The Lankville Daily News

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.

By Buck Igloos

LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!

There is a boy in the Southern Pond Area jail who is proving very much of a conundrum.

The boy, who was arrested on January 15th in the act of distributing lewd pamphlets, has confounded area and national police.

“We have been unable to find out exactly who he is,” noted Detective Gee-Temple, who was called to the scene. “He first gave his name as George Peterson and then later as Tom Barrasso, Jr. and still later as Floyd Tettleton. At first, he said he came from the Islands but now he’s saying that he comes from the Hills. He has, at various times, said the Eastern and Western Hills.”

The boy is about 15 years of age, stands 5 feet 2 inches and weighs 375 pounds.

A series of lewd pamphlets recently seized by Lankville police.

“He’s pretty wide,” Gee-Temple added. “He’s probably wider than he is tall, if you can imagine.”

The boy stated at first that he had never gone to school but then later said that he had completed two years at a Hill School. He said he had left the Hills two years ago, had been on a boat at one time and arrived in the Southern Pond Area some time last summer. He could not remember the names of his parents or any relatives.

“Hill people sometimes don’t have names,” Gee-Temple noted. “They are a mean people, bound to the soil.”

The boy would not elaborate on how he had taken up the vocation of lewd pamphleteer. “It was a pamphlet catering to behinds,” Gee-Temple stated. “As in, rumps,” the intrepid detective averred.

The distribution of lewd pamphlets carries an automatic sentence of 60 years in the Southern Pond Area.

“I suppose there’s a chance that the boy could serve less time due to being underage,” said Gee-Temple.  “He could also, of course, be sent to a retarded home. We’ll just have to see how it plays out.”

Buck Igloos

A trip to the Lankville National Archives in the Southeastern Savannah Area is a magical discovery of our shared heritage. No Lankvillian should pass up the opportunity for a visit.

Curator Steve Pilgrims. Pilgrims gave us this weird untoward expression for reasons unclear.

Located in a series of strange tubular-shaped buildings directly in the middle of the savannah and accessed via a long, poorly-maintained highway, the Archives are Lankville’s repository for anything and everything of historical, cultural, and social importance. “Everybody sends everything here,” noted Director Steve Pilgrims, head of the vast collection since 1998. “We’ve had to kind of start refusing things– people were just sort of sending whatever they felt like– animals, trash, it was getting kind of ridiculous.”

Pilgrims led us into a vast gallery where the current exhibit, “The Lost Vernacular Signage of Lankville” is housed.

“You might look at these gaudy little fliers and think, “What the heck, Steve?” This is just a bunch of junk,” noted Pilgrims. ” But these fliers and handbills say a lot about social concerns through the years, about what individuals felt was worth advertising, worth announcing to their communities. It’s been very, very well-received.”

The infamous “This Bitch Has a Green Patina” flier. Origin unknown.

Perhaps most prominent on the eastern wall of the exhibit is a collection of the infamous “This Bitch Has a Green Patina” leaflet that appeared all over Lankville for many years. “It’s a curious case- we have no idea if the bitch was lost, if someone was looking for him, what the deal was,” said Pilgrims, who paused briefly to examine a patron who had hanged himself in a distant corner. “Calls to the phone number in question reveal nothing– as a matter of fact, that’s not even a proper [Lankville] phone number,” Pilgrims added.

“I Have a Cabinet” mini-magazine. Origin unknown.

A collection of curious pamphlets sit on a table in the middle of the room, covered by glass. “These were collected from bus stations, basement cultural presentations, small motel girl wrestling events. Sort of the detritus left behind,” noted Pilgrims. “Again, the origins of just about all of these are unclear. Nobody has stepped forward to claim them.”

The crown jewel of the exhibit however, are the “apeshit coupons”. Thousands of them, in all sizes and colors– found all over Lankville.

“You’d buy, say, a delicious icey cold slushy drink and you’d get to the bottom of the drink and there would be an apeshit coupon,” said Pilgrims. “And the guy that sold you the delicious icey cold slushy drink would be as flummoxed as you– no idea how it got there. Calls to the cup manufacturer would reveal the same information. Or you’d buy a new book and you’d get to page 131 and BAM- there would be another apeshit coupon. It was a complete mystery- never solved.”

“They’re still out there,” Pilgrims added. “People still find them occasionally. Gee-Temple, The Bureau of Probes– they’ve come up with nothing.

One of the infamous “apeshit coupons”.

“The Lost Vernacular Signage of Lankville” runs through August 28, 2015. “It will really be your last chance to see this material for quite awhile,” stressed Pilgrims. “In particular, the “apeshit coupons” will be returned to The Bureau of Probes and some of the mysterious pamphlets will be placed into folders which will be filed by these gigantic robotic arms we have that never seem to file anything correctly which leads to us thinking that a lot of material has been lost.”

“Something we’re definitely working on,” Pilgrims stated after a long and somewhat eerie silence.

Tickets for the exhibit are $10 (free for some babies).

By Buck Igloos

The first job I had was writing copy for hotel pamphlets. The guy that gave it to me– he said, “Now look, Igloos. I’m giving you a real shot here. Don’t blow it.” So, I went home and just about stayed up all night. Nothing was working– I’d put something down on the page and then just as soon I’d tear it up. I must have filled about five wastebins with crumpled paper. My lover at the time, she said, “I’m getting tired of emptying this wastebin, Buck. Whyn’t you come to bed?” She was a lovely girl– gorgeous hair. My God, I was crazy about her.

Anyway, it must’ve been about 6 A.M. and I was due in in an hour. And then finally it came: “offering its guests convenience and quiet relaxation in a quaint setting”. I jumped in the air. I had nailed it and I knew it. Then, as if it came from above, I wrote, “only six miles from Lankville’s capital.” I couldn’t believe it.

The boss, he read the paper a couple of times over while he sat on the side of his desk smoking a cigarette. Eventually, he looked up.

“You wrote this, Igloos?”

I was really sweating. Didn’t help that I had an all-brown suit on that wasn’t breathing for shit.

The boss cleared his throat. “It’ll do,” he said.

I got the hell out of there. But later, at lunch, some of the fellows keyed me in.

“Yeah, the boss couldn’t believe your work, Igloos,” a guy named Jimmy told me. I’ll never forget him because he died later. “The boss was telling his secretary– this Igloos– he’s good. He’s real good” and then he phoned up the regional manager and told him he was putting you on all the quaint hotel accounts.” Jimmy slapped me on the back and I coughed up a bit of porridge. But I didn’t care– I had made it. It was going to be all uphill from there.

And it has been. I’ve been lucky. Married a lovely girl- not the same girl but another lovely girl with lovely hair. Cries a lot but what can you do?

Buck Igloos has been a feature reporter for The Lankville Daily News since 1993.