The Five Mistakes You Made at the Epic Poetry Recital Contest

April 9, 2015 Leave a comment
By Pa-hinn Cruikshank

By Pa-hinn Cruikshank

Lankville’s epic poetry recital scene is, well, epic. Ever since Ulf Egilsson emigrated from a foreign place to the Lankville Partial Icy Regions many generations ago, carrying his father on his back along with household gods and the songs, poems, and dirges of his homeland in his heart, Lankville has prided itself on maintaining the tradition: The tradition of epic poetry recitals that last eight days and usually end with several deaths and a new “Scop König” (poet-king) being crowned. But entering the recital contest is not for the feint of heart; we have compiled these common rookie mistakes to help you survive with your head intact and your sagas successfully sung. Herewith, the mistakes you made:

1) You decided to recite the challenging “Lankvillüngen Cycle.” With its complex contrapuntal rhythms, its erotic theme of incestuous bestiality, and its famous “middle section” composed of nothing but Old Lank-vowel sounds spat out in a syncopated staccato, the Cycle is a popular recital choice. But it requires a good deal of fortitude – not to mention a practiced tongue and, often, a cleft palate, to perform just right.

Don't wear one of these to your epic poetry recital

Don’t wear one of these to your epic poetry recital

2) You tried to do a “call and response” thing. Another common pitfall for neophyte recitalists: attempting to rouse an audience sedated by hours of grog, mead, and mutton to follow along and shout back alliterative lines of epic verse. Good luck with that – and get ready to duck, as the “response” is likely to be a half-eaten turkey leg hurled with great gusto from the back row of the hall!

3) You laughed during Rocky Dalrimple’s recital. This didn’t seem like a mistake at the time; after all, Rocky’s epic poetry is unquestionably hilarious, full of uncanny doppelgängers, unexpected scenes of exploding eyeballs and gullets, and sexually active septuagenarians. The problem is that it’s all true. Every last word is something that Rocky (or his illustrious but star-crossed family) personally experienced. Laugh about the Dalrimples’ misadventures in the privacy of your own home – but never, ever let a guffaw escape during the epic poetry recital contest.

Don't wear one of these to your epic poetry recital either

Don’t wear one of these to your epic poetry recital either

4) You used props. Newsflash: No one has been able to pull off the “scarab-encrusted horned helmet” look since at least Snorri Egilsson, great-grandson of Ulf and master epic poet. And while you thought it was clever to bring along that cross-section from the Old Pondicherry Square Oak, representing the ephemeral life of man and the ever-expanding ripples of the universe, the subtlety of the metaphor was a bit lost on the boys in the back row. Perhaps you decided to “go big,” and actually dig up the head of Uncle Billy to illustrate the gruesome conclusion of the “Bönkersaga,” that familiar Lankville favorite. Still a bad move – you never want your prop to overshadow your poem.

5) You went home with some epic poetry groupies. Congratulations! You survived your first epic poetry recital contest, and while you weren’t crowned Scop König, you endured the endless toasts and challenges and blood sacrifices and emerged with your dignity intact. Until those strapping ladies who hang on every syllable, with long golden tresses and names like Hilgar and Ůnferth and Wealhtheow, took you aside and flattered your recitation of the Lankvellir-round, with the result that instead of reporting dutifully at your job in the Office of Financial Interests at Southern Lankville University, you found yourself waxed to the gills and going on “raids” up and down the Partial Icy Regions coastline.

And yet – like almost any new initiate in the ways of the Lankville epic poetry recital contest: you’ve made it! The hard part is over, and next year you can come back better than ever, thanks to experience and lessons learned.

Categories: Lankville Daily News Tags: , ,

Area Jackass Has, Like, Fucking Trash in His Front Yard

April 1, 2015 Leave a comment
By Zach Keebaugh

By Zach Keebaugh

STORIES THAT AFFECT YOU

CENTRAL LANKVILLE– An area jackass has nothing but, like, fucking trash in his front yard.

The jackass, who has been identified as Mr. Coven Slides, a Tungsten Inert Gas Welder, had little to say about the fucking trash when challenged.

ZK:  What’s with the fucking trash, old man?

CS:  The wood was all part of a shed that was in the backyard. It was in the backyard for years and then it wasn’t. Then, it was in the front yard and it was broken up like that. That’s also when that big cart was there.

Would you just look at the fucking trash that this area jackass has?

Would you just look at the fucking trash that this area jackass has?

ZK:  The Lankville Daily News is not buying that shit explanation, man.

Mr. Slides just shrugged his shoulders and walked away. Later, we saw him inside the big shitty cart.

Calls to the Central Lankville Sanitation Department were answered.

“We know about Mr. Slides,” noted Sanitation Director Rudy Sakata. “His yard does have a lot of trash in it. But in that photo you faxed over, one can clearly see a blue trash can. We took that to mean that Mr. Slides is taking care of the issue.”

“The old man is all, like, acting like he doesn’t know how the trash got there,” I said. “It’s a big mind game if you want my opinion,” I countered.

“Well, there’s that wood cart there. And the cart is full. Clearly, some things are happening,” said Sakata.

My toaster pizzas were done then so, you know, I cut the interview short.

Mr. Keebaugh’s story also suddenly ended. 

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

Run To The Hills- My Adventures In The Hill Country Of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville PART ONE

April 1, 2015 Leave a comment
Brian Schropp on Cuisine

Brian Schropp on Cuisine

I was up to my elbows in dishwater all the time now. Business had picked up at the “Pizza-A-Round” and my “cleaning team” was struggling to keep up. The added pressure of trying to answer the phones since Martha was now gone (please see my thrilling “To Catch A Thief” articles) didn’t help.

“BRIAN!!” Scott screamed from the prep line, hands deep in the dough of a “meat buster” calzone during a mid-afternoon rush. “These containers are filthy!!”

I looked over to my crew, Oscar and Omar. “Clean-clean!!” I yelled at them holding up a plastic container lid I was soaking in my “manager sink”. The scowls and curses (I think they were cursing I am not fluent in Soutwestern Lankvillian) I received back told me they understood.

​Oscar and Omar- my "cleaning team"

​Oscar and Omar- my “cleaning team”

A little while later Scott came storming back waving an earlier phone order in my face. “All these orders you took are messed up, either the damn address was not correct or you goofed up the order!! Do you know how much money this cost me?!! The laundry bill for the drivers to have their outfits cleaned from the angry customers who threw the food back at them in disgust will be in the hundreds alone!” He paused to calm down but couldn’t catch his breath when he saw the dishes. “Are you clowns even using hot water?! How many freakin’ times do we need to go over this?!!”

I lifted the plastic lid I was still scrubbing away at to the boys. “Hot water-hot water! Clean-clean!!” Then I banged the lid twice on the rim of my “manager sink” to drive home the point. I hoped using some of my “managerial muscle” would calm my boss down and get him off my back. Unfortunately he looked over by the emergency door.

His “Scott look” went into full overdrive. “WHAT THE HELL—-WHY HASN’T THE TRASH BEEN TAKEN OUT?!!!!”

The firing of another employee– Danny “Elf Boy” Finlay (again folks see my last two exciting articles) left the slot of trash duties open. With no one picking up the slack a week’s worth of trash collected into a disgusting mess. Well “the shit hit the pizza fan” so to speak (please pardon the obscenity, Mom) and my team was put in charge of trash detail. I tried my best in simple English and broken Southwestern Lankvillian to instruct Oscar and Omar to help me. They either didn’t seem to understand or want to help. So my next few hours were spent pulling apart sticky trash bags and taking the stinky, pungent bags to the dumpster.

Our dumpsters are located behind the strip mall we are in with a wooded area behind that. Yes it was a big task but I soon got into the “Bri Zone” in which I tune out the world and get lost in my thoughts. A few times I thought I heard some rustling in the woods but I put it out of my mind. At worst it was probably just some super squirrels and if they became a problem I would just go back inside and get one of Scott’s many handguns.

​The man by the dumpsters

​The man by the dumpsters

It wasn’t until I was nearing the end of my trash run that the source of the rustling noise became clear. When I was coming back with the final two bags there was a guy in front of them wearing a caveman like outfit and holding a spear. I was closer to him than our emergency door so I stood still– afraid that any movement might set him off. After a few moments I decided to break the ice.

“Are you here to pick up a order? You will need to go around front.”

He took a moment and then pointed his spear at me. “You-Great Bumpkin–you-come with me.”

“Wait a sec, are you homeless? If so, you better scram before Scott finds you out here.” Then it clicked. “You’re a hill person!! I can’t believe I’m seeing one in the flesh.” How could this be? I have never heard of any hill people willingly coming into the modern Deep Northern Suburban area. Was he lost? Like some sort of rabid racoon wandering far from home? Before I could inquire further I noticed another one dressed in the same cave rags out of the corner of my eye. This one was very quick and before I had time to even react I was knocked out by his spear.

As in typical form when I am knocked out (which seems to happen a great deal to me) I heard the sweet choruses of bumpkins and I fell into a blinding white light–

When I awoke I was far inside the Hill Country of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville. I recognized the area instantly from the text books of my high school days and travel brochures I saw as a kid (there used to be travel tours of this area which stopped a number of years ago when too many tourists were being attacked.) My arms and legs were tied to a giant stick that was being carried by the two who knocked me out. I hung upside down like a hog going to the “Lankville Pork Fest” for slaughter. I was also gagged and they wouldn’t respond to my muffled request for some water or some type of light snack (I was getting hungry because I had missed lunch break). They carried my mass up a steep hillside and to a clearing where a group of other hill people were waiting. Not one looked too pleasant.

​A picture of some of the beautiful yet deadly Hillside Country

​A picture of some of the beautiful yet deadly Hillside Country

I was dropped rather roughly in front of this group. The one who was clearly the leader of the tribe came forward and cut the bonds off my arms and legs and then took the gag out of my mouth. This man vaguely reminded me of someone but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. He stood me up and took a good look at me. He nodded to the two who had brought me. “Yes this is him. You have done well, the Great Addanc will be pleased.” Two others from the group snatched an arm and started to drag me off. The leader walked beside us.

“Don’t worry chubby one this will be over for you soon. Your powers of wielding mighty breakfast sandwiches can not hurt us because the Great Addanc protects our tribe. Once we give you to him he will give us great powers and make us strong!! Then we, Tribe Cameron will rule the Hill Country!!”

I realized to my horror who this tribe leader reminded me of– Hank Cameron, my mortal enemy and manager of Foodville. These were his distant hillside cousins and they were taking me to some sort of danger I knew nothing about!!

Please keep an eye out for Pt.2 where things even take a stranger turn!! Until then please keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas!!

BRI

Categories: Cuisine by Brian Schropp Tags: , , ,

Rare Plants in a Fragile Ecosystem

March 31, 2015 1 comment
Sarah Samways, Contributing Female

Sarah Samways, Contributing Female

I sat down with horticulturist extraordinaire, Sally Bolting, as she explained to me the ways in which to care for rare plants in a fragile ecosystem. Lankville, although most notably attributed with having vast and shiny malls, also contains sprawling gardens and intricately designed shrubs. I promise they’re there, right behind the malls and to the left. Yes, those.

Sally Bolting

Sally Bolting

BOLTING: The key to every garden is patience, persistence, and potting soil. I call ‘em the three Ps…

SAMWAYS: Is there a particular brand of potting soil that you would suggest to our readers?

SB: (long pause) It’s dirt. You’re missing the point, here. Now, shut up and listen. You see these bright, yellow Fidgetywhatsits? These crimson Welldontchaknows? They need sustenance every three hours; water and sunlight on their leaves is necessary on a consistent basis.

SS: Really? That seems like overkill.

SB: In order to maintain their lovely hues and prevent their buds from maturing, you’ve really gotta be on top of them. It sounds strange but once their buds bloom, they die.

SS: Isn’t that logic backward, somehow?

A garden in the woods behind the mall.

A garden in the woods behind the mall.

SB: Well, what with the Lankville smog and all, the process of photosynthesis in Lankvillian plants is completely different than the norm. That’s what makes these things so fantastic and rare.

SS: Ah, I see. What are these big purple ones? It appears as if you’ve sprayed them with glitter…

SB: Funnily enough, I didn’t. These are called Velvet Violences and they’re quite the show-stopper in any garden and that glitter effect you see is actually a defense mechanism against predatory insects that may try to feed upon it.

SS: Wow! How does that work?

SB: The details on how this process really works is still being studied in labs but basically, these flowers excrete this odorless, goo-like substance, or glitter, if you will, all over their petals whenever a insect tries to feed.

SS: Oh, so it’s a attract and repel type of thing?

SB: In layman’s terms, I suppose. They’re completely harmless otherwise. Basic hydration and general culling techniques are best for these, they make for a pretty hardy plant throughout the year.

SS: Spring has truly sprung! Now what are all these wonderful vines that surround us? They’re absolutely stunning and correct me if I’m wrong, but are we walking through a patch of ivy?

SB: You are wrong and we are not and don’t touch any of it. It’s all poisonous, touch it and prepare to die.

Silently, we then walked out of the tunnel of unidentified poisons. I attempted to rehash our interview by pointing out different plants along the way but was unsuccessful. Sally Bolting sure is one tough old broad.

Categories: Sarah Samways: Contributing Female Tags: , ,

This is Me, Getting Into My Van

March 31, 2015 1 comment

billyIMPORTANT MOMENTS IN LANKVILLE LIFE

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking- okay, it’s a picture of a bald guy getting into a van. Pretty ordinary. Kind of thing you see everyday in Lankville.

Well, what if I told you that guy is me?

You’re reading a little closer now, aren’t you?

Let me tell you a little more about this photograph.

I had stopped for lunch at a gas station on the summit of a mountain. I live on the mountain but not quite on the summit, see. I live a little further down but not at all far from the summit understand– just a quick five-minute drive. The thing about the summit is– you gotta’ have some money to live up there– what with that view and everything. Most of the people that live up there– they got these above ground pools in their yards. Yeah, that’s the kind of green we’re talking about.

They got a little gas station with a bistro attached and a couple of umbrellas thrown out for effect. They also got a hobby shop nearby, a place where you can buy those little wrapped trees for your porch and a Dollar Bush. So, again, you get the picture of the kind of place the summit is.

Anyways, I had just finished off a quarter pounder roast chuck sandwich with fries. They cut the fries into little animal shapes– makes me laugh. I’m coming out to the old girl– she’s a ’97 Neptune Argosy (big enough to camp in, I’ve done it) and a guy standing over by the pumps says, “Hey, you, the squat sort of person over there– do you want your picture taken being as how you’re on the summit of the mountain?” Hell, I’m not going to lie– I thought it was a little weird. But then I kind of came around to the idea– after all, I was on the summit. And I couldn’t think of any photos of myself with the old Neptune (except the thousands I took when I first bought her). Thought it could be something I could share with the grandchildren even though I’m going to be dead before I have any grandchildren because I’m 47 and divorced and childless and have no prospects at all because I don’t live on the summit but rather deep in the woods just on one side of the mountain but whatever, a guy can dream can’t he?

Well, this guy asks for my phone number and tries to send me the photograph. But on account of us being on the summit of a mountain, we can’t get any kind of signal and the guy says, “Hey, listen, when I get down off the summit, I’ll send this to you.” Well, I thought that was a heck of an idea so I says, “Yeah sure, do that, would you?” And he looks at me for a long time and then he says, “You bet I will.” And you know what? I could tell he meant it.

And he did. Because, sure enough, the next time I left the mountain (about two months later), there it was– popped right up on my flip-top.

And now, I can share it with you Lankville.

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

Pizza Cabin Launches Cookie Pizza!

March 26, 2015 Leave a comment
By Bernie Keebler

By Bernie Keebler

MEANINGFUL BUSINESS NEWS

Pizza Cabin today is rolling out a 12-inch chocolate chip cookie that will be sliced like a pizza – and delivered like one, if you like.

The cookie, officially dubbed the “Ultimate Chocolate Chip Cookie that Resembles a Pizza” is part of a partnership with Royer Chocolates. It will be $7.99 with a pizza, or $8.99 separately. The cookie is available for dine-in, pick-up, air-drop, or delivery at any one of Pizza Cabin’s 87 Lankville locations.

The

The new Ultimate Chocolate Chip Cookie that Resembles a Pizza from Pizza Cabin.

“Everyone at Pizza Cabin is ecstatic,” said Carney Mounted, chief marketing officer. “Our fans are in for an amazing, mind-blowing experience.”

“This isn’t your everyday cookie,” Mounted continued, her alabaster skin aglow with delight as she held up one of the pizza cookies to the assembled journalists. “Look at it!” she demanded. “LOOK AT IT!” she screamed. Tension crept into the room. Mounted grew hysterical. “IT’S A COOKIE THAT LOOKS LIKE A PIZZA!” she reiterated. “HOW IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS DECENT CAN YOU CONTINUE WITHOUT EATING THIS???”

It grew darker.

The pizza cookie is an addition to Pizza Cabin’s other offering, the Ovoid Dunkers, small balls of pizza dough topped with a touch of dark chocolate and sprinkles.

“DID YOU ALL GRASP THIS?” Mounted suddenly screamed, still holding up the pizza cookie. “I NEED TO KNOW THAT YOU HAVE GRASPED THIS?”

The executive was suddenly led away by some handlers.

To highlight the cookie’s launch, Pizza Cabin will host a “bake dump” offering the cookies, with 10 percent of proceeds going to various charities.

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

He Said / She Said: Decoding Lankville’s Dating Lingo

March 25, 2015 1 comment
By Ida Rumpus

By Ida Rumpus

You’re on a hot date on a Saturday night in Lankville’s swingingest scene: perhaps a quick slice at “Pizza-A-Round” followed by a movie at old Pondicherry Theater, maybe a stroll in The Woods if the conversation’s really engrossing. Things are getting intense and you suggest catching the last Subway train home, or perhaps you’re better off hailing a cab. That’s when your date turns to you and says…

Wait – what’s that? A series of words has just come out of your date’s mouth, you listened with a grin on your face and nodded idiotically, but did you really understand what was said? Luckily, the Lankville News has enlisted the aid of Men’s Feelings Expert Kevin Thurston and psychologist Winifred P. Temple to help you parse these common dating lines.

He said: “I had a really good time… I’m just not sure I’m ready to dig this tunnel with you.”

What it means: Scrape the peanut butter off your nether regions and take your arm out of that fake sling. And save the tunnel-digging until after the third date, at least.

How you feel about this closing elevator could determine the fate of your romantic life

How you feel about this closing elevator could determine the fate of your romantic life

She said: “I like the way your face remains cool, aloof, and expressionless as you regard me across the room.”

What it means: This person is confident enough to endure your disapproving gaze and the many hours of silence you’ll spend together, assuming things work out. Could be a keeper!

He said: “I was glad you quoted (famous Lankville philosopher) Nitzwald earlier, but your pronunciation was a little off.”

What it means: A classic mixed message! Rather than spend hours in front of a mirror practicing your speech, you might make better use of that time carefully basting a succulent boar’s head.

She said: “Please write to me – but only through coded messages sent by carrier pigeon. And don’t expect a response.”

What it means: You’ve got a real mystery on your hands. This is a person who enjoys the thrill of the chase and wants to see how you deal with challenges and “delayed gratification.” If you can be patient and “crack the code,” there’s no telling where this might lead!

He said: “So, have you sent any funny messages on LankLove.com lately?”

What it means: Try not to hyperventilate or show any signs of stress as you think about the fake profiles you’ve set up on the LankLove dating site to “mess with your exes.” This question is actually a signal that your date is ready for some shared tales of romantic hijinks and revenge plots gone awry. Take a deep breath, be honest, and dive right in!

She said: “Are you the type of person who rushes onto an elevator, or do you, like, take your time?”

What it means: There is no wrong answer to this question. Unfortunately, there’s no right answer, either. Getting onto an elevator too quickly can be a sign of insecurity that dates back to childhood issues with uncles and cousins, and anxieties about being locked out of your favorite shed. Sauntering slowly onto an elevator can signal that you don’t understand the basic principle of Archimedes’ screw, not to mention social niceties. It may be time to push the “going down” button on this particular date.

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

Barlow Foods Reorganizing Several Stores

March 24, 2015 Leave a comment
By Mrs. Larry Temple

By Mrs. Larry Temple

LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!

Ever hear of rebooting a grocery store?

Barlow Foods is in the middle of a “reset” at several of its stores, including locations in the Lankville Capital, the Deep Eastern Suburbs, and the Outlands.

“Each store is making carefully moderated changes to the general merchandise departments,” said founder and CEO John Barlow. “Some are perhaps noticeable to the observant customer. Others are small changes that customers won’t even notice.”

Barlow Foods CEO John Barlow.

Barlow Foods CEO John Barlow.

“The bulk foods section at each store is relocating to where the Bounteous Garden Wonderland organic section was,” noted Barlow, who was interviewed in his downtown office suite. “The Bounteous Garden Wonderland organic section, which is expanding, will move to where the Holiday Card Shop was. The Holiday Card Shop will now be found behind the lockers and the Limited Soft Shoe department, where kitchen tools are currently sold.”

Barlow produced a complicated flip chart and scanned quickly through several pages.

“We already have a large inventory of organic and gluten-free products and, very soon, customers will have even more to choose from in the Bounteous Garden Wonderland which will be expanding a few aisles into the Cake, Pastry, and Filled Doughnut Department but not effecting the revolving Juice Jenny or the Cheese Wagons,” Barlow said.

The changes are being made to accommodate the product offerings added to the Bounteous Garden Wonderland section as well as an increase in the offering of Elephantine Family Bundle items – products sold in large quantities at a quantity discount.

When asked if the changes were a response to customer requests, Barlow demurred.

“Acknowledging customer requests means acknowledging a state of lawlessness. These changes are so because I have said they will be so.”

Barlow Foods has already completed the process at other stores in the Western Lankville market. The current resets should be finished by April 15th.

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

Musings of a Decorative Ham Man

March 24, 2015 Leave a comment
By Chris Vitiello

By Chris Vitiello

The Vitiello name that graces the packaging of every decorative ham is an ancient one.

I have traced the Vitiello’s with ease back to the famed reign of Pirrapods. Many were chandlers, house men, makers of some boats. And before that, they were to be found living on the island of La Hardy, where they flourished as builders of great but senseless stone walls.

During the Lankvillian Restoration, there was Adolphus Vitiello, a respected cleric. But the name devolved after Adolphus and generation after generation produced nothing but halfwits, teethless men and the very short. And these inferiors, in turn, married other inferiors and the pool became murky and darkness descended over the name for over three hundred years.

The past century produced my great-grandfather, Randy, a drunken repairer of sashes. It is said that he was last seen vomiting into his own hat while pushing an island prostitute into a rented hut. My grandfather, known affectionately as “The Elk” but also sometimes as “Excrement”, disappeared into a small hole. And my father. You know already about him.

These men of the past century married equally despicable women. They were of no consequence and should have been whipped mercilessly.

But now the name is enjoying a rebirth. It is to be seen on millions of decorative hams all over Lankville.

And this is the sign of greatness.

Categories: Musings of a Decorative Ham Man Tags: , , ,

Ric Royer from the Depths of His Heart

March 24, 2015 Leave a comment
By Ric Royer

By Ric Royer

The Lankville Daily News is proud to present a new series by enigmatic Lankville businessman Ric Royer.

The depths of my heart are a pure place to go.

I used to think it was a place of intense confusion, horror, and lewdness and also where the past lived, but I’ve come to find that it’s really a place of deep purity, like beautiful bouncing white soap bubbles caroming gently off a bare wall and onto a lover in a towel. Some people have said that these emotions are intense and for some reason I have experienced some sort of negativity in this world. Maybe it’s the way I am taking it? Maybe it’s the way that I interpret our world? Maybe it’s because there are heart simulacra everywhere and the true heart is no longer recognizable. You know how they have those little candies?

 Nevertheless, I am starting to find that this emotional intensity about life is actually simplicity itself. And therefore, I intend to get more and more emotionally intense. It will be as though there is a knob and I shall turn this knob higher everyday and all days through the rest of my life. If you want to lunch with me– say, for example, in a run-down restaurant with a hubcap attached to the desk and no exterior signage, you should expect long periods of emotional intensity. You may not even get to eat. Emotional intensity can sometimes manifest itself on tables and a full surface clearance is not out of the question. But that is purity.

In doing so, I shall link into the purity of these emotions that I have never fully experienced before.

Maybe that is life right there – fully experiencing emotions.

The depths of your heart can be a place where you go to understand the intricacies, mysteries, horrors, and sexual irregularities of this life. Those little candies are a poor substitute. Although, they are very good. I eat several hundred a day.

There are so many things that we do not understand about our world simply because we cannot see them. Sometimes, you must trust they are there. You have to be willing to put your feet forward while throwing out intense emotions everywhere all over everything before walking into a dense fog. Will it be scary? Absolutely. Will it be worth it? Oh absolutely.

Purity. Probity. Fogs.

Time and time again you must travel into the depths of your heart to find yourself. Only then, will you begin to function in a way that is truly connected and present with the world.

If you can do that, there’s no cork in the bottle of what your life can become.

Categories: Royer's Madcap Experiences Tags: , , ,

To Catch a Thief, Part Two: Brian Schropp on Cuisine

March 24, 2015 Leave a comment
Brian Schropp on Cuisine

Brian Schropp on Cuisine

So the bust was set up and ready to go. I had six delicious large pepperoni sticks (from the SECOND pepperoni freezer) tucked in a duffel bag to hand over to Munny Joseph, “Big ” Eddie Jones, and Danny “Elf Boy” Finlay. Scott informed me that if the pepperoni sticks were damaged in any way it would come out of my paycheck (just like the other things I “stole” to gain the trust of these pizza thugs). I told Scott this could possibly add up to me owing him money.

“Guess you will have to work on your days off to make up for it, that’s life Bri,” Scott said harshly. “Now, lift up your shirt.” We were in his office a few hours before the bust was scheduled to happen.

“But-but why?” I was always uncomfortable being undressed in front of the human species.

Scott pulled out an old style micro recorder and some duct tape. “Going to wrap this around you and record the whole conversation in case there is any question from Detective Gee-Temple afterwards.”

“You said you would be acting rightfully under Lankville law after I handed over the pepperoni?”

“Maybe-maybe,” Scott replied. “I sorta looked over some stuff at the courthouse and I’m still not really sure. I have a hard time focusing on words written in paragraphs. No one is going to blame to me though, this is choice pepperoni!!”

From L to R- "Big" Eddie Jones, Munny Joseph, Danny "Elf Boy" Finlay

From L to R- “Big” Eddie Jones, Munny Joseph, Danny “Elf Boy” Finlay

I raised my arms while he taped the recorder around me. Not only was I going to be walking into a potentially dangerous situation I had no business being in, but now this tape was going to really really hurt when it was time for it to come off.

After squeezing back into my “Pizza-A-Round” shirt, I thought you could clearly see the micro recorder sticking out from my side.

“Just say you have a tumor, you gotta remember these three guys are really dumb even by pizza business standards.”

We went over the game plan yet again. I was supposed to meet Danny “Elf Boy” Finlay at his sleeping hole at 6:10. I had to hold off actually handing over the goods until all three were there. Scott didn’t want any of them getting away and not feeling his wrath. What was I supposed to say if I had to stall for time? Scott recommended things like small girl motel wrestling, glue sniffing, the Lankville drag racing scene, making out with girls. Stuff I knew NOTHING about!! (OK folks you did catch me in a minor lie, I am a fan of small girl motel wrestling). Scott said I was over-thinking the situation and told me not to worry.

“You wanna’ carry a piece with you, Bri?” he asked, as he removed a metal briefcase from beneath his desk.

I patently refused.

​The micro-recorder Scott savagely wrapped around me.

​The micro-recorder Scott savagely wrapped around me.

I left by the office “secret door” (which is just a slightly larger but very dirty air duct) and had nothing but worry on my mind. The few hours passed quickly and I was soon walking down some of the worst streets in Deep Southwestern Suburban Lankville towards Finlay’s sleeping hole. The only thing that made me feel safe was knowing Scott was in his car not too far behind with a full arsenal of weapons. Finlay’s address was hard to locate since the numbers on these “houses” were hard to read. Thinking I had finally found the correct place, I knocked on the rotten piece of wood which may have been a door and after a few deep breaths went inside. The interior was dark, it was evening and the idea of somebody actually paying for electricity for this dump seemed like a joke.

“Hello-hello?” I mumbled while stumbling around what I hoped was furniture and not bodies.

“Back here.” I could always recognize the nasally whine of Danny “Elf Boy” Finlay. I felt my way along a wall until I made my way into a “kitchen area” where Finlay sat at a table. The grey light of the evening was coming through an open (there was no glass) window.

He smiled his elvish smile while picking up a dirty beer bottle off the table and taking a swig. “Bring the goods?”

I nodded- lifting up the bag.

“Hand it over and let me see. I can tell by smelling the sticks if it’s from the second pepperoni freezer or not.” He somehow seemed impressed by this skill.

Danny "Elf Boy" Finlay's sleeping hole.

Danny “Elf Boy” Finlay’s sleeping hole.

I remembered what Scott said about stalling until the others were there so I tried my best. “So say Danny, have you ever- you know- had -like-relations with a woman-I mean a girl-I mean a honey? I-I have- don’t get me wrong–it’s just nice you know-laying down together–having a nice talk, stroking each other’s hair—what are your thoughts?” I think I did an okay job.

He took a slow swig from his dirty beer bottle. “Stalling for time Schropp? Was that part of the plan you and Scott came up with?”

Before I even had time to answer the back door was kicked open and in came “Big” Eddie Jones and Munny Joseph with Scott. They had Scott by one of his arms– I hadn’t seen such a shocked expression on my manager’s face before. “I’m sorry Bri, don’t know how they found out?!”

The three pizza thugs laughed. “You think we are idiots, Scott?” Munny said scowling at his manager. “But you’re the one who is the real clown. You think it’s been just us three in on this operation and it’s just pepperoni that’s being taken? Well there’s a fourth member, the real mastermind, who is giving us the low down on what to steal and when.”

Scott got the “Scott look” on his face. “Who?”

Eddie chuckled in his goofy voice. “Martha, the head phone lady! She even heard you guys planning this afternoon and gave us the heads up.”

It was my turn to be shocked. Martha the sassy but sweet lady who did her best to teach me the phones and was always smacking my butt. All the special times I had with her in my short time there, not only the yelling and screaming when I took a wrong order (which was a lot) but the laughs, the tender talks, the sometimes soft cuddling in the back of her car. How could she do this?!!

Picture of my manager Scott relaxing at home.

Picture of my manager Scott relaxing at home.

Scott wasted no time pulling away from the grips of Eddie and Munny and then punching their lights out with just one blow each! Danny’s elven like reflexes acted quickly and he flew up from the table and crawled under an area by the nearby rusted sink. Scott took a gun out from his waistband and quickly walked over and fired a few shots under the sink. He turned around and shook his head. “I think there is a whole tunnel system under the house, damn that kid is fast.”

I asked him what he was going to do with the two others. “I couldn’t give a damn about them right now Bri,” he said while reloading his gun. “There is only one person who is going to face my rage full force and she is working the closing shift right now!!”

If it was anybody else I wouldn’t of cared, but I placed a hand on Scott’s arm. “I know what she has done is inexcusable but please let me talk to her. I promise you will never see her again.”

Scott looked at me with full rage, I thought I was next for a punch. Then his look softened a little. “Alright you have until I figure out what to do with these two chumps over there. Once that’s done I’m heading back to the “Pizza-A-Round” and if she is there I swear to you Bri it’s not going to be a pretty sight.”

I didn’t have very much time and the shop was some distance away. I dropped the duffel bag of pepperoni sticks so it wouldn’t weigh me down and ran as fast as I could. By the time I got there I was in a slow jog and I was a sweaty mess. The phones were ringing off the hook since it was the late evening pizza rush. Martha made her usual fuss when I said I needed to speak with her but she could see by the look in my eyes that it was serious. I gently took her by the hand and led her out into the parking lot. I told Martha how the events of the evening unfolded and how the others ratted her out.

Martha, the real mastermind

Martha, the real mastermind

“You have to let me explain, I never meant for it to go this far. I needed extra money and—”

I put my hand up to her lips. “You don’t have time to explain, Scott will be on his way soon. You need to go and never show your face here again.”

“I never meant to hurt–”

“Me? You have. Not just because you put me in harm’s way of those pizza thugs but because you are not the woman I thought you were. The woman who found a warm place in my half-human half-bumpkin heart.”

“Can I–”

“Slap my butt one more time? No, we are beyond that.”

“Where am I supposed to go?”

“Don’t worry, there are thousands of pizza places in Lankville. I would suggest somewhere over the border into Southern Lankville. It will be rough going but you will make it. When you get your act cleaned up I only ask that you think of me fondly every once in awhile.” I wiped a small tear from her eye.

In the last rays of the evening light Martha walked out of the “Pizza-A-Round” parking lot with her head slumped down. Yes dear readers the pizza trade is a hard hard business indeed.

BRI

Categories: Cuisine by Brian Schropp Tags: , , ,

President Pondicherry on Why We Won’t Be Picking Your Garbage Up Anymore

March 23, 2015 Leave a comment
President Pondicherry

President Pondicherry

We have a place, all of us, in a long story—a story we continue, but whose conclusion we will not see. It is the story of a new Lankville that became a friend and liberator of ancient kingdoms and a servant of freedom. It is the story of a Lankville that once possessed slaves but now only occasionally possesses slaves. It is the story of a Lankville that protects but does not possess, that deflects but does not conquer and has beautiful, beautiful malls– the envy of all the world.

It is a Lankvillian story— I want you to join me in celebrating it. Our faith in freedom is a rock in a raging sea and a seed upon the wind. I want you to tell me about that seed– how it blows to you. Write me about the seed. Can you feel it when you walk in the woods? Can you taste it? I’m told that you should be able to. Write me about it– write me about it now. You know that I can’t wait to get your letters– I want them so bad.

Every day, we affirm a new commitment to live out our nation’s promise through civility, courage, shopping, and character. Lankville, at its best, matches our commitment to ethics with a concern for civility. Our concern for civility is like a great bird that goes around to different tall trees. It is majestic, glorious and strong. There will be a banner showing the bird. You can come and see it. I want you to.

Unfortunately, however, as of this coming Tuesday, there will no longer be any trash pickup in Lankville.

God Bless You and God Bless Lankville,
President Pondicherry

Categories: Presidential Addresses Tags: , , ,

Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.

March 23, 2015 Leave a comment
Dick Oakes, Jr.

Dick Oakes, Jr.

It was a windowless, ill-lit room. I sat there for awhile. You could hear the rain on the roof.

After awhile, a big guy came in. He huffed it to the other side of the table and sat staring at me.

“This idn’t any of my business,” he said. “I’m just here to make sure you get some papers. We got charts, you know. Pie, flow, horizontal stacked bar, scatter, triangle. You name it, we got it.”  He tapped a folder and then stared at his hands.

“Nobody’s going to god damn catch me unawares,” he whispered.

I couldn’t figure on any of it.

A woman came in. She was a big girl, selling it pretty well up front but the back was shot to hell. When she sat down opposite me, her chair squeaked resentfully.

She talked me through it and I nodded along idiotically. I could barely pay attention. Buck up Oakes I kept saying to myself. You wanna’ be a charity case all your life? It didn’t matter none though.

When it was all over, she said, “I’ll give you a tour.”

We stood up.

“What about the papers? I got my charts to do,” the big guy said.

“Later.”

I followed the woman out. The big guy had taken a chair and slammed it down on the table. You could hear pieces of it flying all over the place. Nobody seemed to give a damn though.50

We came to a big open office with no windows. Boxes of garbage crammed into the corners. The floor was covered in scratched and streaked tiles. Bunch of grey-skinned middle-aged women wearing men’s clothing sitting in cubicles. There was something chilling about it. I couldn’t piece it together none.

We approached a closet with a battered steel door.

“And this is our kitchen,” my tour guide noted. “The microwave doesn’t work. We put in for one months ago but…” She trailed off.

She saw me staring at the blood that faintly stained one wall.

“Yes, someone killed themselves in here. We should…probably paint…”  She trailed off again.

Two days later I was entering senseless data into a computer.

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

OPINION: It is an Injustice that My Novels Have Not Garnered a Wider Audience

March 20, 2015 1 comment
By Cust Shirley, Novelist

By Cust Shirley, Novelist

IMPORTANT OPINIONS

I began writing 25 years ago.

In that time, I have produced 16 novels, countless short stories and several chapbooks of humorous poetry. I have penned essays, critical reviews, travel accounts and even a novella written entirely in rhymed couplets. And if you think that’s easy to do, my friend, then I invite you to try it. Hell, you can even use my desk and sleep in my guest room if you want to give it a shot.

But despite all this work, I bet you haven’t heard of me, right? Why?

Because of a grave injustice. Let me explain.

My first novel The Shed Out Back was a realistic story of a love-hungry girl in the Lankville scrublands. I actually spent several months in the scrublands just so I could get the feel of the place. It paid off. I ended up with what I thought was a masterpiece. Here’s a sample:

In the end, Gretchen was a one-man woman– a woman who could give only one man the full passion of her being– the wild, unheeding surrender of a scrubland animal. Cliff may have been the wrong man– he probably was the wrong man but it didn’t matter. Because scrubland trash loves it that way.

If you can’t get excited by the power of the written word over that paragraph, then we better start checking your pulse.

Anyway, the novel gets printed and comes out in some selected bookstores in the Lankville scrubland and peninsula areas. It gets reviewed– in this very paper, no less by a man who shall remain nameless. And this is what that reviewer wrote:

The Shed Out Back is the printed equivalent of vomit. And also, piss and shit.

I will never forget those lines. But I would not be deterred. I pressed on.

More novels followed in quick succession. Jezebel in the Meadows, Square and Bare, Hard Phil, High Pillows in the Snowy Region, Demon Experiences in Many Lands. Each and every one– a gem in my mind (and the minds of my wife and some of our friends, I should add!) And every time– the same kind of review or some version of it. Here’s what that same reviewer said about Hard Phil:

If you’ve ever wondered if it were possible that a pile of dung could be run through a printing press, bound and sold in bookstores, then pick up a copy of Hard Phil.

Can you god damn believe that? I told my wife that if I ever ran into that guy…

I pressed on. I completed a trilogy of novels about a quartet of overly-endowed revolutionary women and some bears who live in medieval times. The bears talk like humans and it’s sort of about the complex interactions that they might have if there were these overly-endowed revolutionary women around. I add further bears in the second volume and then several child bears with oversized heads in the third novel (they are meant to be from another planet). Then, everyone actually travels to another planet. It was a deeply personal work coming as it did at the zenith of my creative powers and when I sent it off to the publisher, I thought to myself “Shirley, you’ve done it. The first truly important work of our new century.” Then, I waited.

And waited. And waited.

Finally, I called Herb Howard over at Night Pyramid Books. I said, “Herb, what the hell’s going on over there?”

And he said, “I’m sorry, Cust. But we won’t be publishing the Nude in Orbit Trilogy. It’s just…” He sputtered out. I slammed the phone down.

And you know what I did? I published the god damn thing myself.

I got copies for $19.95, $29.95 for the signed deluxe edition. You wanna’ correct an injustice? Buy one.

You WILL NOT be disappointed.

The opinions of Cust Shirley are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.

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

Royer to Purchase “Burger Rex” Franchise

March 19, 2015 Leave a comment
Elliott Cumber-Lanny

Elliott Cumber-Lanny

LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!

Eccentric Lankville business magnate Ric Royer announced today he will purchase a Burger Rex franchise in Eastern Lankville. Royer has long been a patron and social media enthusiast of the chain and of the Eastern Lankville location in particular.

“It’s my favorite of the many Burger Rex franchises,” noted Royer at an early morning press conference which was held on a log raft in the middle of a lake. “They have paintings of heaven all over the walls and booths shaped like automobiles which create the illusion that you’re driving while you’re eating your food. The booths and the paintings of heaven come with the restaurant.”

Retro automobile booth. Note the man crying in the background.

Retro automobile booth. Note the man crying in the background.

Royer noted that he will make only a few alterations to his new endeavor.

“I’ll add some more paintings of heaven. Otherwise, the tableau is perfect.”

The executive played the hero at the restaurant in an incident in January when he repelled several youths who were taunting an elderly woman.

“With the exception of some unwarranted sexual situations, [the restaurant] has exhibited model behavior since,” Royer averred. “I look forward to owning the restaurant and maybe, sometimes, living there.”

Royer will assume ownership on April 1.

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