Employee Printing Out an Awful Lot of Lion Pictures

June 8, 2015 Leave a comment
Buck Igloos

Buck Igloos

LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!

An employee in the Barlow Foods offices in Lankville City has been printing out an awful lot of lion pictures, co-workers are confirming.

The employee was identified as Kelley Pauses, 54, of North Suburban Lankville.

“I’ve been noticing an awful lot of printing being done recently, we’ve been going through a lot of toner,” noted Administrative Assistant Henrietta Schropp. “I’ve been keeping an eye on the queue, and I keep seeing print jobs with weird titles like “Thirsty Cubs”, “Sunning on the Savanna”, “Danger in the Long Grass”– that kind of thing.”

“We’ve counted over 500 lion pictures in the last two weeks alone,” Schropp added.

One of the lion pictures seized this morning.

One of the lion pictures seized this morning.

“I saw [Kelley] closing her drawer really quickly one day and I happened to notice it was stuffed full of lion pictures. I found it very curious,” noted co-worker Lance Parrisher, who later disappeared. “I think she disposed of a lot of files to make room for the [lion] pictures.”

Pauses refused to comment. Her lion pictures were seized this morning and she was sent home early.

“I guess it would be understandable if she had a child that was, say, making a poster for school about lions,” opined Parrisher. “But, she’s barren. I remember because we were all eating cake when she told us.”

“I think she lives alone,” Schropp noted.

Barlow Foods CEO John Barlow, reached by phone, stated that he did not yet have enough information to comment.

“I’ll need to know a little more about these lion pictures,” Barlow stated. “We’ll be keeping an eye on the incident.”

Categories: Lankville Action News: YES! Tags: , , ,

OPINION: I’ve Been Punched in the Mouth While Renting a Belt Sander Before, I’ll Be Punched in the Mouth While Renting a Belt Sander Again

June 8, 2015 Leave a comment
Dick La Hoyt

Dick La Hoyt

IMPORTANT OPINIONS

Yeah, this is a message for that shitscrew down at the Home Dump in the Lankville Hill Area. Guess what, asspipe? I’ve been punched in the mouth while renting a belt sander before, I’ll be punched in the mouth while renting a belt sander again.

So, here’s what happened. I’m just putting some finishing touches on a little patio out back– just a nice little place with some cushy seats where I can put my feet up at night, know what I mean? Got a little fire pit out there, a gas grill– I won’t lie, it’s kind of an oasis. Anyway, even though Tammy keeps saying Dick, it’s fine, it’s done I know to hell it could be better, so I go over to the Home Dump to rent me a belt sander.

I can tell the guy is a real smartass from the get go– like he thinks Dick La Hoyt is some kind of a sucker. Keeps saying, “Hey, man, your best value is to rent this for a week– that way, you can take your time.” “I don’t need no time,” I tell him. “When I start a project, I damn well finish it that day. You can bet your cheeks on that.” He gets real embarrassed then and he kind of dumps the belt sander on the counter in a real pissy way and starts writing me out some contract that’s about 20 pages long.

“What’s the speed on this thing– what kind of db’s are we looking at?  This thing got torque control?” I ask.

You wouldn’t believe it. This goon didn’t even look up– just kept writing.

“HEY, MAN! I can take my god damn business elsewhere. I already got figures from a couple of other places and they SURE AS SHIT are cheaper than YOUR ASS.”

He looks up and stops writing.

“Good for you. You must feel great now.”

Well, I won’t lie– I just about lost my shit.

“LET’S STEP OUTSIDE COCKSUCKER!” I yell.

“I’ll meet you in the garden section,” he said. “That outside enough for you?”

“GLADLY”.  And I walk over to  wait by the birdbaths and fountains.

Well, about fifteen minutes pass and I’m just fuming. At the same time, though, I’m burning daylight and I promised Tammy that I’d have that deck like the bottom of a baby’s ass by dinner. I ain’t got no time to wait around for this prick.

So, I start to head back to the counter. And I’m just coming around a big pile of bagged mulch and the next thing I know, the guy is standing right there. I take a swing and miss and then he pounds me right in the mouth. I go down like a god damn box of rocks and then, while I’m half-out, this turd dumps a bag of mulch on me. Even picks up a hose and waters down the mulch. Christ, I was soaked to shit.

But I just want him to know it and know it well– I been punched in the mouth while renting a belt sander before and I’ll sure as shit be punched in the mouth while renting a belt sander again.

Categories: Opinions Tags: , , ,

I Want to Tell You About How Me and My New Boyfriend Broke Up

June 3, 2015 Leave a comment
Ashley Pfeiffers

Ashley Pfeiffers

opinions

Yesterday, my new boyfriend and I were standing under the overpass. He was spray-painting the word “BAD” in big bubble letters on one of the pillars.

I thought he was going to kiss me at first. He came over and put his hands on my shoulders. And then he was like, “Ash, this is it. I can’t do this anymore.”

I AM SO DEPRESSED.

I asked why and he said that I wasn’t really into spray-paint culture and skateboarding. “But, I am, you’ve made me love it,” I said. I was crying. I couldn’t even see through the tears and I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was like there was a field of beautiful butterflies and then they all suddenly died.

“Ash, I need to focus on my career, you know?” my ex-boyfriend said. “The next guy that gets you, Ash. He’s going to be such a lucky guy.”

He touched my cheek and I looked into his eyes. Then, he gathered up his spray paints and skated off.

It started to rain.

Mom picked me up in front of the Decorative Ham factory. She didn’t say anything for a long time. Then she said, “I can only imagine how hurt you must feel…”

And I said, “NO, MOM, YOU CAN’T!” and I started crying against the window. She didn’t say anything for a long time after that and then she said, “take out your nose ring, honey, we’re going into the crafts store to pick up some glitter for your sister’s school project.”

OH MY GOD, I AM SO SAD.

I told Mom I would wait in the car. She touched my hair for a minute, then she took off towards the Craft Barn. I took out my pink notebook and started writing. That helped a little bit but then it just seemed like I was writing forever, that I didn’t even know what to write anymore and then Mom came back and gave me a pack of googly eyes.

“You used to laugh so much at these,” she said.

“When I was five years old,” I snapped back.

We started home. When we passed the Pizza A’Round, I started crying again. “That was our place,” I said.

“Really!!??” Mom responded. “I always thought that place was…” She stopped herself.

I went straight up to my room when I got home. I just cried and cried and cried into my pink stuffed penguin.

I AM DEVASTATED.

Categories: Lankville Action News: YES! Tags: , , ,

Yes, I Urinated on a Rack of Candy

June 3, 2015 Leave a comment
By Chief Hogsett

By Chief Hogsett

A LANKVILLE DAILY NEWS SERIES ON CRIME AND CRIMINALS

Two months ago, I got picked up at a pharmacy. I was just trying to buy one of those cheap little styrofoam ice chests. We were going to put some beer in there and go into the woods. We were looking for something to keep the beer cool but also something that was sturdy and fairly-durable. We weren’t looking for no hinged lid or grip handles– matter of fact, we were going to just leave the thing in the woods, maybe float it down the river. I know, personally, whenever I see one of them things floating down the river, I go after it. It’d give somebody something to do.

So, there’s this island clerk behind the counter and he don’t speak no Lankville or barely. He keeps pointing at the credit card swiper and I keep telling him that I want to pay cash but he’s so damn dumb he can’t understand me. Now, I’d already had a few but I wasn’t really that loaded. And he mumbles something and points to the button and I say, “CASH, YOU EVER SEEN A LANKVILLE DOLLAR BEFORE?” But this guy don’t want to take any cash from me– he wants me to pay with a credit card. It’s unbelievable these foreigners.

So, then I pick up this cat magazine that he’s got on the counter and throw it across the store. And he starts saying, “POLICE! POLICE!” and then I say, “NOW YOU’RE SPEAKING LANKVILLE, IMMIGRANT!”

And that’s when I started urinating all over his candy rack.

Yeah, I soaked it pretty good. All the gum, the candy bars, the funny stickers. I had a lot in there too boy– I was like a race horse. I even hit a couple more copies of that cat magazine on the counter.

That’s when Gee-Temple walked in.

“Chief, I see we’re going to have to take you in again,” he said. He looked at the piss dripping slowly down the racks. “That’s going to be the fourth time this month.”

“And you don’t have a shirt on, of course,” he said to himself. Which was true– I didn’t. Three of the last four times I’ve been bagged, I haven’t had no shirt on.

So now, they’re making me write this article on criminals in Lankville. It’s part of my “service duty”.

“They’ll have to make you a regular contributor,” Gee-Temple said, when I handed him my article. He just started shaking his head. “And you still don’t have a shirt on, for Christ’s sake. Somebody get him a shirt.”

They got me one. It has a cat on it which is kind of funny, in a way.

Categories: Opinions Tags: , ,

Gump Penetrates

June 2, 2015 Leave a comment
Gump Tibbs

Gump Tibbs

It’s time for another penetrating interview with Gump Tibbs. Today, Gump interviews Lankville Daily News correspondent and gourd aficionado Dr. David Hadbawnik.

GUMP:  So, Dave, you have that little area in the paper where you write about gourds?

DH: That’s right. One day I was driving with the family through the Lankville Glens, passing by roadside stands selling fresh fruits and vegetables and ammunition, and we pulled over to choose a weapon for the kids. And there on a little woebegone table off to the side was a meager selection of gourds. It made me angry, you know? Like gourds are some kind of afterthought, almost an embarrassment. Well, not to me they’re not! That’s when I realized I had to do something. I started with skywriting. But I wanted something more interactive, so I began holding workshops. Now the workshops operate as a sort of ongoing “knowledge community,” in which we discover together that gourds are not just a neglected food item, or even a fetish object or fashion accessory, but a whole way of life. And from that, I generate ideas for the Lankville columns.

GUMP:  Excellent!  And you write about other things besides gourds?

Dr. David Hadbawnik

Dr. David Hadbawnik

DH: Yes. Gourds have been a gateway to so many other things. I now consider myself a “budding” expert on other neglected plants, such as legumes, radishes, yams… Keep an eye out for my upcoming coffee-table book, Tubers and Taproots and Bulbs: Oh My! It will be out soon from Lankville Editions.

GUMP:  That’s just fabulous. You’re a doctor now too.  What kind of medicine do you practice?

DH: I haven’t decided yet; the possibilities really are endless – cardiology, homeopathy, astrology – and I’d like to try different things before I settle down with a specialty. For the moment, I consider myself an “intuitive” doctor. That means I’ll be out and about just kind of letting my mind wander, getting into a nice, foggy Zen state, and I’ll sense that someone nearby is having some discomfort from an ailment and go over and offer to help them. Often this takes the form of an impromptu massage; sometimes a round of staring at the affected area. People are always grateful!

GUMP:  Now, Dave, I heard you celebrated with a dinner at Casa Montecristo?  Pretty posh!

DH: My wife and I loved Casa Montecristo before it became so popular with the crème de la crème of Lankville, back when it was simply known as a Respectable Dining Venue. Now – sigh – it’s an Elegant Reception Hall. But we still love it, and Deejay Humphrey always plays our favorite song, “The Rose of Lankville.”

GUMP:  Absolutely wonderful!  How do you have time to do anything else what with gourds and medicine?

DH: I don’t know! But when gourds are your life, the time really just flies by, and it’s not work, it’s fun. If I weren’t being paid so much to do it, I’d do it for free!

GUMP:  Just exceptional!  I’m going to go fire some guns into the river– want to come along?

DH: I thought you’d never ask, Mr. Gump!

Categories: Penetrating Interviews Tags: , , ,

Pizza for Pondicherry, Part II

June 2, 2015 Leave a comment
Brian Schropp on Cuisine

Brian Schropp on Cuisine

The minutes were counting down to the most important pizza the ‘Pizza-A-Round’ would ever make. You could start to see the crust coming through the pizza oven and in turn men’s hearts beating faster. The other components for the’ Mid Morning Snack Pizza’ needed to be in place.

“Where the hell are the nuggets Charlie?!!” my manager, Scott asked not so nicely while cleaning the actual pizza box it was going in. Everything had to be pristine since this was going to President Pondicherry himself, nothing less would do.

“In the fryer now,” Charlie the nugget guy yelled over. “You said you wanted them as crisp as possible so I waited to the last minute. Don’t worry they will be done.” Scott probably wouldn’t trust anyone else saying that. But Charlie the Nugget Guy was a seasoned veteran– he knew what he was doing.

“Burgers and fries– someone tell me about them!!” Scott was using the cleanest pizza rag possible to clean the edges of the box.

Chet Cameron, one of the best.

Chet Cameron, one of the best.

Al Slappy was in charge of those– maybe not the best guy under pressure. “I-I forgot the ketchup on the cheeseburgers– gotta open up the buns to put it on!!” We all know that’s a dicey situation– the bun could be damaged with the melting cheese sticking to the burger.

Scott gave a sideways glance which would make the hardest of men’s heart stop. “You better pray to whatever God you do that you don’t fuck this up. Lou get over there and help him, make sure the buns are ok and the fries are going to be ready.”

‘Two Toe’ Lou was another veteran who should of been doing it in the first place. He had only two toes from the multiple times fryer oil fell on his feet, that’s how long he has been in the game.

The pizza was a quarter way out of the oven, so far looking good. The best person on the line and probably one of the best of all time, Chet Cameron (nephew of Hank Cameron, manager of Foodville) slapped the dough out and sauced it.

‘Big’ James who is in charge of the nachos ran up with a paper cup that was full to the brim cheese. “Got this ready Scott!!”

“There is no motherlovin’ nacho cheese on this pizza!” Scott smacked the cup right out of ‘Big’ James’s hands causing the boiling hot cheese to splatter into the large man’s face. He ran off screaming, some were really losing it under the pressure.

I was back by this time– cleaned up as best as I could. Not only did this pizza have to be perfect but we needed to get there ridiculously fast. There were no drivers who were going to make it back in time so I was going to have to run it. Yes, it was an impossible task but we had no other choice.

My manager Scott relaxing at home.

My manager Scott relaxing at home.

Scott grabbed my shoulders and looked me up and down. “Guess it will do,” he kept muttering under his breath. Then he yelled, “Melvin bring over one of the CBs and some duct tape!”

“Why?”

“JUST DO IT!!!” Most of us who worked at the Pizza-A-Round had the feeling thatour new assistant manager, Melvin wasn’t going to make it through the night.

Scott took the CB and the duct tape and strapped the unit around my chest and the receiver around my ear. “You won’t be able to respond this is just for me to yell at you in hopes that it will help.”

The pizza was coming out of the oven, Scott raced back over and grabbed the oven peel. With the skill of a true pizza veteran he scooped it out perfectly and placed it squarely in the box. There was some light applause but Scott didn’t have any time for that. “Nuggets now!!”

Charlie the nugget guy was over with two huge oven mits holding the deep fryer net, the nuggets were still sizzling when they hit the pizza.

“Burgers and fries!! Burgers and fries!!”

Al Slappy brought the fries over the same way, then ran back and got two cheeseburgers. He handed them to Scott.

“I needed three cheeseburgers!! Pondicherry ordered an extra freakin’ one!!!” It was almost an inhuman yell.

‘Two Toe’ Lou limped past Al with a third cheeseburger. He had quickly realized the mistake and rushed to make another one. Somehow during this process he lost another toe which we could clearly see (for some reason Lou only wore beach sandals which could of been half the problem). Right now that couldn’t be the top concern. With everything on the pizza itself the box was closed immediately to keep it at its hottest. The box was placed in my hands.

No words were exchanged between Scott and I–his eyes told the whole story. I also knew there would be plenty of yelling coming my way through the CB taped to my ear. Without missing a beat Scott moved to the front door shoving customers out of the way while I followed closely on his heels. I wished that annoying girl and her boyfriend were coming in right now instead of a few minutes earlier, I would have LOVED to see those two get knocked down.

​The Mid-Morning Snack Pizza which retails for $29.95

​The Mid-Morning Snack Pizza which retails for $29.95

As fate would have it I could see both of them laughing at me from the front window of the dining area when I was out on the sidewalk. I didn’t have much time to process it with Scott’s foot hitting my backside. “Run!!”
I started with a light jog since this wasn’t usually my thing but with Scott yelling at me from behind I was worried he would simply shoot me and try running it himself. I was in a full run (sweat already dripping from under my ‘Pizza-A-Round’ cap) by the time my booty was out of the parking lot and onto the road.

It was of course the evening rush hour and the roads were super super crazy. Things were made even more difficult with me sticking to the actual road and not the sidewalks in hopes of taking the most direct route possible. Cars were swerving out of the way, honking their horns, shaking their fists, even spitting at me. I kept yelling “Presidential pizza delivery!!” at the top of my lungs while the sweat poured down my face in hopes that would help. No luck, I think the drivers just couldn’t hear me. It also didn’t help matters with Scott yelling in my ear telling me to “hurry up” and “move my big ass faster”. I knew he didn’t mean most of the hateful things he would say over the CB, in fact we are actually pretty good friends, he was just stressed out.

A small ray of hope came when my former therapist, Dr.Nickelbee came driving slowly up behind in his electric car causing a traffic mess of his own. He rolled down his window. “Bri I need to talk with you.”

“Not now can’t you see I am making a Presidential pizza delivery?” I replied between heavy breaths.

“It’s important. We can talk while I drive you.” What choice did I have?

He pulled the little car over and I got in. As always, he put his hand on my knee right away. “Listen, I need to apologize to you about the way I acted the other day during our session.” (Please see my article from a few weeks ago for the details). “It was so wrong for me to lose it like that.”

“It’s OK, no worries, can you just drive now? I need to make this delivery.” The screaming in my ear wouldn’t let me forget.

Dr. Nickelbee paused for a second before collapsing into a full crying breakdown– banging his head against the steering wheel. “I just don’t want to lose you as a patient.”
“We need to go!” I could the feel the pizza losing its warmth from the box which was on my lap.

“I need you to tell me I can be your therapist again.”

“JUST DRIVE!”

“JUST SAY IT!!”

“Yes-yes now drive!”

Dr. Nickelbee-- what is his problem?

Dr. Nickelbee– what is his problem?

With that we were off with Dr. Nickelbee still sobbing. His electric car is very slow and soon I realized it was probably quicker with me running again. It really didn’t matter– a few blocks later the car came to a stop, I guess the battery had died. He got out still sobbing, banging his fists up and down on the hood of the car. I couldn’t stop to deal with this. I was out of the car and on my way again leaving him to deal with the angry commuters he was holding up.

It was then that the problem of super squirrels came into play. Once they smelled the delicious aroma of the ‘Mid Morning Snack’ goodness and sensed that I was alone they were on my tail. I eventually had to raise the pizza above my head in an attempt to keep it safely intact. I kept shooing them off as best as I could without stopping. The only good thing to come out of the situation was when one of the squirrels bit through the CB wire, stopping the yelling in my ear.

When I finally made it to the presidential grounds the sun was starting to set and I knew I was far too late. And I knew that the ‘Pizza-A-Round’ would be going down in flames like the many others who attempted a quick delivery to our chief executive.

I slowly walked up to the guard booth where I was warmly greeted by the person on duty. He had gratefully shot at the super squirrels chasing them away when he saw me coming. “Say there son you sure are a big stinky sweaty mess.”

I handed over the box mumbling about trying to get there as quick as possible and if there was anybody to blame it was Dr. Nickelbee holding the whole thing up and he should go to prison. Then a desperate plea not to shut down my place of work.

When he realized what I was talking about the guard started to chuckle. “Say son, this pizza isn’t for the President, do you think he would eat crap like this?” The guard whistled and Pondicherry’s three dogs (all named Mr. Peepers} came running out. The guard open the box and then put it on the ground so the dogs could go to town on it. “He ordered this for these lovable mutts before vanishing into one of his underground bunkers for the night. There was no hurry in bringing it– hell, it could been another hour if need be.”

That dear readers is just another crazy night in the pizza trade. Until next time, please keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas. Happy eating- Bri

Categories: Cuisine by Brian Schropp Tags: , , ,

Are Oscillating Fans Safe? A Zach Keebaugh Investigation

June 1, 2015 Leave a comment
Zachary Keebaugh

Zachary Keebaugh

It’s getting hot in Lankville and you’re probably thinking about dragging that old oscillating fan down from the attic, setting it up on a chair and letting it go to town. But are they safe? I aimed to find out. I am Zach Keebaugh, Investigative Reporter.

Wunderkind inventor Danny Madison laughed at the idea. “The traditional three-speed oscillating fan with the alleged “safety grill” (here Madison employed the use of ironic air quotes), 90-degree oscillation and adjustable tilt is, more or less, a dinosaur. At Danny Madison Industries, we no longer make them. Let me show your our version of the fan.”

Madison led me past a series of glass cases where strange products beeped and buzzed. We entered a windowless white room. Lights flicked on instantly at our appearance. “Yo, that’s cool,” I commented. “Like, magic lights and shit.” Madison eyed me up for a minute, then he led me over to a small device on a table.

“This is our version of the fan. Note, we don’t even use the word “fan”. We use the name “Air Augmenter”.”

Madison gave me a few moments to let it sink in.

“The Madison Air Augmenter collects air from one area and transfers it to another area, if you will,” Madison continued. “While this may seem like an obvious extension of vacuum motor science, the Madison Air Augmenter takes that collected air, filters it, and redistributes it as “Breeze Cubes”. Ours is the only product that can achieve this complex transformation.”

“Yo, you mean, the air comes out in big cubes?” I asked.

Fifty years ago called. They want their oscillating fan back.

Fifty years ago called. They want their oscillating fan back.

“In a sense,” Madison replied, as he removed a calculator from his jeans jacket and began to program a series of equations. “We also have successfully marketed an organic non-carcinogenic, non-toxic florescent dye that can be placed in the Air Augmenter. This allows the user to actually view the released breeze cubes with the naked eye. You can literally watch the cubes collect in your room.”

“So, your overheated shitbox of an apartment becomes like a cool wind rustling over the savanna?” I asked. Madison furrowed his brow.

In addition to all these awesome features, the Madison Air Augmenter requires no messy cleanup. No trying to wash out that big dented alien head of a grill in your bathtub while watching some challenge in the alley behind the knives and puzzles shop.

“The Air Augmenter needs no protective cover,” Madison said. He was back to the calculator again– punching a bunch of shit in there. “You don’t even need to wipe it down– it cleans itself. Sprays a fine mist on itself on a daily basis. Another feature that separates us from the so-called “oscillating fan” concerns. Also, the fan can be programmed via your “Reckoner”– another fine Danny Madison product.”

“So, you’re out working at the toy store or waiting for some bozo to finish up a steak sandwich and you can use your little calculator there to fill up your room with those cubes,” I commented. “You come home and BAM, you got yourself a room full of cubes.”

“Essentially,” Madison responded. He was staring at me again.

The Madison Air Augmenter retails for $199.99 and recently received an “A Safety Rating” from the Lankville Bureau of Probes.

Categories: Lankville Action News: YES!, Zach Keebaugh Investigations Tags: , , ,

SHOES TO DIE FOR!

June 1, 2015 1 comment
By Suzy Sweetly-Services

By Suzy Sweetly-Services

The tables were being draped in shades of pink for important guests that were soon to arrive. Soon, though, was more of estimate than an actual depiction of time. We all know that it isn’t fashionable to wear watches. There was a big debacle about whether or not to lay the knives “in” or “out.” I thought about just picking one up and slitting my throat but thought the better of it, as it would probably ruin the overall color scheme. Whatever.

I watched the door, standing at attention with my hands firmly pressed together behind my back. An old, bespectacled man, the embodiment of dust itself and melanin challenged, moseyed on over and up the stairs. Less aged versions of himself, dapper in business casual, followed suit. A supposedly “glamorous” woman with shoes that my co-workers would not shut up about walked by, confidently carrying her blazer over her shoulder with one hand. This also showcased her extensive gold bracelets on her bronzed wrists.

A

The set table (take note of the lovely floral centerpiece).

“She’s from Bunkum-Gild City, ya know…” a fellow waiter said in a hushed tone.

“What a classy woman,” said another.

“Those shoes could pay for a month of my rent, lemme tell you…” commented somebody else.

From a financial standpoint, I wondered to myself if that were actually true. From a perception of style, I’d seen better. Again, whatever. The appetizers were passed around but no one was really biting, so to speak. Cluttered around the bar, these patrons knew where the good stuff was. The pre-meal was served without a hitch, water glasses were filled enough to make the ice clink a couple of times, and everybody got their entrees within seven minutes. We all stood in the corner and watched them eat and pretend to have a good time. After plates were cleared, it was time for the next and final course: dessert!

A

The shoes that could pay for a month’s rent (file photo)

Somebody messed up the order and went to the wrong table first, totally passing by an annoyed President Pondicherry. I held back in horror, two bowls of strawberry soup stuff in either hand, awaiting instruction from a boss.

“Just go!” commanded a boss in utter despair.

Dessert was finally served and barely eaten. Much of it went to waste. Upon clearing the tables, the old dust cloud backed his chair into one of the waitstaff, causing her to trip over the wire hooked up to a nearby podium. Causing a domino effect, the strawberry soup stuff went flying all over the place. In a pre-emptive move that essentially was non-effective, the classy woman got up and broke her heel. Unsteady and not used to walking with the ground so close to her arches, she stumbled and ended up falling forehead first into her very own stiletto spike.

There was blood everywhere and everyone was running around with strawberry soup stuff all over their Pashminas. I went over and knelt down beside her to see if she was still alive when gasping for air, she grabbed my shirt collar and whispered what the actual retail price of her shoes were. Now I’d tell you but my break’s up and I’ve got to go clean out some toilets.

Mayonnaise and Mayhem,
Suzy

Categories: Opinions Tags: , ,

The Small Towns of Lankville

May 29, 2015 1 comment
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk

By Lloyd Byas-Kirk

Lloyd Byas-Kirk recently won a large, unwieldy trophy with several distinct layers supported by columns for his series on the small towns of Lankville.

One passes through a verdant dell, a gigantic graveyard and an abandoned cake refinery before arrival in the town of “Curtberg”, located in the Eastern Lankville Mountainous Regions. There is a gas station, a handsome restaurant named after a former Lankville President, some houses and some cars. It is a place where a man can sit outside and ruminate over the morning sun coruscating brilliantly off the rooftops, it is a place for peace but also a place for guns, it is a place that holds Lankville tradition deep to its breasts [sic].

Harry Solids is the “mayor” of Curtberg. “Well, I was not officially elected,” he says, as he we stand in front of the post office for reasons unclear. “But, I act as the sort of person that sits on floats and accepts medals and other ceremonial geegaws. And, when there is dissent, I’m the person that gets the beating. I accept that. It’s part of the job.”

Main Street, Curtberg

Main Street, Curtberg

Glenn Chowder has lived here for as long as he can remember. He works at the gas station, in the belt department. “This is a good town full of good people. We don’t cater much to interlopers,” he notes, as he consumes his meal (the meal of the Lankvillian– a hot dog and some raisins) in the grass behind the gas station. “We try to keep the town clean of nonsense.”

People like to look out windows in Curtberg. “We like to see what’s going on,” said resident Debbie Didier. “Like to see if the fence is holding up, if the garbage cans are on their paving stones at a proper angle, that the lids are on straight. It’s the little things that are important here,” Didier added.

Although the sun makes its radiant appearance in the early morning, it rains often here. A pounding, vigorous rain that leaves everything soppy and moist. “We’re all pretty much half-wet all the time,” Solids noted, as we moved along Main Street, passing in and out of a series of clashing storms. “You buy, say, a 24-pack of beer from the liquor store and the cardboard container is sodden before you get it out the door. You know how cardboard just kind of breaks down and turns real floppy? Just flops all over the place, you can’t control it, why try? And then it lands in the street and all the cans roll down the hill. That happens pretty frequently, everyday in fact. And I buy the big cans. The cans with the new “vast cavity” for more accessible drinking. Have you seen those?”

“I don’t drink,” I admitted.

Solids looked off towards the mountains. “Well, anyway, a bunch of my cans are at the bottom of the hill. They throw some straw over them and that’s that.”

“Terminus,” he added, after a long pause.

Pastor Glenn Laboy runs the town’s church. “I give a Sunday sermon and we have some little room sessions where people talk about life issues that are bothering them– work problems, the ceaseless rain, how hard it is to get anybody to put out for you anymore. I don’t judge, I listen. My job is to listen.”

“Shall we read a passage together in celebration of your article?”

Byas-Kirk immediately ran out of the church. The article will be continued at a later date.

Categories: Lankville Action News: YES! Tags: , , ,

Challenge Ring Busted Top Cop Says

May 27, 2015 Leave a comment
Buck Igloos

Buck Igloos

LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!

A massive Southern Outlands challenge ring was busted this morning according to Lankville top cop Houston Gee-Temple.

“We had a young man and woman, operating out of a modest rancher surrounded by hedges,” the intrepid lawman noted at a press conference held on the lawn of the home. “We believe that they were the masterminds behind most of the challenges in the Southern and Southeastern Outlands. We have boarded up the home and will be knocking down some of the hedges by the end of the day.”

Challenge Ring

Byrnes and Savers are led away.

An aide whispered something briefly to Gee-Temple at which time the detective amended, “we will not be knocking down the hedges, excuse me.”

The individuals taken into custody are believed to be Lance Byrnes and Diane Savers, both 18, of the Outlands.

“I knew Lance. He was an Honor Roll Student and a junior member of the Koala Bears and Walnuts Club,” Gee-Temple commented. “We believe that this Savers woman was the instigator– a willing wanton, a sordid she-wolf, if you will. She was a girl who was willing to do anything to get what she wanted. What we have here really is the provocative story of a naive young man caught up in a whirlpool of thunder, a hurricane of lust. It’s terrible when that happens to nice boys like Lance.”

The pair may be responsible for as many as 200 challenges dating back to 2011.

“[Diane] began her challenge spree confidently but it all came crashing down this morning when we knocked politely at her door and took her off to a place where she can no longer control the world by pulling her curves over its spherical surface,” Gee-Temple stated.

“That place is jail,” the detective added after a long silence.

Bail has been set at $50,000 (Lankville).

Categories: Lankville Action News: YES! Tags: , , ,

How to Get the Party Started

May 27, 2015 1 comment
By Mr. Mentor

By Mr. Mentor

So you think you’re real hot shit, don’t you? Careful now girl, easy does it now. Don’t inflate too many balloons if you ain’t prepared to party. Don’t pack your luggage just yet now. Deep down, you already know the itinerary; you’ve got to travel slowly and meaningfully and respectfully. Kiss maybe a quarter of the hands you meet and then shake approximately 17.5% of the babies you come across vigorously. Approximately, you know – give or take.

You want out of the endless cycle of running in place and chasing your own tail? You want to save the world? Go tell it on the goddamn mountain because some of ‘em are better than you and some of ‘em are worse but they’re all hungry, see? Which goes back into that party I mentioned before…

Did you set the table? Did you dim the lights? Are the salad forks on the correct side of the plate? Is the candelabra lit? Is the good china out? Are the glasses pristine? Is the wine sparkling? Is the conversation flowing, not forced?

Write nine ‘thank you’ notes to every guest who decided to show up, on the hour, every hour. Sound like a lot to do? Afraid you’ll mess it all up along the way, spilling gravy into someone’s irritated lap? You will, a little bit, but if you keep your head on both shoulders, your tie tucked away evenly under your collar, and your eyes and ears open – you might just host the party of a lifetime.

Categories: Lankville Daily News Tags: ,

Pizza for Pondicherry, Part I

May 27, 2015 Leave a comment
Brian Schropp on Cuisine

Brian Schropp on Cuisine

It was late afternoon at the ‘Pizza-A-Round’ when I heard the commotion up front. It sounded even more intense than the usual ‘beginning of the early dinner’ rush so I left my ‘managerial sink’ to investigate. The focal point of this chaos was front and center in the phone area. My manager, Scott and the new assistant manager (we go through assistant managers very quickly), Melvin were fluttering all over the place screaming and yelling. This in turn was sending the phone staff into complete nervous wrecks.

“Get Sharkie on the CB and see if he’s made that delivery to Deep Eastern Lankville yet!!” Scott yelled to Melvin.

My manager Scott relaxing at home.

My manager Scott relaxing at home.

We use what Scott calls an ‘advance’ CB system system with our drivers to ensure speedy deliveries. The central giant CB is located right outside of Scott’s office next to the phones. Melvin put on the headset and flicked a few of the giant switches. “Pizza Break 5-Pizza Break 5 this is home base-over-can you give me a locale on your delivery-over-” After a moment Melvin shook his head. “He’s caught up in traffic on the East Side, will be about another 20 minutes before he even makes it to the actual delivery.”

“Well he’s going to be caught up in a lot more when he gets back.” We knew from the expression on Scott’s face that this could be Sharkie’s last night on this planet.

Scott saw me looking on and his face lightened a little. “Guess what, Bri? Someone big just ordered one of your ‘Mid Morning Snack Pizzas’ with an extra cheeseburger. I’m not talking big like ‘Big’ James who runs the nacho station, I mean big in name. None other than President Pondicherry himself!”

I was taken aback for a moment. “Wow!! If he likes it and word starts to get around–”

“Big things Bri, very big things. HUGE THINGS. Ever thought this place could have it’s own private jet? Might be a reality if—”

​The Mid-Morning Snack Pizza for $29.95

​The Mid-Morning Snack Pizza which retails for $29.95

The downside hit me all at once and I knew the need for panic. I finished the sentence “—we can get it there quickly.”

There is a long history of President Pondicherry ordering from pizza places, then the place failing to get it there ‘fast enough’. Some of the best of the best– ‘Crust-A-Must’, ‘Three Fat Guys And One Skinny Guy Pizzeria’, and ‘Elbows Deep in Sauce’ crumbled after not making the cut. Sure they were fast but no 15 or 30 minute guarantee is good enough for the President. If he wants a pizza he wants it that second.

“Can someone from the line give me an ETA on the pie?!! I need someone on the fries and cheeseburgers in a few. Where is Charlie the nugget guy? I want those nuggets CRISP!!!” A slight sweat was forming on Scott’s brow.

Outside of the “Pizza Eggwich” this particular pizza is the most complicated to make. Each section, the cheeseburgers, the fries, the nuggets are like a piece of the overall puzzle with each part to be done at the correct moment to ensure the best result. And we needed this one to be the best ever!!

“Melvin, see who else is on the road and can be here in three minutes. I want this out the door after dropping it in the box.” Melvin called around on the central CB and soon looked at Scott just shaking his head. I knew Melvin was going to be a goner before too long.

Scott looked directly at me. “Bri, you’re going to need to run this one.” For a moment all commotion stopped in the “Pizza-A-Round”. The only sound was a pizza cutter hitting the floor.

“But-but Scott the Presidential House is clear across town!!”

My most important customer ever?

My most important customer ever?

“We have no choice in the matter. By the time any of these drivers came back and got back out on the road it will be way too late. I know the pizza will be heavy, I know it’s going to weigh you down some. But don’t worry– just stick to the main highways and weave in and out of traffic. People might slow down if you keep yelling that you’re making a Presidential pizza delivery but they would need to hear you so it’s unlikely. Not with that soft, gentle voice of yours.”

I started to complain and whine but it was no use. I knew Scott well enough that the look in his eyes meant there was no alternative.

“Go get yourself cleaned up, you’re a soppy wet mess. You have two minutes before it’s ready.”

I stumbled off mentally preparing myself when I noticed that the annoying girl who is in here all the time with her boyfriend was waiting to be seated (we have a small ‘dining area’ in a room right off the entrance). I grabbed two menus and led them to a table. With all that was happening I sorta mumbled that someone would be with them in a moment and started to walk off accidentally hitting the side of another table with my leg. The girl giggled (she never says anything) and then her boyfriend whispered something in her ear which made her laugh out loud. I had no time for this– I was moments away from beginning the run of my lifetime. A run that could make or break me.

Please join me gentle readers for my next article where I will give you the thrilling details about delivering a pizza to our very own President. Until then keep your mind and mouths open to new ideas. Happy Eating!!-Bri

Categories: Cuisine by Brian Schropp Tags: , ,

Oversized Beach Ball Accident Season Fast Approaching

May 27, 2015 Leave a comment
By Brock Belvedere

By Brock Belvedere

NEWS YOU CAN USE

Summer is almost here in Lankville– a wonderful time of backyard cookouts, swimming, watermelon and boats. But it can also be a dangerous time and the season’s biggest killer might surprise you.

“It’s oversized beach balls,” stated Lankville Consumer Vulnerability Clump chairman Ump Marstons. “That’s what it is.”

Marstons refused to elaborate and became distracted by a series of internet photos of kittens in boxes.

This could be you.

This could be you.

According to the Lankville Consumer Vulnerability Clump, hundreds of Lankvillians are injured by oversized beach balls every year. Detective Houston Gee-Temple, however, believes the figure may be high.

“You have some incidents where women are lying about on patio chaise lounges, allowing the sun to cascade off their summer-firm haunches and then, BAM, they get hit by oversized beach balls, but I’m not sure it’s worth a story, Brock,” the intrepid lawman noted. “I monitor beaches, patios, yards and I have seen very few over the last few years.”

The LCVC however, disagrees, and have already begun littering Lankville with cautionary signs and billboards.

“It’s a serious issue. A serious, serious issue,” said Marstons, who became distracted again by a slideshow of kittens wearing little hats. “You’ve gotta’ watch out out there.”

The first day of summer is June 21st.

Categories: Lankville Action News: YES! Tags: , ,

Schropp Keynote Speaker at “Bowls of Meat Festival”

May 26, 2015 Leave a comment
Jackie Sheds, Jr.

Jackie Sheds, Jr.

LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES

Lankville Daily News contributor Brian Schropp was the keynote speaker yesterday at the 1st Annual Lankville Suburban “Bowls of Meat Festival”. The event drew nearly 10,000 suburban Lankvillians.

“It was a great success and a big part of that was Brian,” noted organizer Natalie Sisters-Solutions. “Even though Brian’s speech didn’t make a lot of sense and even though he started crying all of a sudden for reasons unclear, people just liked seeing him. We all know that people who write for The Lankville Daily News are kind of a big deal.”

The event featured over 1,500 different bowls of meat spanning a wide-range of Lankville culinary traditions.

Schropp sits before the bowls of meat.

Schropp sits before the bowls of meat.

“I thought it was fantastic,” said an attendee, who was later carried off by hawks. “There were even bowls that appeared at first glance to be vegetables or some sort of weird seaweed thing or soup but once you pushed that junk aside, you saw it was just a big pile of meat underneath. I loved it.”

Schropp was pleased with the event.

“There were definitely some types of meat that I was unfamiliar with, some things that don’t really jive with my enhanced taste profile but otherwise I enjoyed myself tremendously. As I say, you should always keep your mouths [sic] open to new experiences.”

Schropp noted that he prepared his speech while riding a bus home from a urology appointment.

“Some good ideas were flowing but I didn’t have any paper with me, so I just wrote the ideas on my leg. Fortunately, I was wearing jean shorts that day, so I had a lot of space.”

Sisters-Solutions says that a 2nd festival is already in the works.

“We hope there will be more meat, more Brian, more bowls, more celebrations,” she noted.

Categories: Cuisine by Brian Schropp, Lankville Action News: YES! Tags: , , ,

Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr

May 21, 2015 Leave a comment
Dick Oakes, Jr.

Dick Oakes, Jr.

They dropped me off in a dirt lot. There was a phone booth with a big god damn cactus next to it and a faded sign above that said, “DISCOUNT GARAGE” and another that said, “BUS”. There was no garage and no bus had stopped here in an age– there was only a junked car and the remnants of a mean foundation made of unpainted cinder block.

There was a guy on the other side of the road smoking a cigarette. I thought about hitting him up (it had been a few days) but he suddenly dropped his pants and started pissing into a cowboy hat that was on the ground. I didn’t want no part of that.

I started down the road.

I came to a little shit town with a closed bank on one corner and a toy store on the other. Someone had dumped a bunch of gravel in front of the toy store door. There was a sheet hanging from the second floor window that said CLOSED BECAUSE OF THAT GRAVEL THAT YOU SEE THERE. I couldn’t figure on none of it and I kept walking.

Right before the road pebbled out into baked brown hills, there was a stark shitbox of a place that sat off on a lot of tangled brush and choked cacti. There was an old animated sign on wheels that somebody had dragged out that said OPEN. The sun was starting to go down. I walked in.

The shitbox stopped me where I stood. The interior was done up in eastern grain cabinets and fancy tiling– fashionable chairs were all about the room. Nobody was around.

I sat down at a desk for awhile, then opened the top drawer. There were a bunch of business cards in a rubber band. “GARY LIVINGSTON- THE AUXILIARY,” they said with a phone number printed below. I picked up a gold nameplate. “GARY LIVINGSTON- THE AUXILIARY”– the same. I couldn’t figure on any of it but the guy had a bottle in the bottom drawer. I got lit as the last bit of light faded over the mountains.$_57

When I woke up it was morning. There was a secretary with bobbed hair banging it out on a damn typewriter.

“Where’s the Auxiliary?” I asked.

She looked up. “The Auxiliary is very busy today. He’s hanging some wall-size art all day.”

“Yeah? What the hell kind of business is that?”

She seemed confused. “It’s a…craggy shore. Some hanging grapes come complimentary. There’s a big watch too that’s a clock.”

She got up to change the paper. I took a good long look at the tail.

“Why not skip all that, come out and have a hamburger?” I offered. I had just cashed my government relief check– eighteen bucks, I felt flush.

“But…the Auxiliary.”

“Just put a god damn sign up. Nobody gives a damn. Tell me who gives a damn.”

She couldn’t tell me.

We ended up at a counter down the road. Some yahoo with a paper hat was cursing loudly at the grill. Bobbed hair asked me my name and seemed disappointed when I told her.

“Not really a strong name,” she said. “When I hear that name, I think of somebody who spends a lot of time riding buses and sleeping on tables.” It was pretty damn good archery, I had to give it to her.

We ate our lunch in silence. Occasionally, the grillman would start up cursing again. He was pretty vile. Bobbed hair didn’t seem bothered by him though so I let it ride. When I asked for the check, he waved us off. I couldn’t figure on none of it.

We walked back towards the shitbox. There wasn’t nobody around.

“I won’t fuck you,” she said suddenly. A weird breeze started up–it seemed to be coming down from the hills. Brush blew everywhere, all to hell.

“I won’t fuck you,” she said again. “But thank you for the lunch. As great a man as the Auxiliary is, he has never bought me lunch.”

I didn’t know what the hell to say. She disappeared inside.

I didn’t follow her.

Categories: Funny Stories by Dick Oakes Tags: , , ,