creative staff, delightful beds, curtains. Phone Far Outlands 5-6712.
LANKVILLE DAILY NEWS: IN BOOK FORM!
The book is gone. It will never return. We hear stories but they are likely false. We live in the woods now. We make fire with a lighter that we found in the street. It was crushed by a truck but, somehow, perhaps through some intervention that is beyond us, it still works. We are waiting. We are waiting.
Original Pondicherry Association News promotional advertisement (2009)
TONIGHT ON TV! RICHARD AND THE POSTMAN REUNION SPECIAL!
The Hit program from the 1970's returns to Lankville TV tonight on LBC!
ADULT ADVERTISEMENT
Women all over Lankville are just sitting at mammoth computers waiting to hear from men like you! Just insert a floppy disk, write a (non-sexual) message and let the sparks fly! (Computer not included).
ADVERTISEMENT
A Vitiello Decorative Ham makes a great gift. Show that you care today.
BANDED DUFFELS ON PALLETS
Assorted colors. Whatever you want to do, man. Call Lankville Falls, 3247.
BRIAN SCHROPP IN THE LANKVILLE DAILY NEWS
The most important cuisine articles ever written.
CANDY
Jipps Co. Full Service Candy Counter! Our alert girls will push gummy drops into special paper sheaths, engage in restrained pleasantries and explain chocholate-to-nougat ratios. Call Central Lankville 3614.
CAT PHOTO
In compliance with Lankville subsection 11:16-4.
CHAMBERS CO. HAND DRILLS: When Electricity is Not an Option
When electricity is not an option consider the Chambers Company hand crank drills. Perfect for use in tight spaces, on distant islands or for drilling holes in fences to see TITS. Call 4-2309.
EMPLOYMENT
Big Ed's BBQ Shack is looking for a part-time waitress. Someone who doesn't nose around and ask a lot of difficult questions. Call Lankville Rougher Area, 5-2100.
EMPLOYMENT
Nuts, Ah! is looking for an experienced nut-handler. Experience with bagging nuts also important. If you break the nut sack, the nuts will drop onto the floor. Come in person for application to Twin Removed Pines Mall. NO CALLS.
FOX FOR PARTIES
Hire the Poetry Fox for Your Child's Next Party. Reasonable rates. Writes poems, dances, will not stand for any shenanigans. Call South Lankville 2009.
The funny stories of Dick Oakes, Jr. have thrilled millions. Look for them today in The Lankville Daily News!
GELSINGER’S ALLURE CLUB
Topless, bottomless wonderland. Mysterious back rooms. Carpeted entirely in astroturf. NO CALLS.
GREBOV BROTHERS TELESCOPE COMPANY
The Grebov Brothers are Lankville's finest purveyor of telescopes for astronomy enthusiasts. Substantial 4.5" apertures and fast f/4 focal ratios provide bright, detailed views of solar system targets like the Moon and planets, as well as wide-field celestial objects like nebulas and star clusters but also TITS.
GUMP PENETRATES
Only in The Lankville Daily News
HADBAWNIK HAUNTED STAIRCASE COMPANY
The Hadbawnik Company is Lankville's #1 installer of haunted, brush-littered staircases. Friendly non-foreign staff! Call Western (Outer) Lankville, 2154 or 2198 today.
HADBAWNIK HAUNTED BRUSH PILES!
The Hadbawnik Haunted Staircase Company is now offering haunted brush piles for use on your staircase. Create eerie, supernal ambiance. Allow the brush to blow haphazardly in the wind, creates fear, foreboding. Call our friendly staff of white people at Western Lankville, 2154. Brush piles may contain other forms of yard debris.
HEY! WANT A MONKEY?
Hey! Want a live little monkey? They do cute things like climb into pumpkins. Call "The Captain"- Central Lankville Hills, 5264.
HOME DUMP Your Neighborhood Hardware Store 16 Lankville Locations!
Weekly Special: Primitive Forged Hooks. Buy 4, Get a Can of Paint. Or Maybe Not. You'll Just Have to Find Out.
INFLAMED BY STARS AND BLOOD
Lankville's Premier Science Fiction and Horror Magazine Now Appearing in The Lankville Daily News!
JOHNNY PADRES, OPTICIAN
Lankville has been relying on Dr. Johnny Padres for their optical needs since 1973. We offer a full service family eye care center and provide examinations for glasses and contacts and have a large display of designer, traditional and innovative eyewear for both regular prescription eyeglasses and sunglasses all of which will enable you to see TITS better. Call Lankville Business 2618-2.
LIFE LESSONS FUNERAL HOME
Life Lessons Funeral Home has been helping Lankville with dead people since 1932. Contact Eddie or Stummins, Lankville Business, 5-2161.
LOOK AT THESE BEAUTIES!
Really some of our best ever! Have you ever seen anything like it? Call Kelly (male) at Lankville Sound 2615.
MISSING
Missing: adult penguin. Christ, I just let him out in the yard for one minute and now he's gone. Responds to the name "Richard". Call Lankville Eastern Outlands, 5-6213.
NOW PLAYING!
The Unhinged: A New Film by Tom "Vapor" Rayford. Crisp Street Cinema, Eastern Lankville
PINEAPPLE CITY: A New Way of Being
Pineapple City is a new way of being, feeling and having your shirt off. Located in the distant, barren Lankville Pines, Pineapple City is now accepting applications for sheds. Call PINES, 2-5771.
THE PUZZLER
In the pie chart above, what segment represents a certain specific strata of the general population?
REAL ESTATE
Little shed for sale. With door, mailbox, dirt plot. Site of multiple murders but don't worry, they happened around back. To inquire, come to the shed. Go around back.
REAL ESTATE
Four acre lot in Eastern Lankville Cove Area. Price reduced! Site of a fireworks display in which several people fell out of their lawnchairs and died. Locals believe it haunted but that's crap. Call Cove 2751.
THE RECKONER EXACTRA 2.0 : A Danny Madison Product
It's Your Time: CALCULATE
SARAH SAMWAYS: CONTRIBUTING FEMALE
Exclusively in the Lankville Daily News (and some other papers).
SPEAKING ENGAGEMENT
Robin Brox will sit around and get progressively more intoxicated while listening to this other broad natter on about something. LANKVILLE REGIONAL AUDITORIUM, August 4, 11PM.
SPEAKING ENGAGEMENT CANCELED
The Dr. M. Chambers speech and candy-making event has been canceled again following Dr. Chambers' sudden collapse into some baskets. New date TBA
TRAVEL TIPS by Randy Hammers
The Kum Back Inn in the Lankville Desert Area has long been serving road-weary travelers. They feature a restaurant (with cocktails) and two spacious conference rooms. The Kum Back boasts 65 units-- each including window dressing, some chairs and a larger chair (seats two smallish children), a bed with orange comforter, a plastic trash can, clever paintings, and a windowless door. TV also available in 17 (sometimes 19) rooms. Most of the rooms are air-conditioned. Oscillating fans available upon request. Illuminated carports will protect your vehicle from the vicious sudden dust storms that often overtake the Desert Area and the wild thieves that occasionally parade across the landscape like some unmentionable horror. Call now at TU-0780 and ask for Bud or Karen (married).
UTILITY YARD SHEDS
The Lowinger Brothers offer great utility yard sheds at low prices. This one is haunted. Call Lankville Port Area 1072.
VACATION PACKAGES!
Spectacular vacations in campers by little mountains. Your cares will melt away but you will have to be careful of that shack (pictured). A lunatic lives there. Call Mercantile District 2711.
WRESTLING TONIGHT!
8PM, Southern Lankville Man-Arena. Featuring Ric "Wild Boy" Tipps (green trunks).
ZACH KEEBAUGH INVESTIGATIONS
Only in The Lankville Daily News
The Lankville Daily News 
LETTER SACK