OPINION: I’ve Been Hit With a Chair Before, I’ll Be Hit With a Chair Again
By Dick La Hoyt
Hey, this here’s a message for that assclown that hit me with a chair down at The Appliance Tyrant on Route 71. Guess what, shit for brains? I been hit with a chair before and I’ll be hit with a chair again.
Let me tell you what happened. So, I’m parked on the couch with a couple of cold beverages and a take-out container of wings, ready to watch Truckers Driving Over Hills, this reality show I enjoy, when all of a sudden I hear Tammy screaming in the basement. “OH MY GOD, DICK! OH MY GOD, DICK!” over and over again. So, I figure I better check it out. After all, Dick likes to keep the little lady happy.
So, I go downstairs and you know what I see? Whole god damn utility sink is clogged to hell and water is running all over my newly-painted and recently-refinished concrete floor.
“GOD DAMMIT, DICK LA HOYT, THE WASHER’S BROKE!” Tam yells. She’s wet as a dog in the rain and plus, she’s got on a white t-shirt, so that was some bonus points for old Dick. Hey, you gotta’ see the good in every situation, know what I mean?
Anyway, I get the sink unclogged and then go to work on the washer. And don’t you know it– the god damn agitator comes right off. Broke at the base.
“This baby is toast,” I tell Tam, who’s drying off (unfortunately). “I’m gonna’ have to get a new one.”
“I saw that the Washing Machine Realm is having a sale,” Tam offers.
I smiled. Sure, Tam was just trying to help but let me tell you– ol’ Dick knows where to go. And that’s how I ended up at The Appliance Tyrant.
So anyways, I’m taking a look at some of the machines– thinking about maybe going with a front loader this time, maybe something in platinum or onyx, when all of a sudden this horse’s ass butts in front of me and checks out the tag on the VERY washer that I was eyeing up. I couldn’t believe it.
“Hey buddy,” I inform him. “That washer is SPOKEN FOR.”
“Oh yeah? You buy this one?” he asks. “It’s a good one,” he says, and pats the washer a couple of times on the side.
I COULD NOT BELIEVE IT.
“Listen, man. I went and told you the washer was spoken for. Now, you’re patting it on the side like you own it? What gives you the god damn RIGHT?”
He takes a step back for a second but then he comes forward and pats it again. I nearly lost it.
“I’ll pat this machine if I want to, man,” he says.
“Alright, we’re taking this shit OUTSIDE,” I say.
“GLADLY,” he says.
So, anyways, we head out into the parking lot. It’s pretty cracked and weedy and there’s some old furniture out there that I guess they never got around to throwing away. And as I’m staring at an old stool, wondering if maybe I could refinish it and use it at my workbench, the guy brains me with a god damn chair. I never saw it coming.
I wake up in the back room of the Tyrant. A couple of salesman are standing around trying to pitch plastic forks into an empty coffee can. I got a headache the size of the Outlands.
“Your wife’s coming to pick you up,” one of the salesman says.
“She sounded plenty mad,” the other one says.
I’d figure it out. Dick La Hoyt always figures it out.
But I just want that prick to know one thing– I been hit with a chair before and I’ll sure as SHIT be hit with a chair again.
The opinions of Dick La Hoyt are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.
Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.
By Dick Oakes, Jr.
It was two in the morning when I woke with a start.
I didn’t know what it was. The Murray was quieter than hell. Then, suddenly, I heard it. Some kind of low moan coming from the back parking lot followed by a high-pitched slow squeak.
There was a little bit of the gin left on the nightstand and I finished it off.
Go back to bed Oakes.
But I was up now. I threw on a pair of shorts and went down the back staircase. Tibbs hadn’t even bothered to put a light on. I had to feel my way down four floors.
A dim hallway led to the rear door. I passed the kitchen and the laundry– both had a stillness to them that bothered me but I couldn’t make nothing of it. I reached the door and threw it open.
Tibbs was out there in his white suit, drenched in sweat. His back was to me.
“What do you say there, Tibbs?”
He turned. He was terrified, there was no getting around it. There was some kind of an inflatable beach ball between his legs and a bicycle pump in one of his hands.
“Mr. Oakes,” he said in a voice not his own. He was breathing heavily. “I have, tonight, reached the seventh emanation of the divine hierarchy between Earth and the Godhead.”
I watched the sweat pour off his face and spot the white suit.
Tibbs, Sr.
“Each of the twenty-two letters of the ancient Lankvillian alphabet have their own number and are added together in words to make metaphorical sympathy, you understand, Oakes.” He bent over suddenly and squeezed the beach ball between his knees. That was the high-pitched slow squeak, I realized.
“It’s nearly there now, Oakes. Nearly to the…”
He exhaled a series of increasingly urgent breaths.
“Nearly to the eighth emanation.”
He bent over and used the bicycle pump on the beach ball until it was full. Then, he held it up to the pale moonlight. The pump fell to the ground.
“Here. Here. Take it.”
He stretched the ball towards the sky.
“Take it. Please. Please take it.”
He must have stood like that for five minutes.
Finally, he dropped the ball.
“It’s not to happen tonight.”
He bent to one knee and began sobbing. Then, he stood up and angrily threw the pump over into the next yard.
I slipped back to my room.
Oral Histories of Some Former Lankville Pugilists
Rocky “Fancy Boy” Pheft (1949-1962), 52-25, 33 KO
I grew up on a farm in the Outlands and my old man, he wasn’t no good at farming so we were always starving. Just about all of us died of starvation. The old man, he wasn’t real good at fixing things either, so the house kept falling over. Eventually, we were all living under a tarp in the dead cornfield. “This is the fault of Adam and Eve,” the old man would say. “We was meant to live forever.” Nobody had no idea what the hell he was talking about.
Anyways, I was determined you could say to make a better life for myself. So, after a bunch of us died of starvation one winter, I took off in a buddy’s car and headed for the Lankville Central Urban Area. And when I got there, this one guy, he said, “you got big hands, kid” and he sent me down to Staller’s Gym which was a famous place back then.
I trained under the old Desert Area fighter Buck Sundays. He got my first fight in the Lankville Square Arena in 1949 and I won that and then I won about 7 or 8 fights in a row and I started to make some dough. First thing I did was buy a beautiful silk suit and after that they all started to call me fancy boy. I had hats too, you should have seen them hats. Big giant hats– that was the style then, giant hats. I had boxes of ’em.
Everything was going along well until 1955 and that’s when I faced Emile Bread. That was a Friday night fight on TV and a title fight and right before I got into the ring, a couple of wiseguys stopped me on the way out of the dressing room and told me to throw it. “Go down in the 4th, kid,” they said. “If you don’t, we’ll take all your giant hats.” Well, they had me over a barrel. There was nothing I could do. I fell in the 4th and Bread kept his title. And after that, I felt like everybody knew. I couldn’t get no good fights after that. Just carnivals, carpet store openings, just bush league fights. I couldn’t afford the good suits and the giant hats and they stopped calling me Fancy Boy. Well, I kept on for awhile but in 1962, I was fighting for pennies at some place where they didn’t even have no ring. We just fought in a big cardboard box. You’re done Pheft I said to myself.
So, after that, I got married. Her name was Inez. She was a lovely little thing. She was foreign. We was married 32 years. She was blown away by the wind. God, I miss her.
Theatrical Electronic Music Pouring Out of Local Pink Building
By Elliott Cumber-Lanny
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
Theatrical electronic music is pouring out of a Lankville Eastern Urban Area pink building sources are confirming.
The pink building
“It’s very dramatic music,” said Al Cobbs, who operates a nearby auto garage. “Lot of very stirring but ominous synthesizer music punctuated by huge cymbal crashes. Got me thinking about the cosmos, I admit.”
It was unclear precisely where the music was coming from. The building houses a liquor store in the front and two apartments on both the first and second floors.
“I don’t know much about the tenants,” admitted Cobbs, who was utilizing a grease gun to lube a chassis as the vehicle’s owner (an attractive woman) stood by. “I think there’s one guy that has a dog. Maybe not, though.”
Calls placed to the liquor store went unanswered. Robotic flying cameras, launched into the open windows of each of the four apartments, came back with little data.
“I guess it’s a mystery,” noted Cobbs, who began examining the torque on a driveshaft as the vehicle’s owner (an attractive woman) stood by. “At least it’s an electrifying, expressive one.”
Cake in Process of Being Consumed
By Buck Igloos
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
A cake is in the process of being consumed, sources are reporting.
“We had a catered lunch,” said Lowinger Brothers Utility Shed CEO Aaron Lowinger of the Lankville Port Area. “And we’re taking this cake and pumping it up like a god damn pyramid is the nature of what’s going on here.”
Lowinger provided no further explanation.
The cake when it was only half-eaten and prior to Totten’s death.
“I would say the cake is almost half-eaten,” said longtime employee Willie Totten who also contributed to the consumption of the sugary loaf. “About twenty minutes ago, there was more of the cake but as time has moved forward, we are now facing a situation where there is less of the cake.”
“That’s generally the linear path that one follows whenever a cake is presented,” Totten added.
The employee suddenly vomited into a strange opaque grayness that appeared. When the weird phantom-like mist became thicker and threatened to overtake Mr. Totten, he ended the interview abruptly and made an attempt to run out the conference room door before disappearing into the expanding shroud, screaming and shrieking for the help that never came.
“It’s terrible about Willie,” Lowinger commented later. “We’re down to about 1/4 of the cake left now.”
The Lowinger Brothers Utility Shed Company has been providing Lankville with quality utility sheds at affordable prices since 1982.
The Lankville Music Beat
By Zachary Keebaugh
Yo, lately I’ve been getting all up in [Lankville Daily News editor] Marles Cundiff’s cranny. I’m all like, Hey Marles– your paper’s coverage of the Lankville music scene is for dog shit, man. And he’s all like well, why don’t you write something then Zach and I’m all like yeah, sure Marles, you bet I will. (That’s exactly how the convo went down). Anyway, so your boy, Zachary (I’m now going by Zachary) is going to be bringing you news of the fat tempos and mad rhythms from all over Lankville right here in a little column I like to call “The Lankville Music Beat”.
So, I took a bus down to the Mild Southern Peninsula Regions to check out this femme psych folk group The Winds Through the Barley. On the way down, I had this dick sitting in back of me who wouldn’t shut the fuck up about some new political movement called Lankville First! that was gaining momentum in the outlands. “It’s all about Lankvillians for a more Lankvillian Lankville,” he kept droning on and on. He tried to give me some little pamphlet that had a picture of a bunch of blow drys standing super erect and holding up some gaudy flags. “Yo, I don’t go in for no creeds,” I told him and that got him to move back a few rows and out of my shit.
I was met at the bus station by Tommy Candiotti, manager of The Winds Through the Barley. He took me to some place nearby that served gluten free vegan cheese-infused mushroom sandwiches– you should have seen these monsters. I was all like, WHOA, LOOK AT THIS FUCKING SHIT. IT’S LIKE THE COLOSSUS OF MUSHROOM SANDWICHES, YO when they arrived. Tommy’s face got all red so I gathered he didn’t cuss much and I kept it chill after that.
He told me all about The Winds Through the Barley. “They were founded in 2005 over at the Peninsula Day Care University and have basically grown up together,” he said. “They just finished their first album and it’s doing real well, as you know. They’ve been on tour but are also coming home a lot because the folks here just love seeing a home grown group.”
“I guess so,” I said. “I mean, the Mild Southern Peninsula Region has been an overflowing toilet for music, yo.”
“Well, it has,” Tommy said, as he viciously tore into the mushroom sandwich. Seriously, he was wolfing that fucker. “We’ve had a few tinkly piano people but that’s about it.”
Magic Lantern is the first offering from The Winds Through the Barley and it features the for real vocals of lead singer Ruby Orsulak-Finley, who also plays the mandolin, the lute, and the Southern Peninsula pump organ. And plus, yo, she’s a looker, man. Zachary gets a little nervous around the lookers, I’ll admit it and I ended up knocking over an entire tray of muffins in the process. Fortunately, my boy Tommy took care of the bill.
“We like the 20-minute long suite,” she said, over a gluten free vegan cheese-infused mushroom sandwich sans mushroom and a big glass of phosphorus-enriched juice that was squeezed from sand or some shit. “And we like an emerging synthesizer which cannot be heard with the human ear until the very end of the suite at which point it suddenly usurps the pump organ and flows lightly into the arrangement like a batch of carbonated bubbles.”
“Is your music relevant?” I probed. I still gotta’ probe, man. Even though this isn’t an investigative report, I still gotta’ probe.
“Of course,” Orsulak-Finley noted. “Our music is for everyone and any music that is for everyone is always and will always be relevant.”
Ruby Orsulak-Finley, Lead Singer of “The Winds Through the Barley”.
I looked down then and noticed that my mushroom has disappeared. It was just gone, yo, like it had never been. It threw me off, I admit it. I looked around the place and the people, who before had appeared to be ordinary folks just eating mushrooms now looked diabolical, like the spawns of some overwhelmingly large and nameless evil.
“We can’t wait for you to see us play,” Orsulak-Finley said. She looked at my plate. What happened to your sandwich? Her voice sounded garbled and distant and then suddenly deep and fiendish. I got real confused for a very long period of time. There was a sort of haze that seemed to cover everything. After that, I remember some sort of windowless vehicle racing towards some vast unknown. Tommy was next to me– he was hole-punching mysterious papers into a binder and each time we hit a bump, he vomited a little. I closed my eyes.
Then, I was in the club. There were a couple of guys on stage that were bouncing an oversized colored child’s ball back and forth. The crowd seemed to really be enjoying it. They tried to leave the stage once, then twice but were called back on for encores. So, they bounced the ball back and forth again. Someone put a can of something in my hand– no label was apparent– it was a plain white can. “DRINK THIS,” they said. I drank.
Then, The Winds Through the Barley came on. All girl group, as advertised. And although I can remember little of the music, I can say that I was transported to some sort of limitless green plain which, at first, appeared to be bereft of man, of structure, of, in fact, anything marking it to be of our world. I walked forward and the horizon moved further away. I turned around and there was no horizon. You must move forward a voice said.
And then I was back in my overheated shitbox of an apartment above the knives and puzzles shop.
A vinyl copy of The Winds Through the Barley’s album was sitting on the floor, propped up against a stack of puzzles that I had yanked out of the dumpster one night.
I looked out the window. A delicate blue light was issuing forth from Paladin Pizza on the corner. I watched as it became stronger and then enveloped me.
Come get a steak sub sandwich said the voice. It was the voice from the chasm. Mushrooms are fungus. Steak sandwiches are delicious it said.
I floated towards it.
Everything that happened after my arrival will be part of an entirely different sort of story. A story that cannot be printed here.
Zachary Keebaugh is currently on sabbatical.
Samways and Fick, Consultants: SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY
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Why care?
Samways and Fick was recently awarded a “Caring Quality Trophy” from the Lankville Mountain Area Charities Aid Foundation for our commitment to fostering a culture of philanthropy in the workplace and for opening doors for lesser-skilled employees like spastics, idiots and pinheads. Our Social Responsibility Program® encompasses a wide range of activities, from our global heavy chemical neutral policy to semi-pro bono consulting and volunteer support for visible charitable organizations. At Samways and Fick, we can implement a Social Responsibility Program to fit your needs.
Society and its Issues
Watch an excerpt of Dr. Fick talking about society (free):
The most important way Samways and Fick can help your business impact society and make a positive difference is through our consulting expertise and advice. Dr. Samways and Dr. Fick are both experts on society. We pass this expertise on to our clients in all types of industry using a technique that we call “Consulting Osmosis®”. Imagine that your business is a sort of long somewhat permeable thin tube full of molasses (or something else really sticky). This tube will begin to swell with knowledge once it comes in contact with Dr. Samways and Dr. Fick. Before long, it will be close to bursting as the knowledge flows through the semi-permeable membrane and into the tube. The molasses will become less sticky, ideas will begin to flow. A fee will be extracted.
Saving Lives
Our work for governmental and non-governmental organizations can help them enhance the value of facilities associated with education, healthcare, poor people transport and furniture. For example, Samways and Fick For Humanity (SFFH) is our organizational arm dedicated to possibly saving children’s lives in impoverished island communities worldwide. We can help your organization learn how to possibly save children’s lives. Think of how good that will look on your website (maybe in a nice colorful banner along one edge).
Call Samways and Fick, Consultants today. We look forward to helping you reach the area near the top of your mountain.
Dr. Samways teaching social responsibility.
BUYER BEWARE!! AN URGENT WARNING FROM BRIAN SCHROPP
Brian Schropp
Beloved Lankville Columnist Brian Schropp is not to be confused with UFOlogist Brian Schropp or ‘The Power of Tolerable’ Brian Schropp or the Brian Schropp who was trying to sell those berries or the Brian Schropp from Pineapple Town Island.
Yes my dear sweet readers, I have seen it. I still shake looking at the picture of this man on the disk cover– this “other” who happens to be named Brian Schopp but is not me. Come on folks, are you really fooled? Do you think he even looks like this handsome devil? I guess if you hold it up at an angle and squint very VERY hard he may sorta resemble me in a vague way. Personally, I think the UFOlogist Brian Schropp looks more like me than that fool. Anyways, that is not the point here– I need the readers of this paper to understand that I DID NOT PUT OUT THIS ABOMINATION OF A MUSIC PROJECT CALLED ‘A LITTLE PIZZA IN THE NIGHT’. This is a total scam by that no good EASTERN Lankville guy trying to use my name to make a few bucks. Really folks, you think I would come up with a title like that? You know the creative juices that run through this half bumpkin fueled mind– please, give me a little credit!! And the disk just sounds horrible, anyone with ANY working knowledge of the pizza business would be able to tell this dude has no clue. It’s called a ‘Pizza Eggwich’ not a ‘Egg Sandwich with Pizza Sauce’. Then you have track 5 entitled ‘That Snack Pizza Would Look Better Rubbed On Your Body’. Is that supposed to mean a ‘Mid Morning Snack Pizza’? COME ON– AT LEAST GET THE TERMINOLOGY CORRECT!!
DO NOT BUY ANYTHING FROM THIS MAN!
How an ace reporter like Bernie Keebler could be fooled by this spectacle is beyond me. I guess it just shows how good of a scam artist those Eastern Lankville lowlifes can be. So please, if you have bought this despicable piece of trash in whatever format please return it for a FULL refund. And if you bought it from that record store where Larry Klacik works, please give him some extra grief. That bed wetter should know better. I understand that all downloaded copies on a ‘Reckoner Exactra 2.0’ can be returned using the code ‘SASSYBOY22LIKES!!!{%$#}LIPSTICK’ (you may need to type it in your Reckoner a few times).
I guess in light of this whole mess I will share some news which I was hoping to keep under wraps for at least a little while longer. I, meaning yours truly the cuisine writer Brian Schropp, have actually been working on a concept pizza album!! The MUCH better name for the project- ‘Hey Buddy, Can You Spare Me A Slice?’ is truly a visionary endeavor into the world of the pizza business. As always, the ideas are coming fast and furious so this might even turn into a double album or a series of works to come out monthly!! My ultimate aim is for you the listener to understand not only the joy of eating something so cosmically wonderful as a pizza pie but also understanding the passion and hard work which goes into making it. Not any of this lovemaking nonsense– any true pizza maker doesn’t have time for that! Like any piece of art which is wayyyyy ahead of its time, my words can not do it justice. The quality of this masterpiece will speak for itself.
The true work of genius.
The following link: https://soundcloud.com/devon-fick/pizza-around-call is a little sampling to wet your appetite- please remember take into account that this is in the very early development stage.
So, please keep your ears peeled to the streets to hear about this exciting release from the REAL Brian Schropp. My hope is to at least get it out in some sort of cassette-type format very soon!!
Until next time folks, you know what to do with your mouth and mind. Happy eating!!-BRI
Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.
By Dick Oakes, Jr.
It was right before I crossed over that I began to get skull cracking headaches and a general feeling of depression.
“I can see that Mr. Oates,” Dr. Yothers said. A child’s toy oven had been moved into the dim office and was humming lightly. Who could figure on any of it?
“It has a syrupy look, this malaise you speak of. It’s like syrup. Visible syrup. Or non-visible syrup intended to convey a metaphor.”
“I got it Doc. Can you give me something for it?”
“Well CERTAINLY!” he announced loudly. It was then that a light went off on the oven and a ding was heard.
“That will be my little cakes,” he said excitedly. “Why, you came at the perfect time Mr. Oakes.”
“Skip it. Let’s have a look at them pills.”
He yanked the old drawer out of the desk. “Oh yes, there are several. These were prescribed for an old patient of mine, a Mr. Fosdick. My Lord, he was crazy. I believe he committed suicide.”
“Yes, it’s sad,” Yothers added. He bowed his head but tilted it in such a way that he could observe the little oven.
“Anyway, Mr. Fosdicks never picked these up so his tragic death is a boon to you, Mr. Oates!”
I took the little orange bottles in my hands. There were four of them– all different sizes and names.
“Which should I take, doc?”
“Why, all of them, of course! Four are better than one!”
He suddenly darted over to the oven and greedily removed the cakes.
“Stay where you are, Mr. Oakes.”
It was the last time I had seen him.
And now I was lying in bed at the Murray, my head afflicted with hundreds of little bolts of pain. The pill bottles lay empty on the unmade bed. Somehow, I managed to reach the service phone. As usual, Tibbs snapped it up with uncanny speed.
“MR. OATES! WHY, HOW ARE YOU TODAY?”
“Listen, Tibbs. You know a good doctor? Somebody who doesn’t nose around with a lot of questions?”
Tibbs quieted. “I believe I do, Mr. Oakes. I believe I know exactly the type of man you are looking for.”
He hung up. I started to call back but collapsed back into the pillows. I thought about Yothers and them little cakes. There was no merit to any of it.
About fifteen minutes passed before I heard a little knock at the door. I staggered over to it and threw the chain.
He was a little balding man in a lab coat carrying some sort of strange oversized suitcase with a mysterious apparatus that extended out of the side. He seemed to have a habit of staring directly at the floor.
“I’m Dr. Cannons,” he said in a barely audible voice. “My fee for this is $100.”
“Jesus H. Christ,” I said. “If you can cure this then I guess I got no choice.”
“Go over to the bed.”
Dr. Cannons
I did as I was told. He put the weird suitcase on the end table. There was a knob there and he turned it. A whooshing sound filled the room.
He started fooling with the apparatus. It had some kind of a mask at the end made of clear plastic. He still had never looked up.
“You have the $100?”
I drew out a couple of fifties and threw them on the end table.
“Good. Now, I will place this mask on your face and within about ten minutes, you will be dead.”
I sat up.
“I don’t know what the hell Tibbs told you but that ain’t what I’m looking for.”
He still didn’t look up.
“I’m just looking for something to cure these headaches and these blues, Doc. I’ve felt like hell for months now.”
“I…I’m not that kind of doctor,” he said. “I can recommend someone else…”
“Nah, let’s go ahead and skip that.”
He turned off the suitcase and was gone in less than a minute.
About twenty minutes later, Tibbs let himself into the room. He was pushing a cart full of sheets and towels and had a huge black canvas bag draped across one shoulder.
“OH MY! MR. OATES, YOU SURPRISED ME!”
“What the hell kind of thing was that, Tibbs?”
Tibbs looked befuddled. “MR. OAKES, YOU MUSTN’T THINK! WELL…I…”
“Skip it. Bring me up a sixer of FUN BEER would you? Tallboys?”
I figured on drinking it away.
“YES, MR. OAKES, OF COURSE.”
He pushed the cart back out.
Just a little off the head, it’ll help just a little.
The day passed that way.
Greetings from Pineapple Island
By Brian Schropp
Brian Schropp is not to be confused with Lankville Daily News columnist Brian Schropp or UFOlogist Brian Schropp or ‘The Power of Tolerable’ Brian Schropp or the Brian Schropp who was trying to sell those berries.
Is it such an easy life living on one of the many Lankville Islands? Folks from the ‘main land’ have dreamed of island life as living on the beach all day, chopping up pineapples to put in a delightful fruit salad and receiving deep relaxing massages from beautiful island women in coconut bras and grass skirts. Well, actually it is all those things, who the fuck am I kidding, I live a great life.
I was abandoned as a baby on this isle, left in a giant pineapple shell for the natives to find and raise as one of their own. Now, some of you might find it wrong that from an early age I learned to manipulate these folks into thinking I was some sort of God. To wait on me hand and foot with any silly whim I may have. I see it as turning a possible dreadful situation created by neglectful parents into the finest glass of lemonade one could have. However, as of late I have found my perfect island life being disrupted by various other Brian Schropps and the chaotic beings who follow them.
The first Brian Schropp came floating in on a raft earlier this year. He must have been on that wooden makeshift monstrosity for many a month because the poor soul was out of his mind. He babbled a fantastical yarn of pizza cults, oceans made of pizza sauce, and of reality being nothing but a giant pizza oven. His tale was so crazy that it sent the natives running to their huts in fear. After giving this crazed mound of flab a few glasses of pineapple juice (he whined for strawberry milk which I didn’t have) I was able to have a more ‘normal’ conversation with the lad. He was trying to visit each and every island (which is an impossibility) to learn the true origins of pizza sauce. I told him we really didn’t enjoy ‘pizza’ per say– instead we make a pizza dough crust with nothing added expect pineapple on top. He was instantly taken aback by this and frankly became quite a bit rude about the fact we didn’t enjoy the more traditional pizza fare. Well, needless to say, I had to send him off on his raft quite quickly. If word had gotten around to the tribe that he insulted our great pineapple flatbread, he wouldn’t be living for long!!
There was another Brian Schropp who showed up on the island not long ago (not sure how he got here, my people just found him wandering in the rain forest). This one was looking to take any sort of fruit or plant life back to the mainland to sell as a sort of fake ‘cure all’ to the desperate. I didn’t like this one from the get go and had two of my finest warriors, Samu and Tonga, take this wretched soul over to our only Lankville Postal Office on the island and ship him back in a box. Now, I here there is mention of him telling folks he had chanced on some ‘magic berries’ off this island. I can assure you this is completely and utterly false. If this mountebank should ever come even close to my island again, I will send my warriors out in their war canoes and strike down the fiend with spears.
The chaotic Dr. Nickelbee creature.
I have to say the worst of the worst was one of these ‘chaotic beings’ I mentioned earlier. This one came looking for the first Brian Schropp not long after I sent him packing. And much like that one this monster came floating in on a poorly built raft. Once near shore he rolled off his raft and like a fool tried running to shore (with waves constantly knocking him down) yelling my name. Once here, my warriors had to hold the loon back as he tried to hug me.
“BRIAN-BRIAN, DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!! HAVEN’T YOU MISSED ME AT ALL?”
I told him I had no clue who he was and that sent him into a tailspin. Thrashing to and fro in the powerful grip of my warriors with his face turning an unnatural shade of red, this yob called me a lair and then attempted to spit in my face. Well, that was the worst thing he could have done; I will not stand for such behavior. Once he recovered from his tremendous beat down, I was able to get more sense out of him. Turns out his name was Dr. Nickelbee and he is some sort of therapist for this other Brian Schropp. He mumbled an ungrateful apology for trying to hug me in a case of mistaken identity. I let it go, I can see how after many months on a raft he might mistake me for this other, we have a few vague similar features.
Our short civilized conversation soon turned South again after I told him the story of ‘Pizza Sauce’ Brian Schropp and how I sent him away.
“HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO SUCH A DELICATE FRAGILE BOY?!! HE NEEDED TO BE HELD AND STROKED TENDERLY NOT THROWN HAPHAZARD TO THE TRADE WINDS!!!”
Thus started yet another yelling tirade worse than the other which ended with this ‘Doctor’ trying to spit on me again and then wetting himself. It took both Samu and Tonga to strap this demon from the mainland down to his raft and send him back out to the ocean. I hear tales from other islands that at night, once the quiet sets in, you can hear this Dr. Nickelbee screaming somewhere out in the ocean. Who knows if this is really true? All I can say is if this one tries to enter my waters again much like the ‘Berries’ Brian Schropp, he will be met with war canoes and spears.
Until next time with another story from Pineapple Town, keep your thoughts open to all the possibilities of pineapple. Warm regards- Brian
Schropp Album Panned by Critics
By Bernie Keebler
Lankville Daily News correspondent Brian Schropp has released an album and critics aren’t so thrilled with it.
A Little Pizza in the Night, which features spoken word poems and light portable keyboard playing, has been thoroughly panned.
“It’s unlistenable,” said music writer Plete Boyer. “I mean literally. It sounds like it was recorded on a cheap cassette tape in the back of the Pizza A’Round. From what I can tell, no microphone was used other than the little tiny built-in mic that most of those cheap players have. And on certain tracks, Schropp seems to have his mouth directly on the mic and everything is a kind of a slobbery garble.”
The album features 14 tracks and Schropp claims it was recorded over three sessions on three different days.
“I had to fit it in between my important work here at the Round and also for the paper. But I feel like it’s a beautiful piece of work in a very specific way. I think it just adds to my personal ouevre.”
Schropp was ordered by his supervisor to open an enormous can of sauce and the interview was ended prematurely.
A Little Pizza in the Night will be available at most major record stores in the Northern Suburban Area.
“We’ll be carrying it, I believe,” said newly-hired record store clerk Larry Klacik who was recently dismissed from his position at Larry Pendleton’s Double Book Hut due to public drunkenness. “I’m sure it will sell moderately well. Maybe.”
The album retails for $7.99 on compact disk, $9.99 as a digital download on The Reckoner Exactra 2.0 and $12.99 on limited edition picture disk vinyl (the picture is a pizza).
Giant Trash Storm to Pass Through Lankville Tomorrow
By Jack Quintz, Weatherman
A giant storm of trash is expected to pass through Lankville tomorrow.
Citizens are advised to stay inside between noon and 8:00 PM.
“The trash is simply making its yearly circumnavigation of the Earth and arriving back to its original source, as trash is known to do,” said Shane Rawley, a scientist with the Lankville National Organization for Weather Patterns (LNOWP) in an email.
By Friday, the trash is expected to travel out to sea but not before dumping anywhere from 10,000 to 100,000 pounds of garbage on the mainland.
“It will mean an enormous cleanup but the stout will of Lankvillians will bend this problem over their knee like a child or a misbehaving lover and spank it away into oblivion,” said President Pondicherry in a prepared statement.
Trash particles will contribute to hazy skies and the creation of toxic algal blooms in most of Lankville’s waterways.
“Yes, the rivers and lakes will all die, unfortunately,” said Rawley when probed. “So, there’s that.”
Some studies have suggested that trash can affect how clouds and precipitation actually form.
“It could rain trash. You should warn everybody about that too,” Rawley noted.
Prior to the trash tempest, weather should be warm and seasonable with increasing humidity towards evening.
Visible satellite imagery showing the trash storm nearing the Lankville coast.
Panda Thinks Puppets Are Real
Brock Belvedere, Jr.
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
A pair of panda puppets made to look like real pandas are feeding tidbits of bamboo and candy to an actual month-old panda sources are confirming. The Lankville Daily News rushed right over to cover this important story at the request of our editors.
Officials at the Lankville Memorial Discount Zoo, a facility which works with endangered species when other zoos are closed, say this is no joke. They say the lessons learned by the puppet feedings may have an impact on saving the Lankville Monstrous Panda of which there are only a few hundred left in captivity. The officials went on for hours about their puppets and, at the request of our editors, we stayed to listen.
Zoo spokesman Sharon Quade-Mannion (7 out of 10) explained that the egg containing the baby panda (named “David”) was whisked away from its panda mother in a ruse called “double heaving”. At the request of our editors, we asked a follow-up question and Quade-Mannion explained the process.
“It’s simple, really. You heave an object, usually something like a chair or an ottoman, away from the mama panda and then you quickly heave another similar object. The panda becomes distracted and that’s when you snatch up that egg,” she noted. “This causes the panda to lay a second replacement egg and she sits on that egg, so she’s not really troubled by the whole process,” she added.
Quade-Mannion demonstrated the technique and, at the request of the editors, we took notes.
David, who was easily fooled.
“David was born two weeks later,” said Quade-Mannion, her skin glistening with sweat from the earlier heaving. “And that’s where Joyce Mitchell-Teufel comes in.”
At the request of our editors, we were forced to ask about Ms. Mitchell-Teufel.
Turns out, Mitchell-Teufel is known as “The Puppet Lady of the Western Valley”. We copied this sobriquet down at the request of our editors. She designed a pair of panda puppets to act as “parental simulacrum” for David.
“Pandas are very easy to fool,” Mitchell-Teufel (3 out of 10) noted. “David took to them [the parents] right away!”
“And the rest, as they say, is history!” Quade-Mannion averred.
“Panda history!” Mitchell-Teufel added.
The two women began laughing hysterically and, at the request of our editors, we copied down an entire page of “ha ha’s”.
This reporter then headed straight to a nearby tavern to capture a little “local flavor”. But not before phoning this breaking story in immediately to the editors who will doubtless send it forth to an anxiously-awaiting public.
Tension Mounts as Older Man Stands by Side of House for Second Day
By Otis Nixon
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
Mr. Crowley continues to stand by the side of his house.
Tension is mounting in the Southern Swamplands as an older man is standing by the side of his house for a second straight day.
Several tactical police units, members of the Air Legionnaires and Lankville Army special ops are currently on the scene.
Gordy Crowley, 72, a retired associate of the fire department, has refused to make his intentions clear.
“We’ve rolled several desirable items to Mr. Crowley in transparent plastic orbs but so far he hasn’t touched any of them,” noted Detective Gee-Temple, who was the first to arrive at the scene.
“Most of the items were purchased at malls, so we’re talking quality,” the intrepid detective added.
The standoff began yesterday morning at 7:30 A.M. An advisory notice was issued last night at dusk and an 8:00 PM curfew was instituted. Nearby homes and businesses have been evacuated and residents are currently being housed at local emergency shelters.
“We told everyone to grab anything that was dear to them and flee,” noted Gee-Temple who was clad in body armor.
A press conference is expected later this afternoon.
The Electronics Cranny: THE RECKONER EXACTRA 2.0
By Neil Cuppy
A powerful new electronic pocket calculator, the Reckoner Exactra 2.0, has been released by Danny Madison Industries.
The wildly popular calculator has already received over a billion pre-orders. Regular customer deliveries and specially-paid “air robot” deliveries begin today.
The new machine is designed for a broad range of calculating applications. It weighs only nine pounds (complete with rechargable nickel-cadmium battery) and fits into a large pocket. The new battery-powered unit can be likened to a “fast, extremely accurate electronic slide rule with a solid-state memory similar to those used in supercomputers,” says wunderkind designer Danny Madison.
“Of course, it has many other functions,” noted Madison, aged 13. “I don’t care for the antiquated term “calculator”. Unfortunately, the nomenclature is necessary for marketing purposes.”
The Reckoner Exactra 2.0: IT’S YOUR TIME: CALCULATE
The Reckoner Exactra 2.0 bears little resemblance to the original Reckoner whose sales now number in the billions.
“We’ve replaced the informational diskettes from the original Reckoner with built-in capacitors that are capable of collecting information automatically. In other words, you as the holder will add no information to the machine, the machine will garner information from you and your environment,” said Madison.
The inventor gave a brief demonstration.
“Note that the Reckoner Exactra 2.0 is now turned on thus automatically engaging data collection. We now turn our attention to the red light-emitting diode display which can, of course, show the usual 10-digit numerical sequences but can also furnish environmental and human geographical information.”
A brief beep was heard.
“And we see now that the Reckoner Exactra 2.0 is noting that Mr. Cuppy’s wife was murdered and that he lives alone.”
The audience clapped profusely in appreciation.
The Reckoner Exactra 2.0 comes with a sturdy travel case made of Eastern leather, foil name tags and a 379-page instruction manual. The calculator features an unusual 48-month warranty.
“It will not break down,” said Madison, who paused to plug his personal Reckoner into a pizza for reasons unclear. “It will, in fact, never break down.”
The Reckoner Exactra 2.0 currently retails for $449.99.
ACCOMMODATIONS
When staying in the Area Beyond the Outlands, pick the Murray. Friendly, creative staff, delightful beds, curtains. Phone Far Outlands 5-6712.
LANKVILLE DAILY NEWS: IN BOOK FORM!
The book is gone. It will never return. We hear stories but they are likely false. We live in the woods now. We make fire with a lighter that we found in the street. It was crushed by a truck but, somehow, perhaps through some intervention that is beyond us, it still works. We are waiting. We are waiting.
Original Pondicherry Association News promotional advertisement (2009)
TONIGHT ON TV! RICHARD AND THE POSTMAN REUNION SPECIAL!
The Hit program from the 1970's returns to Lankville TV tonight on LBC!
ADULT ADVERTISEMENT
Women all over Lankville are just sitting at mammoth computers waiting to hear from men like you! Just insert a floppy disk, write a (non-sexual) message and let the sparks fly! (Computer not included).
ADVERTISEMENT
A Vitiello Decorative Ham makes a great gift. Show that you care today.
BANDED DUFFELS ON PALLETS
Assorted colors. Whatever you want to do, man. Call Lankville Falls, 3247.
BRIAN SCHROPP IN THE LANKVILLE DAILY NEWS
The most important cuisine articles ever written.
CANDY
Jipps Co. Full Service Candy Counter! Our alert girls will push gummy drops into special paper sheaths, engage in restrained pleasantries and explain chocholate-to-nougat ratios. Call Central Lankville 3614.
CAT PHOTO
In compliance with Lankville subsection 11:16-4.
CHAMBERS CO. HAND DRILLS: When Electricity is Not an Option
When electricity is not an option consider the Chambers Company hand crank drills. Perfect for use in tight spaces, on distant islands or for drilling holes in fences to see TITS. Call 4-2309.
EMPLOYMENT
Big Ed's BBQ Shack is looking for a part-time waitress. Someone who doesn't nose around and ask a lot of difficult questions. Call Lankville Rougher Area, 5-2100.
EMPLOYMENT
Nuts, Ah! is looking for an experienced nut-handler. Experience with bagging nuts also important. If you break the nut sack, the nuts will drop onto the floor. Come in person for application to Twin Removed Pines Mall. NO CALLS.
FOX FOR PARTIES
Hire the Poetry Fox for Your Child's Next Party. Reasonable rates. Writes poems, dances, will not stand for any shenanigans. Call South Lankville 2009.
The funny stories of Dick Oakes, Jr. have thrilled millions. Look for them today in The Lankville Daily News!
GELSINGER’S ALLURE CLUB
Topless, bottomless wonderland. Mysterious back rooms. Carpeted entirely in astroturf. NO CALLS.
GREBOV BROTHERS TELESCOPE COMPANY
The Grebov Brothers are Lankville's finest purveyor of telescopes for astronomy enthusiasts. Substantial 4.5" apertures and fast f/4 focal ratios provide bright, detailed views of solar system targets like the Moon and planets, as well as wide-field celestial objects like nebulas and star clusters but also TITS.
GUMP PENETRATES
Only in The Lankville Daily News
HADBAWNIK HAUNTED STAIRCASE COMPANY
The Hadbawnik Company is Lankville's #1 installer of haunted, brush-littered staircases. Friendly non-foreign staff! Call Western (Outer) Lankville, 2154 or 2198 today.
HADBAWNIK HAUNTED BRUSH PILES!
The Hadbawnik Haunted Staircase Company is now offering haunted brush piles for use on your staircase. Create eerie, supernal ambiance. Allow the brush to blow haphazardly in the wind, creates fear, foreboding. Call our friendly staff of white people at Western Lankville, 2154. Brush piles may contain other forms of yard debris.
HEY! WANT A MONKEY?
Hey! Want a live little monkey? They do cute things like climb into pumpkins. Call "The Captain"- Central Lankville Hills, 5264.
HOME DUMP Your Neighborhood Hardware Store 16 Lankville Locations!
Weekly Special: Primitive Forged Hooks. Buy 4, Get a Can of Paint. Or Maybe Not. You'll Just Have to Find Out.
INFLAMED BY STARS AND BLOOD
Lankville's Premier Science Fiction and Horror Magazine Now Appearing in The Lankville Daily News!
JOHNNY PADRES, OPTICIAN
Lankville has been relying on Dr. Johnny Padres for their optical needs since 1973. We offer a full service family eye care center and provide examinations for glasses and contacts and have a large display of designer, traditional and innovative eyewear for both regular prescription eyeglasses and sunglasses all of which will enable you to see TITS better. Call Lankville Business 2618-2.
LIFE LESSONS FUNERAL HOME
Life Lessons Funeral Home has been helping Lankville with dead people since 1932. Contact Eddie or Stummins, Lankville Business, 5-2161.
LOOK AT THESE BEAUTIES!
Really some of our best ever! Have you ever seen anything like it? Call Kelly (male) at Lankville Sound 2615.
MISSING
Missing: adult penguin. Christ, I just let him out in the yard for one minute and now he's gone. Responds to the name "Richard". Call Lankville Eastern Outlands, 5-6213.
NOW PLAYING!
The Unhinged: A New Film by Tom "Vapor" Rayford. Crisp Street Cinema, Eastern Lankville
PINEAPPLE CITY: A New Way of Being
Pineapple City is a new way of being, feeling and having your shirt off. Located in the distant, barren Lankville Pines, Pineapple City is now accepting applications for sheds. Call PINES, 2-5771.
THE PUZZLER
In the pie chart above, what segment represents a certain specific strata of the general population?
REAL ESTATE
Little shed for sale. With door, mailbox, dirt plot. Site of multiple murders but don't worry, they happened around back. To inquire, come to the shed. Go around back.
REAL ESTATE
Four acre lot in Eastern Lankville Cove Area. Price reduced! Site of a fireworks display in which several people fell out of their lawnchairs and died. Locals believe it haunted but that's crap. Call Cove 2751.
THE RECKONER EXACTRA 2.0 : A Danny Madison Product
It's Your Time: CALCULATE
SARAH SAMWAYS: CONTRIBUTING FEMALE
Exclusively in the Lankville Daily News (and some other papers).
SPEAKING ENGAGEMENT
Robin Brox will sit around and get progressively more intoxicated while listening to this other broad natter on about something. LANKVILLE REGIONAL AUDITORIUM, August 4, 11PM.
SPEAKING ENGAGEMENT CANCELED
The Dr. M. Chambers speech and candy-making event has been canceled again following Dr. Chambers' sudden collapse into some baskets. New date TBA
TRAVEL TIPS by Randy Hammers
The Kum Back Inn in the Lankville Desert Area has long been serving road-weary travelers. They feature a restaurant (with cocktails) and two spacious conference rooms. The Kum Back boasts 65 units-- each including window dressing, some chairs and a larger chair (seats two smallish children), a bed with orange comforter, a plastic trash can, clever paintings, and a windowless door. TV also available in 17 (sometimes 19) rooms. Most of the rooms are air-conditioned. Oscillating fans available upon request. Illuminated carports will protect your vehicle from the vicious sudden dust storms that often overtake the Desert Area and the wild thieves that occasionally parade across the landscape like some unmentionable horror. Call now at TU-0780 and ask for Bud or Karen (married).
UTILITY YARD SHEDS
The Lowinger Brothers offer great utility yard sheds at low prices. This one is haunted. Call Lankville Port Area 1072.
VACATION PACKAGES!
Spectacular vacations in campers by little mountains. Your cares will melt away but you will have to be careful of that shack (pictured). A lunatic lives there. Call Mercantile District 2711.
WRESTLING TONIGHT!
8PM, Southern Lankville Man-Arena. Featuring Ric "Wild Boy" Tipps (green trunks).
ZACH KEEBAUGH INVESTIGATIONS
Only in The Lankville Daily News
The Lankville Daily News 
LETTER SACK