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A Trucker’s Food Challenge
Brian Schropp, Senior Cuisine Writer
BRIAN SCHROPP ON CUISINE
So there I was enjoying another endless summer day at the ‘Deep Northern Suburban Lankville Trucker’s Pool and Spa Association’. At some point earlier in the season someone found a water hose (which I guess was used for washing big rigs) and has been regularly keeping the pool and all the various kiddie pools filled with cool crisp hose water. It’s not only the water I enjoy but also talking with the truckers and hearing their road stories. Sure, when a large group of them get a little drunk they will force me to wear an adult diaper and I have to strut around and cluck like a chicken while they throw bottle caps at me for their amusement but I try not to take it too personally. Trucker Joe says that’s just the wild humorous nature of a Lankville trucker which makes them so special and it should actually be taken as a high honor. He says most ‘norms’ (non-truckers) are usually not allowed inside at all and the few that are don’t live to talk about it. The spa can look like a rough and harsh place to us on the outside but I find it actually be a warm and loving place to those they accept (as long as they don’t drink too much).
Anyway, Trucker Joe and I were sitting at the poolside basking in the sun and getting our ‘drink on’ from the bar (Joe, a nice bottle of a local brew ‘Scrub’s Delight’ and myself a nice tall glass of strawberry milk). After awhile various truckers began to set up folding tables near the pool area. At first I thought nothing of it but became curious when tablecloths were being placed on them.
Trucker’s families love to cram into a nice small kiddie pool.
“Say Joe, what’s going on? Is there going to be another ‘Trucker’s Fest’?”
A couple times during the summer they throw these all night parties by the pool. If this was the case I was going to make a quick exit, I would soon be clucking the night away.
Joe shook his head. “Oh no Bri, today is actually a special day for us members of the spa. You know how the norms have their own ‘Lankville Food Challenge’? Well, we truckers do our own! We figure if the outsiders think they’re good enough to crisp some bacon or open a can of Lankville Sausages then so can we. I didn’t want to tell you so it would a surprise.”
I was absolutely delighted!! I had heard tales of ‘trucker cuisine’ but never had the pleasure of trying it. I started to ask him about the rules and the judging of the event since the normal food challenge is a complicated affair.
“Nothing that advanced. We usually just set everything out and people decide which one is the best. The winner gets a 25% discount coupon for ‘Sweet Georgie’s Big Rig Wash’.”
“Are you going to enter something?”
Trucker Joe gave me his goofy grin. “Oh you bet thee, I’ve come close to winning a few times but always lose out. This year I think I have it.” He looked around to make sure no one was listening “Follow me, you can help me get it ready!”
Not only was I going to be sampling a sub-genre of food I had never tried but now I would be helping one of my closest friends in their own culinary endeavors. My imagination went wild on what possible delights Joe could have envisioned. Would it be anywhere near my recent brilliant brainstorm ‘Deep Northern Meat Bits Dinner Loaf Topped With Sweet Southern Lankville BBQ in A Green And Yellow Butter Sauce’? We went into one of the side buildings and he pulled out a cooler with his name on it from under a table. Again he looked around to make sure no one was about.
“I got this really good ham and swiss cheese at an ‘off the back of a truck’ discount. I know that sounds bad but it’s pretty good quality, I think the stuff never hit the road. Now what’s really going to win it for me is this fancy bread with black seedy things from ‘Foodville’. The bread is so soft and delicious, truckers never had bread this fancy before. I mean it, they have no concept that there is even a thing as fancy bread. I can tell you that their worlds will be rocked. Come on and help me make a few.”
Could a simple ham and swiss sandwich win?
It took me a moment to process that this was actually going to be his entry. “Joe, all you have is a ham and cheese sandwich. Everybody has had that before.”
“You’re not listening to me, it’s the bread that’s going to win it for me. It’s a fancy bread with black seedy things.” He paused giving me his ‘you must be the dumbest person in Lankville’ look.
“Well the bread is from ‘Foodville’– it can’t be that good. Anyways it looks like someone has already taken a bite out of most of these buns, did you get these at a discount to?” I wouldn’t put it past a ‘manager’ like Hank Cameron to peddle shifty bread.
Joe ignored my question and went on about his ‘culinary achievement’. He began to cut the ham and swiss out of the area where the Foodville bread was ‘damaged’– now it looked like somebody had taken a bite out of the whole thing. I began to question him if he really thought this idea was going to work especially when he mentioned there were going to be no condiments on the bread as well.
He waved me off. “You gotta trust me, I know what I’m doing.”
I left Joe to go out and try some of the other offerings. I really hoped he wouldn’t make too much of a fool of himself.
Most of the other truckers had their entries set up and ready to be judged. Being a ‘norm’ but a somewhat respected foodie, I was allowed to sample small portions. A big selection of the items were baked bean themed and among those a large percent were just open baked bean cans with stuff thrown in. I learned that most truckers don’t have time to prepare full meals while hauling freight over Lankville’s interstates and highways. They are just looking for good, simple but flavorful food. I felt proud to learn a new aspect of ‘trucker culture’ I didn’t know.
While pondering this Joe made his grand entrance. “Behold! A new kind of sandwich the likes of which you have never feasted on before!!” He came out holding two paper plates while the spa dogs danced around him (he is known in the trucker circles as a bit of a ‘drama queen’).
The crowd ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ as the plates were placed on the table. A few were afraid to try the sandwiches at first because of the black seedy things. Once they had a bite though their eyes glazed over in ecstasy. That was all it took, everyone wanted to try some. I had to help Joe make some more since the demand was so high.
“What type of bread is this?” one trucker asked.
Trucker Joe
“A fancy bread,” Joe replied.
“I didn’t know there were any other kinds expect ‘Lankville White’. Did you put the black seedy things on?”
“Nope, they came like that.”
“Amazing!!”
“Is this ham and swiss from that deli tractor trailer accident the other week?” another inquired.
“Yup”.
“Good choice. I heard the stuff never hit the road.”
It struck me that their food challenge didn’t need to be complicated or filled with any type of ‘advanced flavor profiles’. Trucker Joe actually did know what the people wanted and how to win. So kudos to him for easily winning that coupon to wash his big rig. He held the extra large coupon in the air while the music started to play from the spa speakers and a full-fledged party began. I got so caught up in Joe winning and thinking about the trucker culture I didn’t hear the chant of ‘cluck’,’cluck’,cluck’. It was too late and I found myself in the clutches of two extra strong trucker women who stripped me and threw a diaper on. I found myself clucking for the afternoon but if that was the cost for hanging around such fine folk then so be it.
Until next time dear readers, please keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas. Happy Eating!!-Bri
Schropp’s “Breakfast Sandwich Boy” Enters Bestseller List
By Elliott Cumber-Lanny
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
Brian Schropp’s recently-released book Breakfast Sandwich Boy has entered the Lankville Daily News Bestseller List, sources are confirming.
The collection of short stories by the popular cuisine writer ranked has sold over 100,000 copies in its first week of publication.
Schropp’s bestselling tome.
“I’m pleased,” Schropp noted. “I’m glad everyone is enjoying reading about my adventures in the Deep Northern Suburbs”.
Breakfast Sandwich Boy currently holds the 6th spot of Lankville’s 50 best-selling titles.
“While I’m lusciously delighted beyond belief, the strange thing about the book being a bestseller is that I’ve only received $12,” Schropp complained. “Whenever I call the publisher, nobody answers. A message comes on with a beep but then you only get two seconds to leave your message before it cuts off. It took me three hours to complete my message. But I’m hoping if they listen to all the messages in order, they’ll understand and send me a check.”
“I’m sure they will,” Schropp added cheerfully.
Breakfast Sandwich Boy features two original stories with a photograph of the author on the cover.
“People are inherently good,” said Schropp, who was interviewed while preparing a gigantic bowl of mysterious batter in his parents kitchen. “I know they will send me the money. It’s just a misunderstanding. I trust that people will always do the right thing.”
Schropp began laughing nervously and the gigantic bowl of batter accidentally spilled onto the floor.
“MOM!” Schropp yelled while running out of the room. The interview was ended prematurely.
THE FOOD CHALLENGE
By Brian Schropp
BRIAN SCHROPP ON CUISINE
“There’s gotta be something, Bri.”
Scott was starring off into space while absently tapping the buttons on the pizza sauce stained adding machine. I sat in the other (and not as nice) chair in his office swiveling in a semi-circle trying to shake the ideas out of my mind. The 43rd Annual Lankville Food Challenge was coming up in a few weeks and the qualifying round for our area in Deep Suburban Lankville was just a few days out. For some reason Scott got it in his mind that we needed to enter something not only to help make a name for the ‘Pizza-A-Round’ but also that it could be a stepping stone for him to do something greater. “I always thought there was a dream in the stars for me,” Scott remarked not so long ago in a drunken rant while driving me home. “This pizza trade has kept me down for too long- you can only cry in the sauce so long before you realize it’s your own fault.” From the lights of the passing lampposts I could see the tears start to well up in his eyes while the music from the local hard rock station, 103.5 ‘The Hammer’ played in the background.
Picture of my manager Scott relaxing at home.
If this was going to be Scott’s big break then we had some pretty stiff competition to beat just in the first round alone. ‘Sir Frank’s Medieval Theme Park’ was planning on entering their illustrious ‘Crown of Frankfurters’ and everyone in the area thought it was pretty unbeatable. Sure, there was only one actual crown now and it was in a plastic lucite case (please see my thrilling ‘Blood On the Crown’ articles from a few weeks ago for details) but thousands still flocked the theme park each week to gaze at its beauty. The ‘Mid-Morning Snack Pizza’ and ‘The Pizza Eggwich’, two personal inventions of mine from this year, were blockbusters for the pizza world but to win the actual Lankville Food Challenge it was going to take something more. And the ‘Lankville O’s Gelatin Dinner Time Surprise’ now had that warning- oh yeah I need to put the warning up:
You can only eat small amounts of my ‘Lankville O’s Gelatin Dinner Time Surprise’ in one sitting no matter what type of glue you use. It is now recommended to wait 48 to 72 hours after having one slice before having another. There is also a caution for pregnant women and children under 12 not to eat any at all.
Earlier in the day Scott had assembled a bunch of the pizza staff (Chet Cameron, Big James, Charlie ‘The Nugget Guy’ to name a few) into the office to have a ’round robin’ of sorts to see what ideas we could come up with. One by one he tossed them out (sometimes actually physically tossing them out) when they had no ideas or the idea wasn’t any good (like Big James just wanting to pour nacho cheese on every sub idea). As the hours ticked by the only one left was me.
The Crown of Frankfurthers- was it beatable?
“There’s gotta be something!!” he exclaimed again this time pounding the adding machine making it fly into the air. Naturally I was swiveling my chair right in that direction and with comical timing the adding machine smacked me right in the forehead. I hit the grody floor like a ton of bricks. I am not sure how long I was out but it had to be for a good moment. I remember Scott’s whiskey breath asking me if I was alright while shaking me. After getting up and staring at him, I had the winning food idea in my mind!! I grabbed a pizza sauce-stained pad of paper and quickly wrote out the recipe. I had no time to worry about his reaction it was happening all so fast. Scott snatched the paper and after looking it over the biggest smile appeared on his face. “Such a fuckin’ genius,” he muttered.
The ‘Pizza-A-Round’ was supposed to be open for another hour but Scott kicked everybody else out and turned off the phones, even my ‘cleaning team’ was sent home with a lot of washing still to be done. The place was now quiet for us to focus on making this new incredible food idea come to life. There were a few things Scott had to run out to the 24 hour convenience store to get– luckily most everything we needed we had in our freezers.
The process was a real trial and error affair with a rough start. Scott had his doubts and at one point complained, “Bri, this is so—-complex—can it even be done?” I did worry slightly, an idea that is so far ahead of its time can seem overwhelming but I was in my ‘Schropp Zone’ and felt anything was possible.
Could my new idea win the Lankville Food Challenge?
By the early morning I was taking the final creation out of the pizza oven. I had burnt my other attempts to a crisp, it was hard to judge the cooking times in such an oven. I learned you had to microwave most of the components first to warm them up. Unwrapping the foil and inhaling the aroma we knew we had a shot. “What are you going to call it?” he asked while grabbing a plastic spoon to sample. I didn’t tell Scott this but the name was the first thing in my mind with everything else following. It was long and described it perfectly. “It’s called-‘Deep Northern Meat Bits Dinner Loaf Topped With Sweet Southern Lankville BBQ Sauce in A Green and Yellow Butter Sauce.”
The first time Scott attempted to scoop a piece out, the plastic spoon broke. Getting a metal one and successfully scooping a bite he nodded his head. “Very good! Very good, Bri. We need to work on the presentation a little and it looks like the middle is still really raw but it’s a winner for sure. Shaping meat bits into a loaf is enough to rock any food judge off his feet then following that with the taste of the sweet BBQ sauce and all that butter. I mean that’s a shit ton of butter in there, I think we have a shot!”
I was happy Scott thought the final product was worthy. If this could help him break the ‘pizza chains’ that held him I was willing to give my all. I think he a great (but very misunderstood by most) manager. I will keep you updated dear readers on the results of this exciting new entry into the food challenge!! Until then please keep your minds and mouths open to new ideas, Happy Eating!!-Bri
A Tour Of My Local ‘Lankville O’s’ Processing Plant
Brian Schropp on Cuisine
Sometimes, my dear readers, your wishes really do come true. The news which I had secretly dreamed of since I was a little boy came via a tomato sauce-scented post card last week- ‘Lankville O’s’ CEO, Wally Denmark, was sending me a personal invitation to tour the local processing plant! It seems the company and Mr. Denmark himself have been quite pleased with not only my positive endorsement of everyone’s favorite canned pasta but also with my recipes incorporating them. What an honor!! Very few people are let into the doors to see ‘how the magic is made’ and even fewer get to see Mr. Denmark himself. The CEO was going to meet me at the plant to show me around!
Needless to say the night before the tour very few winks of sleep were had, I felt like that young boy again imagining what the inside of that processing plant was like. That morning waking up very early (7AM!!) I had my Mom prepare me a ‘Lankville O’s’ egg and scrapple sandwich with a generous side of ‘O’s’ with meat bits (my favorite type). My Dad offered to drive me there but the plant was so close it would be an easy walk.
My local processing plant 671B
The company is the number one job supplier to the Deep Northern Suburban Lankville area; there is one plant every .5 miles. Like the old saying goes- ‘If you are going to the Deep Northern Area don’t slip on any O’s!’ My local plant number was 671B.
Having never been to one or any other ‘working man’ type of plant before I was a little nervous about exactly where to enter and maybe having some type of large underpaid worker yell at me. As it turns out, I didn’t need to worry at all– it was like they were just waiting there to greet me! A small group of workers had a little red carpet rolled out and started clapping when I emerged from the nearby woods (the foot path was the quickest way to get there). Truckers, ready to roll out and deliver the goodness of the day, honked their horns and gave a friendly wave while I made my way across the parking lot. It was a delightful reception!
Once I made it to the group a sweaty, slightly nervous man who turned out to be the plant manager shook my hand while a few photos were snapped; then he quickly led me inside. The corporate offices were nothing to write home about even though the people were all very nice and stood and clapped while I was led through. The plant manager told me the CEO was in his private lounge (I think he has one in every plant) having a drink and anxiously awaiting my arrival. The lounge was tucked back behind the offices and seemed very spacious. The only two in there was the man himself and the bartender.
CEO Wally Denmark
“Please Bri,” said Wally Denmark, flashing me a warm smile. “Come over here and have a drink with me.”
I had the barkeep whip up a nice cold glass of strawberry milk (which had to be brought from the cafeteria since there was only hard alcohol stored in the bar).
“First off I hope my physical appearance does not disturb you. There are some nasty rumors going around saying I had these implanted into my forehead at a young age. Sure, I was a born billionaire and could have had that done but it’s really not true. This is just an unfortunate bone growth that only looks like horns. It does give the impression of absolute evil but I believe myself to be quite the opposite.” With the push of a button on the bar the plant manager came back in to nervously tell me how nice and supportive the CEO was. I told Mr. Denmark I was so excited about seeing the plant I didn’t even notice the horns.
“And I personally wanted to give you this tour not only for the mention in the paper which always helps sales but also because of your unique uses for the ‘O’s.”
“Glad you enjoy them.”
“Well I never tasted any of your ‘cutting edge ideas’ myself. You see, the last few months my company has been under what is known as a ‘hostile takeover’. Believe it or not some company out of the depths of Southern Lankville scrapped up enough money plus influence and tried to buy their way onto the Executive Board. I really thought they had me, these swine were right on the verge of getting into my company when I decided to have them over for dinner. They thought I was having them over so as a sort of ‘peace offering’– little did they know what was in store for them! My personal chef made a VERY generous helping of your “Lankville O’s Gelatin Dinner time Surprise’ and needless to say the group was soon gone. I feel a little indebted to you in a weird roundabout way.”
I didn’t understand what he meant. Did these folks take my recipe for their own purpose? I mean, I never kept it a secret. Ultimately, I decided I really didn’t care– I was just here to see the plant and told him so.
“Yes, let’s get this tour underway, I have ‘hostile takeovers’ of my own to work on later.”
Plant workers dong their best to make every can special
If you thought your typical ‘Lankville O’s’ processing plant was big from the outside you should see the inside!! We walked around the security railings which were on every level (Mr. Denmark doesn’t like to get himself dirty getting on the actual work floor). He rattled on about the facts and figures of the whole operation- how many cans were made each day at each plant and how much sauce it took etc etc. Would even go into detail about each machine and how it functioned. I’m sure he was telling me this so I could use the information for future articles. Embarrassingly however, in my excitement I left my notebook at home so no details were written down. I did enjoy watching all the employees hard at work trying to make each and every can special. I was trying my best to ignore all the ‘on site accidents’, the fingers and other body parts being sliced open or torn off with said parts just tumbling down the conveyor belts. Wally would shake his head and say “those things happen in big commercial operations.”
The ‘Killing Floor’
Getting to Know Your Local Restaurateurs
Brian Schropp
CUISINE BY BRIAN SCHROPP
The restaurant business is a crazy game. Especially in the depths of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville, you see the food establishments come and go with a reckless fury. So, what makes the good ones last? The taste palette of your typical Deep Northerner can be a complicated one indeed. You need the flavors to be deep, rich and bold- a true Deep Northerner will understand the taste of ‘Lankville O’s’ mixed in a tater tot casserole better than most. One person who is trying to get the answer right is a good friend of mine, Eddie. So far in all his culinary ventures it’s been a very mixed result. I sat down to interview him at his new place ‘Eddie’s’, a newer more upscale affair than his previous restaurant ‘Eddie’s Sub Shack’.
Unfortunately things seemed a little quiet in what should of been a very busy lunch time rush. Eddie was sitting over at a table piled high with bills while punching away at an adding machine ‘trying to make the numbers work’. He was also wearing a pretty nice bra that suited him well. Before getting into the food game Eddie was known around Deep Northern Suburban Lankville as the ‘weird dude who always walked around with a bra on’. He was a local sensation for awhile being in parades and such. I guess he thought his celebrity would help propel him to a successful food career.
Eddie- trying to make the food business work for him.
I took a seat pushing one of the stacks of bills away so I could see him.
“Hey Bri, just working on these figures and I gotta say it’s not looking very good. The expenses are far outweighing the people who are coming in and putting something in their mouths. I had high hopes of really making this new place as fancy as possible but I’m still using plastic utensils instead of nice silverware. In fact, I’m using the same plastic utensils over and over again since my budget will only allow for one pack.”
“Well I guess as long as you keep washing them that’s OK.”
“Yeah sure keep washing them. I need money for dish soap.”
“Are lunches always this slow?”
“Pretty much. As you can see I have a small buffet set up in the corner by that plastic plant. They say a buffet is a good way of drawing customers in but I’m not sure if it’s really working for me. I’m putting out what any Deep Northerner would look for. White bread with gravy, you can put the gravy on anything over there- the Canned Western Lankville Sausages, the cheesy pasta shells, the various meat bits. It’s good gravy, I got it at the store the other day at a good price. Also have some of those extra spicy nacho chips with a can of nacho cheese, I’ll open the can if someone is interested. Oh and a celery stick in case a person wants to put it with their food to make it look pretty.”
“Why are your bras hanging next to the buffet?”
“Oh, I’m offering a ‘Bra Buffet Special’. You can fill up both sides of the bra for $9.98, the bra cups are pretty deep so it’s a good deal.”
“Do you wash those?”
The ‘Bra Buffet Special’ $9.98 for BOTH cups.
“When I can. I’m a pretty clean guy, I wash at least a few times a week. In fact the one I am wearing now a guy used for my Monday ‘Lankville O’s’ buffet special. I had that canned pasta goodness in all sorts of packaged meat bits and discounted veggies microwaved to perfection. Well actually the dude just wanted to try on the bras which was fine because he paid for the buffet. These Monday buffets have been my most successful so far.”
“How many people have come?”
“Oh, so far only that guy.”
“Have you seen my recent recipe for the ‘Lankville O’s Gelatin Dinner Time Surprise’? Maybe you could modify something like that to help increase sales.”
“I have seen it!! Looks so wonderful but also just looks too complicated to make.”
“It is at first,” I admitted. “The trick is using the right amount of non-toxic glue. And please don’t try to microwave this one, if you’re going to make it you gotta turn on your stove.”
“I try not to use the stove for much cooking.”
“I guess it’s been kinda rough trying to establish yourself as a fancy restaurant yet having to do this more common buffet.”
“Very much so! If I could only sell this food that’s in the buffet then I could use that money to buy some slightly better food and so on until the money started to flow in. This stuff here can only be refrigerated so many times before it doesn’t even look right.”
“How is the dinner experience going?”
“A little better than the lunches, I go down to the local shelter and pick up what food they have left over to use. Most of the time the stuff looks OK, I use my culinary skills to rework most of it into more fancy dining food.”
“The ‘Maple Chicken’ I got here a few weeks ago was really good, I think I recognized the syrup you used, I use it all the time on my breakfast sandwiches.”
“It’s probably the same brand, I get it at the store real cheap.”
“You know how to keep a nugget crisp even when microwaving it, that’s a pretty impressive skill.”
“Thanks. Hey, who was that crazy dude you were with? The one who freaked out on you?”
“Oh that was my Therapist, Dr. Nickelbee.”
“I would stay away from him, Bri. Not only am I a restaurateur and bra wearer but I am also a ‘soul seer’. I use to travel around with a carnival– yes I did get paid for it but it’s something I really see. That man has a real tortured soul, one of the worst I have ever seen. His inner core is pure chaos.”
“Well, Eddie I really don’t have a choice. My folks are making me see him for his ‘services’, he’s very cheap which appeals to them.”
“Then please, my friend, use your special bumpkin sense around him and use caution.”
’The Maple Chicken’ which I had before.
Eddie is such a good friend. We talked for a bit more about the food business and before I left a customer even came in! The man was actually just looking for a pay phone but Eddie talked him into shelling out the $9.98 for the bra buffet. In the left cup he put some western canned sausages (sprinkling some of the meat bits on top)– the last part was my suggestion. The right cup was filled with the cheesy pasta and he didn’t take up my idea of putting on the gravy. I said the canned gravy is what really makes this buffet special but I guess not everyone wants to follow everything a trophy-winning food critic with my taste profile has to say.
The gentlemen started pushing his luck slightly– asking if any drink was included in the price. Eddie being the man that he is got some tap water and filled up both cups of another bra for him. Halfway through the customer was grumbling about being able to make this at home but that there was something quite ‘erotic’ about it. He asked if Eddie or myself would be putting on any type of show maybe using the other bras somehow. Eddie just shook his head no, the guy said if there was a show attached maybe it would be worth the price and next time he would bring his wife.
Two weirdos for the bra buffet in one week who would of thought!! I wish Eddie continued success in trying to make it in the rough and tumble food trade. If you get a chance please stop and try to support him for either lunch or dinner time dining. Just say you know me and I am sure he will break out the slightly cleaner plastic ware. Until next time dear readers please keep your mouths and minds open to new ideas. Happy Eating!!-Bri
Blood on the Crown, Part II
Brian Schropp
CUISINE BY BRIAN SCHROPP
There was a murder in the courtyard and chaos ensued. The Master Chef who had created the ‘Crown of Frankfurters’ had been stabbed in the back when the lights went out in the midst of a grand celebration. All those lovely people in their fancy renaissance outfits were now screaming and pushing fellow court members out of the way to make a quick exit. Trampled gowns, trampled foam swords, tears, black eyes. I managed to make it to the platform where ‘The King’ and ‘The Queen’ still stood.
‘The Crown of Frankfurters’
The King was shaking his head solemnly. “It’s really no use all of them running, security would have closed the castle walls. Only a few will be able to scale the wall itself before the spikes go up.”
“Why would someone kill the chef?” I asked, the little hotdogs that were still left jangling from my jester’s hat.
One of the ‘King’s Guard’ (a fat guy in a yellow t-shirt that said ‘security’) brought up the crown and placed it in the King’s hands. He raised it so the light would make the frankfurters sparkle. “Well Bri, it’s all because of this marvel. Somebody doesn’t want to me succeed, more than likely, they want to open a medieval hot dog theme park of their own. The best way would be to throw a wench in this, the hottest food idea of the year coming out. The news about the disaster will drive people away plus The Master Chef was the only one who knew the magical recipe.”
Over the chomping of The Queen’s gum I started to think of who would do such a thing. My thoughts kept wandering back to the person who I saw earlier in the park, Hank Cameron, Manager of Foodville. Sure, I didn’t have anything actually linking him to the crime but I knew the type of fiend he was. “Sir,” I said bowing to one knee. “I may know of the one.”
After explaining who Hank Cameron was the King shouted to his ‘King’s Guard’. “Bring me this man!!”
All the fat men of the guard shuffled out to find him. Things had finally calmed down in the courtyard at least– a good soul threw a blanket over the body of The Master Chef until some sort of authority figure would be called to take charge. Right now with the castle walls up it was all the King’s justice. A few minutes passed– I was talking with ‘The Queen’ (one of the King’s many mistresses) about the cool design on her nails when I heard a familiar voice from behind me. “There you are Bri!!”
Goofy Hotdog Guy- the true killer!!
Scott joined me on the platform in his traditional Deep Eastern Suburban Lankville outfit. I filled him in on all the details. I was glad he found me, I felt a little safer with him there and his firepower. It was soon after that the King’s Guard dragged in the whimpering, sniveling Hank Cameron with his family behind him. I guess looking back I did feel slightly bad for him but I also believe in what many Deep Northerners call ‘karmic justice.’
The battered and bruised who were still in the court gathered around the platform after Hank Cameron was brought to the front. For some reason The King’s voice became overly dramatic “Are you the man called Hank Cameron?!!!”
“Yes-yes.” His voice had taken a high-pitched nasal quality.
“You have been accused by this Hotdog Jester of killing The Master Chef and trying to make ‘The Crown of Frankfurters’ your own. How do you plea?!!”
I think Hank Cameron was too upset to really notice it was me. “I didn’t do anything I swear!!” To see such a man of authority reduced to a babbling mess was something.
The King’s eyes were cold and hard. He was about to pass judgement when an old lady wearing a robe with moons, stars, and hot dogs on it stepped out of the crowd holding a small crystal ball. Her free hand was waving over the ball while she was speaking. “My King, this is not the man who committed the evil act. The man who planted the blade is the one who is truly one with the hot dog!”
“What the hell does that mean?” The King questioned. Everyone was scratching their heads, who could that be? Most everyone here had such a deep passion and love for hot dogs.
From the corner of my eye I just happened to notice the goofy guy in the hot dog outfit who brought me here trying to sneak out. “It’s him!!” I said loudly pointing towards the door. The goof quickened his pace, I was pretty nervous the fat men of the King’s Guard wouldn’t be able to catch him. Scott pulled out one of his handguns and shot the fleeing frankfurter in BOTH knees, he’s always a good shot. Screaming in pain he was dragged before the King while Hank Cameron crawled away sobbing to his family.
The King had a tear in his eye. “Why would you, the goofiest hot dog of the court do something so foul and betray me?!”
Pausing in the pain the goof gave a twisted a smile. It looked like he was about to reply but instead the maniac pulled a small blade out in an attempt to kill the King!! Again Scott was on top of his game putting a bullet between his eyes.
After a moment of deep breathing, the King walked over to Scott and kissed his hand. “Sir, thank you for saving me. I am forever in your debt, maybe one day both the Northern and Eastern sides of Deep Suburban Lankville could put aside their trivial differences and live as one.”
Scott- now an honorary member of the ‘King’s Guard’
“Whatever, if you owe me a favor can you get me the numbers of those two rather busty barmaids you have working for you?”
The King smiled “Someone bring me their employee files!!” Everyone on the court cheered and the party started up again like nothing had even happened. The music was playing and even better, plates of food were coming back out. Among the best was another new idea called “Micro Dogs” delightful miniature hot dogs that hit the spot.
I watched while the King place ‘The Crown of Frankfurters’ in a glass box. “This is the only one now Bri. we must take care of it. A shame it will never be eaten.” Now a tear was coming to my eye.
Sometime later the castle walls must of been opened because Gee-Temple came in with a few cops. He wanted to see the bodies but somehow during all the merriment someone removed both bodies without anyone noticing. Also no one could find the old lady with the crystal ball. Hank Cameron wanted to file charges against me and just about everyone there but the King gave his family lifetime passes to the park. I guess no report was made.
On the car ride back Scott seemed pretty pleased with himself rocking out to Lankville’s hard rock station 103.5 ‘The Hammer’. He was given a special pin- a hotdog with the words ‘King’s Guard’ scribbed into the bun. He had put it on his traditional Deep Eastern Suburban Outfit, maybe, just maybe there was hope for all the suburban areas to come together some day,
Until next time dear readers- keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas. Happy Eating!!-Bri
Blood on the Crown
Brian Schropp on Cuisine
I couldn’t believe my luck, me of all people the winner of two FREE passes to ‘Sir Frank’s Medieval Hot Dog Theme Park’!! Since the place opened last year it’s become the hottest attraction around Deep Northern Suburban Lankville. Oh, the tales I have heard coming out of those castle walls! Combining elements of modern renaissance fantasy with delicious innovative hot dog inspired dishes, no wonder it’s a big hit!!
Since I won the passes from work (listening to ‘Kooky’102.9 Lankville’s Home of Good Time Oldies) and using the ‘Pizza-A-Round’s’ telephones (only hung up on a few customers) my manager, Scott said I had to take him.
Now Scott wouldn’t of been my first choice to take. Don’t get me wrong– he’s a OK guy just not what I would call a ‘culinary expert’ per say. He’s more of a ‘puking up nachos in the back of a loose woman’s car at 2AM’ sorta food guy. But here we were beyond the castle walls and dare I say the whole place was wonderful and enchanting!! To be honest I was a little worried about being with Scott at first. He had decided to dress in traditional Deep Eastern Suburban Lankville clothing. “It’s my roots Bri, if some northerner has a problem with it then we can have ‘words’.” Luckily he was already a little drunk and just the charm of the place swept him up and put him in a good humor.
’Sir Frank’s Medieval Hot Dog Theme Park’
I instantly got a ‘Sir Duke’s Weenie’ with extra relish and a “Pointed Frank” stuffed with creamy cheese filling. The tales were so true– these dogs did not disappoint!! Where did they get such top of the line franks from? I also got Scott a few things to keep him happy (my folks made sure I had plenty of cash on me). He particularly enjoyed the ‘Bishop’s Dogetty Wiener’ which was two franks stuffed into one bun.
We walked around the various tents and cardboard facades which were made to look like medieval shops in wonderment. How much medieval hot dog related merchandise could there possibly be? The answer-A LOT!!
I wanted to buy Scott a ‘I’m Goofing Around With A Wiener’ t-shirt but they were out of stock on his size.
“Gotta be a Triple-XL, Bri, I gotta’ have room to move,” he noted.
’Sir Frank’s Medieval Hot Dog Theme Park’
The only dark spot at this point was seeing Hank Cameron, manager of Foodville there with his ‘family’. I haven’t seen my arch nemesis in quite awhile and in fact I still had to legally be so many feet away from him. It was pretty crowded so I figured if I just kept my distance things would be fine.
Scott and I stopped to watch a wonderful group of renaissance singers sing songs about hot dogs. They had drawn quite a crowd with kids dressed in foam knight outfits running about waving foam hot dogs which looked like swords. Such a magical experience to watch unfold.
At this point Scott saw rather two well-endowed bar maids heading over to the more adult drinking area of the theme park. “Well Bri, I’ll catch up with you in a little bit.” So I was left alone to my adventure along the cobble stone streets. It was a little while later (after stopping at the Dog Eat Dog Cafe for lunch) that some goofy guy in a hot dog costume (who seemed to be in a hurry) stopped me.
“Hey you’re Brian that cuisine writer for the paper, right?”
After saying I was he grabbed my wrist and started to drag me along with him. “You’re just in time-there is about to be a huge food unveiling at the main castle!! Some say it’s going to be the grandest medieval hot dog revel of all time. The King and the Queen will even be there!!”
Delightful renaissance singers singing ballads about hot dogs
Having no real time to process what was going on I went with the flow. The ‘main castle’ is usually heavily guarded by the ‘King’s Guard’ (fat guys in yellow t-shirts that say security on the back) but with this goofy guy in the hot dog suit we got in pretty easy.
He led me up and down many steps and then through a courtyard that eventually led back into the castle and we were soon in a glorious ballroom. There were many women and men dressed in their royal finest. The goof introduced me to a few “lads and lasses” as he called them and many knew who I was- I felt like a mini celebrity almost!! Everyone was in a big flutter over this unveiling and were glad I was here to cover it for the paper. Someone even put a jester’s hat on me with little hot dogs dangling off them. It was a big laugh!!
The goofy guy in the hot dog outfit
Soon the grand entrance was upon us, a bunch of guys dressed in appropriate courtyard attire came racing in lining up to blow their horns. The goof in the hot dog suit said loudly “Here comes the King!!” Everyone applauded as ‘The King’ (the owner) and ‘The Queen’ ( I heard it’s usually some woman who he is currently cheating on his wife with) came in waving. The King got up on a podium to speak. He proceeded to make a small speech on how excited he was to see all the donors to the park present and then began talking up the newest food item that would be on their menu. The King proclaimed it would put ‘Sir Frank’s’ on the map for all of Lankville, this was a top secret project known only to his master chef and a few select others. He then swept his arms, “Ladies and Gentlemen I give you—THE CROWN OF FRANKFURTERS!!!!”
The horns started up again and the master chef rolled in a huge table with ‘The Crown Of Frankfurters’ at the center. Everyone of the court (myself included) were just in awe. Our mouths were open but unable to speak. I now knew what it must have felt like at the first board room meeting when they invented ‘Lankville O’s’. The whole ‘crown’ seemed to have an unearthly glow around it almost like if you took a bite the taste would send you straight to eternal happiness.
”I give you–THE CROWN OF FRANKFURTERS!!!”
Out came the ladies who were singing earlier to perform again. It seemed like the joy of the event would not end. Sadly things were about to take a dark turn-the lights went out followed by a blood curdling scream and then mass chaos. I felt myself being bumped into by fleeing royalty in the dark, someone may have took a small wiener or two off my jester’s hat. When the lights were finally turned back on the King’s master chef lay dead on the floor with a knife in his back and ‘The Crown Of Frankfurters’ was gone!! How could this have happened? Who would do such a thing? Next week I will give you the chilling details. Until then keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas, Happy Eating- Bri!!
Odds and Ends by Brian Schropp
Brian Schropp on Cuisine
After the events surrounding the pizza delivery to President Pondicherry (please see my last two thrilling articles), there is both good and bad news. The good being that the President was very pleased to hear about our fast professional service of bringing the ‘Mid Morning Snack Pizza’ to the three presidential dogs (all named Mr. Peepers). Unfortunately, he also decided to name the ‘Pizza-A-Round’ the best place to get your pets a pizza. Which believe me– any endorsement from Pondicherry is great but this isn’t actually what Scott was hoping for. I went hard to work in trying to come up with a few ideas to capitalize off this and try to keep my manager’s spirits up (otherwise bloodshed was sure to follow). My efforts are turning out to be a bit of a struggle. I had to use a bit of my own money to purchase a can of dog food (had no choice but to let Chet Cameron pick it up from Foodville since they had it the cheapest) which I then put on your basic cheese pizza to run through the oven. The results were pretty disastrous. After airing out the place and calling an ambulance (some guests in our dining area said they were feeling ‘sick’ because of the smell) Scott told me if I pulled something like that again it would be ‘end days’ for me.
My manager Scott relaxing at home.
Honestly, I’m not too worried about it, I know he is just frustrated by the whole ordeal. The other day we had a customer come in and ask innocently enough if we carried actual dog food now since the “Lankville Pet Palace” was closed. Without listening to reason Scott jumped the counter and chased after the guy. A little while later after Scott came back some of us at the pizza shop tried to ask what happened but he was silent on the matter. So please if you were that customer can you please contact me via the paper so I know you are OK?
In other exciting news my friend, Trucker Joe told me about a new exciting tattoo trend at his favorite hangout “The Deep Northern Suburban Lankville Trucker’s Pool and Spa Association” and that tattoo is of me!!!
The now trendy BSS tattoo.
“They have really taken a shine to you there,” Trucker Joe was telling me as we both lounged in tubs at ‘Subs ‘N’ Suds yesterday. “I think it looks pretty cool. One guy, Carl has it on his bicep just above his ‘I heart Mom’ tattoo. Carl looks mean on the outside, inside he is just a big softie. He was telling me with a slight tear in his eye how much he liked talking to you about food, said it reminded him of talking to his Granddad about breakfast sandwiches on the front porch swing as a kid. Now he says his Granddad just haunts him in his dreams. I think he might of knifed him as a teenager over some sort of trucker’s dispute. Anyways, “Sassy Molly’ got one too, pretty sure she has a thing for you– always saying how ‘cute and chubby’ you are. You might be able to see it for free but she’s got it in a spot other truckers have to pay to see.”
I’m glad Trucker Joe was able to pull some strings at the tattoo parlor so I could share it with you.
I find it a great honor and one I do not take lightly. I feel a strong kinship with all the male and female truckers of Lankville– their sense of the open wonder of the road, our same fear of Highway 71 (also known as ‘The Badlands’) and most importantly our wonderful huge appetites. Keep on truckin’ my friends!!
And lastly, I have been receiving many letters through the paper about sharing some of my ‘cutting edge’ culinary recipes I work on at home. So here is one of my more recent creations– ‘Lankville O’s Gelatin Dinner Time Surprise’. Ingredients you will need- one can of ‘Lankville O’s’, one prepackaged box of gelatin (any flavor would do, I prefer the red or green stuff), prepackaged tomato bits, any other vegetable or meat scraps you might think will work (I have found both ham and scrapple work very well), a couple big cups of sugar and an extra canned processed tomato sauce.
The very delightful ‘Lankville O’s Gelatin Dinner Time Surprise’
Now take a baking pan placing the gelatin, Lankville O’s, tomato bits, all your scraps of meat, veggies, couple of big cups of sugar, and then mixing it all together into a big ‘ball shape’. The gelatin should act as a sticking agent holding it tight– if you feel it does not have enough ‘form’ I would recommend adding a half can of thick mayonnaise or even a little bit of non-toxic glue or paste. After your ball shape is formed you add on the extra processed tomato sauce then salt and pepper to taste. Now, cooking times will vary depending on what you put in it, I have found microwaving this IS NOT AN OPTION (sorry mom will be buying you a new microwave with next paycheck). I would say use a slow heating time to let all those flavors work in together, once you see the top and edges start to brown it will be done shortly. After letting it cool down please dig in and enjoy!! I found the sweet and savory taste to be very pleasant almost like a dinner and dessert all in one course!! Another option you might want to try is going for more of the dessert side and adding marshmallows with some caramel sauce on top. However you wish to make this stunning culinary idea your know I only wish simply that it’s enjoyed!
Until next time dear reader, keep your mouth and mind open to new ideas, Happy Eating-Bri
Pizza for Pondicherry, Part II
Brian Schropp on Cuisine
The minutes were counting down to the most important pizza the ‘Pizza-A-Round’ would ever make. You could start to see the crust coming through the pizza oven and in turn men’s hearts beating faster. The other components for the’ Mid Morning Snack Pizza’ needed to be in place.
“Where the hell are the nuggets Charlie?!!” my manager, Scott asked not so nicely while cleaning the actual pizza box it was going in. Everything had to be pristine since this was going to President Pondicherry himself, nothing less would do.
“In the fryer now,” Charlie the nugget guy yelled over. “You said you wanted them as crisp as possible so I waited to the last minute. Don’t worry they will be done.” Scott probably wouldn’t trust anyone else saying that. But Charlie the Nugget Guy was a seasoned veteran– he knew what he was doing.
“Burgers and fries– someone tell me about them!!” Scott was using the cleanest pizza rag possible to clean the edges of the box.
Chet Cameron, one of the best.
Al Slappy was in charge of those– maybe not the best guy under pressure. “I-I forgot the ketchup on the cheeseburgers– gotta open up the buns to put it on!!” We all know that’s a dicey situation– the bun could be damaged with the melting cheese sticking to the burger.
Scott gave a sideways glance which would make the hardest of men’s heart stop. “You better pray to whatever God you do that you don’t fuck this up. Lou get over there and help him, make sure the buns are ok and the fries are going to be ready.”
‘Two Toe’ Lou was another veteran who should of been doing it in the first place. He had only two toes from the multiple times fryer oil fell on his feet, that’s how long he has been in the game.
The pizza was a quarter way out of the oven, so far looking good. The best person on the line and probably one of the best of all time, Chet Cameron (nephew of Hank Cameron, manager of Foodville) slapped the dough out and sauced it.
‘Big’ James who is in charge of the nachos ran up with a paper cup that was full to the brim cheese. “Got this ready Scott!!”
“There is no motherlovin’ nacho cheese on this pizza!” Scott smacked the cup right out of ‘Big’ James’s hands causing the boiling hot cheese to splatter into the large man’s face. He ran off screaming, some were really losing it under the pressure.
I was back by this time– cleaned up as best as I could. Not only did this pizza have to be perfect but we needed to get there ridiculously fast. There were no drivers who were going to make it back in time so I was going to have to run it. Yes, it was an impossible task but we had no other choice.
My manager Scott relaxing at home.
Scott grabbed my shoulders and looked me up and down. “Guess it will do,” he kept muttering under his breath. Then he yelled, “Melvin bring over one of the CBs and some duct tape!”
“Why?”
“JUST DO IT!!!” Most of us who worked at the Pizza-A-Round had the feeling thatour new assistant manager, Melvin wasn’t going to make it through the night.
Scott took the CB and the duct tape and strapped the unit around my chest and the receiver around my ear. “You won’t be able to respond this is just for me to yell at you in hopes that it will help.”
The pizza was coming out of the oven, Scott raced back over and grabbed the oven peel. With the skill of a true pizza veteran he scooped it out perfectly and placed it squarely in the box. There was some light applause but Scott didn’t have any time for that. “Nuggets now!!”
Charlie the nugget guy was over with two huge oven mits holding the deep fryer net, the nuggets were still sizzling when they hit the pizza.
“Burgers and fries!! Burgers and fries!!”
Al Slappy brought the fries over the same way, then ran back and got two cheeseburgers. He handed them to Scott.
“I needed three cheeseburgers!! Pondicherry ordered an extra freakin’ one!!!” It was almost an inhuman yell.
‘Two Toe’ Lou limped past Al with a third cheeseburger. He had quickly realized the mistake and rushed to make another one. Somehow during this process he lost another toe which we could clearly see (for some reason Lou only wore beach sandals which could of been half the problem). Right now that couldn’t be the top concern. With everything on the pizza itself the box was closed immediately to keep it at its hottest. The box was placed in my hands.
No words were exchanged between Scott and I–his eyes told the whole story. I also knew there would be plenty of yelling coming my way through the CB taped to my ear. Without missing a beat Scott moved to the front door shoving customers out of the way while I followed closely on his heels. I wished that annoying girl and her boyfriend were coming in right now instead of a few minutes earlier, I would have LOVED to see those two get knocked down.
The Mid-Morning Snack Pizza which retails for $29.95
As fate would have it I could see both of them laughing at me from the front window of the dining area when I was out on the sidewalk. I didn’t have much time to process it with Scott’s foot hitting my backside. “Run!!”
I started with a light jog since this wasn’t usually my thing but with Scott yelling at me from behind I was worried he would simply shoot me and try running it himself. I was in a full run (sweat already dripping from under my ‘Pizza-A-Round’ cap) by the time my booty was out of the parking lot and onto the road.
It was of course the evening rush hour and the roads were super super crazy. Things were made even more difficult with me sticking to the actual road and not the sidewalks in hopes of taking the most direct route possible. Cars were swerving out of the way, honking their horns, shaking their fists, even spitting at me. I kept yelling “Presidential pizza delivery!!” at the top of my lungs while the sweat poured down my face in hopes that would help. No luck, I think the drivers just couldn’t hear me. It also didn’t help matters with Scott yelling in my ear telling me to “hurry up” and “move my big ass faster”. I knew he didn’t mean most of the hateful things he would say over the CB, in fact we are actually pretty good friends, he was just stressed out.
A small ray of hope came when my former therapist, Dr.Nickelbee came driving slowly up behind in his electric car causing a traffic mess of his own. He rolled down his window. “Bri I need to talk with you.”
“Not now can’t you see I am making a Presidential pizza delivery?” I replied between heavy breaths.
“It’s important. We can talk while I drive you.” What choice did I have?
He pulled the little car over and I got in. As always, he put his hand on my knee right away. “Listen, I need to apologize to you about the way I acted the other day during our session.” (Please see my article from a few weeks ago for the details). “It was so wrong for me to lose it like that.”
“It’s OK, no worries, can you just drive now? I need to make this delivery.” The screaming in my ear wouldn’t let me forget.
Dr. Nickelbee paused for a second before collapsing into a full crying breakdown– banging his head against the steering wheel. “I just don’t want to lose you as a patient.”
“We need to go!” I could the feel the pizza losing its warmth from the box which was on my lap.
“I need you to tell me I can be your therapist again.”
“JUST DRIVE!”
“JUST SAY IT!!”
“Yes-yes now drive!”
Dr. Nickelbee– what is his problem?
With that we were off with Dr. Nickelbee still sobbing. His electric car is very slow and soon I realized it was probably quicker with me running again. It really didn’t matter– a few blocks later the car came to a stop, I guess the battery had died. He got out still sobbing, banging his fists up and down on the hood of the car. I couldn’t stop to deal with this. I was out of the car and on my way again leaving him to deal with the angry commuters he was holding up.
It was then that the problem of super squirrels came into play. Once they smelled the delicious aroma of the ‘Mid Morning Snack’ goodness and sensed that I was alone they were on my tail. I eventually had to raise the pizza above my head in an attempt to keep it safely intact. I kept shooing them off as best as I could without stopping. The only good thing to come out of the situation was when one of the squirrels bit through the CB wire, stopping the yelling in my ear.
When I finally made it to the presidential grounds the sun was starting to set and I knew I was far too late. And I knew that the ‘Pizza-A-Round’ would be going down in flames like the many others who attempted a quick delivery to our chief executive.
I slowly walked up to the guard booth where I was warmly greeted by the person on duty. He had gratefully shot at the super squirrels chasing them away when he saw me coming. “Say there son you sure are a big stinky sweaty mess.”
I handed over the box mumbling about trying to get there as quick as possible and if there was anybody to blame it was Dr. Nickelbee holding the whole thing up and he should go to prison. Then a desperate plea not to shut down my place of work.
When he realized what I was talking about the guard started to chuckle. “Say son, this pizza isn’t for the President, do you think he would eat crap like this?” The guard whistled and Pondicherry’s three dogs (all named Mr. Peepers} came running out. The guard open the box and then put it on the ground so the dogs could go to town on it. “He ordered this for these lovable mutts before vanishing into one of his underground bunkers for the night. There was no hurry in bringing it– hell, it could been another hour if need be.”
That dear readers is just another crazy night in the pizza trade. Until next time, please keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas. Happy eating- Bri
Pizza for Pondicherry, Part I
Brian Schropp on Cuisine
It was late afternoon at the ‘Pizza-A-Round’ when I heard the commotion up front. It sounded even more intense than the usual ‘beginning of the early dinner’ rush so I left my ‘managerial sink’ to investigate. The focal point of this chaos was front and center in the phone area. My manager, Scott and the new assistant manager (we go through assistant managers very quickly), Melvin were fluttering all over the place screaming and yelling. This in turn was sending the phone staff into complete nervous wrecks.
“Get Sharkie on the CB and see if he’s made that delivery to Deep Eastern Lankville yet!!” Scott yelled to Melvin.
My manager Scott relaxing at home.
We use what Scott calls an ‘advance’ CB system system with our drivers to ensure speedy deliveries. The central giant CB is located right outside of Scott’s office next to the phones. Melvin put on the headset and flicked a few of the giant switches. “Pizza Break 5-Pizza Break 5 this is home base-over-can you give me a locale on your delivery-over-” After a moment Melvin shook his head. “He’s caught up in traffic on the East Side, will be about another 20 minutes before he even makes it to the actual delivery.”
“Well he’s going to be caught up in a lot more when he gets back.” We knew from the expression on Scott’s face that this could be Sharkie’s last night on this planet.
Scott saw me looking on and his face lightened a little. “Guess what, Bri? Someone big just ordered one of your ‘Mid Morning Snack Pizzas’ with an extra cheeseburger. I’m not talking big like ‘Big’ James who runs the nacho station, I mean big in name. None other than President Pondicherry himself!”
I was taken aback for a moment. “Wow!! If he likes it and word starts to get around–”
“Big things Bri, very big things. HUGE THINGS. Ever thought this place could have it’s own private jet? Might be a reality if—”
The Mid-Morning Snack Pizza which retails for $29.95
The downside hit me all at once and I knew the need for panic. I finished the sentence “—we can get it there quickly.”
There is a long history of President Pondicherry ordering from pizza places, then the place failing to get it there ‘fast enough’. Some of the best of the best– ‘Crust-A-Must’, ‘Three Fat Guys And One Skinny Guy Pizzeria’, and ‘Elbows Deep in Sauce’ crumbled after not making the cut. Sure they were fast but no 15 or 30 minute guarantee is good enough for the President. If he wants a pizza he wants it that second.
“Can someone from the line give me an ETA on the pie?!! I need someone on the fries and cheeseburgers in a few. Where is Charlie the nugget guy? I want those nuggets CRISP!!!” A slight sweat was forming on Scott’s brow.
Outside of the “Pizza Eggwich” this particular pizza is the most complicated to make. Each section, the cheeseburgers, the fries, the nuggets are like a piece of the overall puzzle with each part to be done at the correct moment to ensure the best result. And we needed this one to be the best ever!!
“Melvin, see who else is on the road and can be here in three minutes. I want this out the door after dropping it in the box.” Melvin called around on the central CB and soon looked at Scott just shaking his head. I knew Melvin was going to be a goner before too long.
Scott looked directly at me. “Bri, you’re going to need to run this one.” For a moment all commotion stopped in the “Pizza-A-Round”. The only sound was a pizza cutter hitting the floor.
“But-but Scott the Presidential House is clear across town!!”
My most important customer ever?
“We have no choice in the matter. By the time any of these drivers came back and got back out on the road it will be way too late. I know the pizza will be heavy, I know it’s going to weigh you down some. But don’t worry– just stick to the main highways and weave in and out of traffic. People might slow down if you keep yelling that you’re making a Presidential pizza delivery but they would need to hear you so it’s unlikely. Not with that soft, gentle voice of yours.”
I started to complain and whine but it was no use. I knew Scott well enough that the look in his eyes meant there was no alternative.
“Go get yourself cleaned up, you’re a soppy wet mess. You have two minutes before it’s ready.”
I stumbled off mentally preparing myself when I noticed that the annoying girl who is in here all the time with her boyfriend was waiting to be seated (we have a small ‘dining area’ in a room right off the entrance). I grabbed two menus and led them to a table. With all that was happening I sorta mumbled that someone would be with them in a moment and started to walk off accidentally hitting the side of another table with my leg. The girl giggled (she never says anything) and then her boyfriend whispered something in her ear which made her laugh out loud. I had no time for this– I was moments away from beginning the run of my lifetime. A run that could make or break me.
Please join me gentle readers for my next article where I will give you the thrilling details about delivering a pizza to our very own President. Until then keep your mind and mouths open to new ideas. Happy Eating!!-Bri
Brian Schropp on Cuisine
Brian Schropp on Cuisine
Yesterday I had yet another appointment with my therapist, Dr. Nickelbee. My parents have been making me go more and more often because he is offering them such cheap rates. I have tried to tell them about some of the more uncomfortable things he does during our sessions but they say I’m just doing my usual ‘over exaggerating’.
So there I was on his small therapist couch smelling the flavor of his gum (because he was WAY too close) and enduring the rubbing of my leg like I was some prized pet.
“Bri, you have made such progress in the little time we have been together. Your tortured soul is like a multi-layered taco dip with us taking each layer carefully, putting it on our mouths and tasting what needs to be fixed.”
I felt like we had made zero progress; I was also slightly embarrassed when my stomach rumbled at the mention of the taco dip.
Eddie, former owner of ‘Eddie’s Sub Shack’ now trying something more upscale.
“Your food articles are helping you open up more which in turn is getting us to more layers of the dip, the deep down dark good bits, the stuff I really want to hear about (he squeezed my knee really hard). We just have one problem, I feel like you are limiting yourself in what you are willing to try and write about in your articles. It’s all fun and cute writing about some greasy pizza stuff or unhealthy breakfast sandwiches but you need to try penning more complicated and refined taste profiles.”
I tried to assure him I knew all about complicated taste profiles, he just needed to try a ‘Pizza Eggwich’ if there was any doubt. This just made him squeeze my knee even harder.
“Stop being so defensive big guy. I have booked us a table at a restaurant called “Eddie’s”. I hear from all my other therapist friends that this is a true cutting edge culinary establishment, a little more ‘upscale’ shall we say. Looking at a menu on-line the prices are expensive which means it must be good.”
I doubted he had any therapist friends or any friends in general. The last thing I wanted to do was spend more time with him. I tried using the excuse that I didn’t have any money to help pay for this expensive meal.
“Don’t worry, I told your folks all about this brilliant idea of mine so they will be talking with your manager, Scott at the ‘Pizza-A-Round’ about you picking up some extra shifts to cover the expenses.”
After much eye rolling we were off and went in Dr. Nicklebee’s “wonderful, progressive and good for the environment” electric car. I thought it was just small and cramped which only continued his need to keep putting his hand on my leg. Luckily the ride didn’t last long because the car started to slow down after about a block then die completely a few minutes after that.( I guess the battery only keeps a charge for so long.)
So we were walking it the rest of the way with me secretly hoping no one would recognize me with this fool (we were only a few blocks away now from my home in Deep Northern Suburban Lankville). As we neared the shopping center it dawned on me where we might be going.
“There used to be a place called ‘Eddie’s Sub Shack’ in here. It wasn’t upscale at all in fact it got closed because of health violations. I thought the food wasn’t too bad but most people did. I think the only reason he had customers was he accepted Lankville food stamps. Oh, he also didn’t wear a shirt and usually wore a woman’s bra, that freaked people out.”
Dr. Nickelbee just shook his head and thought I was making up more ‘stories’. I was proven right when we walked into ‘Eddie’s’ and were greeted by the man himself.
“Hey Bri.”
“Hey Eddie.”
Dr. Nickelbee looked around and was clearly not impressed with the establishment. To me it was the same old restaurant filled with green plastic tables and chairs. The only difference I could make out were the floors being slightly more clean and the tables had little vases on them with flowers (many of the flowers were old and dying).
“This-this is the ‘Eddie’s’ I saw on-line? The one which said it was upscale and the food was expensive?”
Eddie nodded “Yes. Food here is very upscale and very expensive. Good-good, fancy like.”
The maple chicken.
We were shown to our table and given some menus. Again, Dr. Nickelbee wasn’t very impressed with the sticky one-sided menu written in marker but I looked past that at some of the amazing featured items. I wanted to try the ‘hotdog and scrapple potpie delight’ and the ‘deviled eggs in a mysterious cream sauce casserole’. Of course Dr. Nickelbee countered, “remember why we are here Bri, to try things out of your comfort zone. I don’t mean to put you down but I am the professional here.”
So he talked over me when Eddie came back and ordered the ‘maple chicken’ and the ‘fancy pasta with pork and quiche’. He would of course pick out the two most boring sounding items on the menu. While we waited for the food he babbled on about how I should learn ‘real food culture’, I tuned him out and turned my thoughts to the food that was coming. Once served (it did take a while, good food does) you can guess who wasn’t head over heels for it.
“What is this crap?!!! It looks like chicken nuggets over some maple syrup with a waffle thrown in!”
“Good-good. Real fancy like.” Eddie replied before walking away.
I stuck to my motto which I knew in my heart-‘keep your mouth and mind open to new ideas’. “Really this isn’t too bad. They’re using my favorite maple syrup from the store, I use it on my breakfast burritos all the time. They could of nuked the chicken nuggets a bit longer that’s my only real complaint.”
Dr. Nickelbee started to go on about how this wasn’t what he had in mind but I wasn’t listening. My eyes glazed over and I heard the faint chorus of bumpkins. I reached for my ‘little notebook of ideas’ I carry in my back pocket, inspiration had struck.
“What are you doing?!! You’re suppose to be listening to me!!”
After a few moments of writing I looked him dead in the eye– “Pizza Waffles. Just gotta find a way to connect both together—ham or Northern Lankville bacon? Syrup or not? Gotta do some experimenting at work…”
My dining companion was getting more irate. I began to question if he was maybe a little bit jealous of my creative ideas. Or even if his continued put-downs of my taste profile were just a cover of not having his own.
The real poop hit the ceiling fan (sorry Mom for that expression but I did witness that happen in this very establishment a few years back) when the next course came out.
“LANKVILLE O’S!!!! YOUR FANCY PASTA IS JUST CANNED LANKVILLE O’S!!” Dr. Nickelbee screamed.
A little side note in case you didn’t know- Lankville is known all over the world for the ‘Lankville O’s’. We were the first to mass produce little tiny pasta put in an ‘o’ shape and then canned in tomato sauce. Many have tried to make their own version and there even been wars. I can proudly say I think we still make the finest and also proud that we have a processing plant right here in the heart of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville which employs 60% of the lesser local population.
“Dr. Nickelbee please calm down,” I countered. “You don’t want to upset people by putting down ‘Lankville O’s’. It can turn ugly fast.”
Fancy pasta with pork and quiche.
His face was turning bright red. “BUT IT’S CHEAP PASTA–JUST LIKE YOU–I BET YOU WERE CALLED ‘CHEAP PASTA’ IN SCHOOL–YOU DISGUST ME SWIRLING THAT SAUSAGE IN THAT CHEAP TOMATO SAUCE—”
Turns out mixing some of the ham (loose meat) and sausage on the plate with the tomato sauce from the ‘Lankville O’s’ wasn’t so bad. I’m sure if we had a way at the ‘Pizza-A-Round’ of coming up with a sauce which was half as good we could make something that would put us over the edge of our rivals.
I was brought back to reality with Dr. Nicklebee screaming “I HATE YOU-I HATE YOU” over and over again and running out the front door. I was glad there was only a handful of people dining at the time– an older couple sharing a plate of ‘deviled eggs in a mysterious cream sauce casserole’ (later on they would tell me it was pretty good) and a homeless man sleeping at a table in the far corner (I guess you technically can’t count that as dining).
Eddie came over and I related the whole story to him. He was nice enough to charge me for just one of the meals ($24.95) and we agreed that if I didn’t touch the quiche (which looked gross anyway) he could serve it to someone else. Luck was also on my side since I wasn’t too far from home after such a fulfilling meal. Thanks again Eddie (and by the way nice bra today).
Now I’m sure the question on your mind is will my parents make me stop seeing Dr. Nickelbee after seeing this article? I will keep you informed my gentle readers. Until next time please keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas. Happy eating-Bri
Trucker Joe’s Tales of the Road
Brian Schropp on Cuisine
My friend Trucker Joe loves his big rig tales. I get the impression from his countless stories that the Lankville Highway and Interstate system is a huge mangled mess that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. Being that I have no license of my own (I become a “bag of nerves” whenever I try to take the driving test) I really don’t know if his stories are totally true or slightly embellished. When I’m with my folks they don’t seem to have a problem navigating around but Joe always counters that they don’t REALLY REALLY get out there and that they stick close to the burbs (plus I usually just “zone out” in the back of the car thinking of new food adventures).
Trucker Joe
Today I spent some time with Trucker Joe at the “Deep Northern Suburban Lankville Trucker’s Pool and Spa Association” (I get in free being Joe’s “guest”). Usually it’s not a bad place especially if the pool has water and it’s somewhat clean. The truckers are pretty hesitant with “outsiders” but being with him must give me some pretty good cred. In fact Joe says that’s probably what saves me from getting my throat slashed in the shower rooms. (I like to think it has more to do with my friendly personality). After a nice dip in the pool we settled down with a few cold ones (Joe had a beer and I had a refreshing diet citrus soft drink) and the tales of the Interstates began to flow.
“Bri, you might think it’s an easy life, speeding down the road with somewhat illegal contraband, wind blowing through your hair while gazing at the light purple sky of an evening’s sunset, some rambling jam band on the radio shoving their good vibes into your soul. It’s not that peachy, I know that’s the romantic spin people like you try to put on it (I tried to tell him not really but he wasn’t listening) but there is some real danger out there. Take the roads in Western Lankville for example, it seems to be the hot bed for a lot of accidents and strange happenings these days. Not sure if it’s all metaphysical stuff but I hear the people chanting in the woods just like everybody else that passes, even seen a person or two in a robe. Does that really mean the occult? People like to dress in robes to be comfortable all the time, right? But one does have to admit the roads are just plain bad out there with a lot of twists and turns. There’s a spot called “The Devil’s Bend” off of Highway 402 where you will find an accident almost every other hour. I passed by a nasty one not too long ago, one sixteen wheeler crashed right into another. One of them was hauling frozen fish sandwiches, you know like you find in the frozen aisle at Foodville (for some reason Joe shops there) and they were scattered all over the road. I think a few cars were caught up in it as well, crumpled and burning under the bottom of both trucks. Yes, people of all sorts take that bend too fast but is it because these chanting people in robes by the woods are taking over the driver’s minds and causing this? Do they also cause the tire blow outs that send trucks spinning out of control and crashing into innocent families picnicking on the side of the road? Or do they get in the heads of the families and make them have a picnic on the side of the road because that’s one hell of a place to have one if you ask me. It’s these types of trucking questions that can tear at a man’s soul.”
”The Devil’s Bend” near Highway 402
I was going to mention that I had never heard of any family ever picnicking by the side of a highway and then being killed. Sadly, I was wrapped up thinking about the frozen fish sandwiches which would never be eaten. What a loss.
“Another weird area is Interstate 63 in Middle Southeast Suburban Lankville. Back in the golden heyday of trucking that was one of the finest roads to drive through. For whatever reason, they decided to put a walking lane for people to stroll down, how does that even make sense? I understand the area has fallen on hard times and the folks are poor but the merging onto it is a real pain in the ass now.”
Come on, I can believe hooded cultists causing accidents on a highway but a walking lane on the interstate? That’s a bit much.
“Joe, that sounds a little too crazy. You are either making that up or mixing something up.”
“I knew you were going to say that! Always not believing me and such. Well this time I took a picture just to prove you wrong.”
”The walking lane” on Interstate 63
Joe opened his trucker’s fanny pack and took out the picture. I snatched it out of his hand.
“Jeez Joe did you take this to prove a point or did you want a picture of this woman?” He had an unhealthy obsession of taking pictures of women while on the highway.
“Don’t get sore because I am right.”
I tuned out his playful taunting and studied the picture closely for a few minutes.
Who’s to say that woman’s car broke down a few miles away and she was trying to get help? Just because you see one woman walking down Interstate 63 doesn’t mean it’s a walking lane.”
He rolled his eyes like I was the biggest idiot in the world. “BECAUSE I saw other women walking down the road, up and down the road in fact.”
“Hmmmm.” I thought about it for another minute. Why would women be walking up and down that stretch of pavement unless it really was a walking lane. “Guess you’re right–this time.”
“Well the next time we go out to eat you’re buying!!”
We sat for a little awhile taking in the sun and sipping our drinks basking in the warmth of our friendship. I was quietly building up the nerve to ask him a question. This question I ask every once in awhile in hope of finally hearing some stories. “Hey Joe, can we talk about Highway 71 now?”
The Fried Egg Hot Dog- A trucker’s dream!!!
This single question turns the usually joyful trucker into a very serious one. “I don’t know if you are ready Bri, those tales make places like Highway 402 look like a field day in the park.”
Highway 71, also known as the “Badlands”, is located in South South Lankville. I have always been personally obsessed with the place ever since reading books about it as a lonely teenager in the school library. The tales of the macabre, the strange and supernatural, the utter madness!! Some say it’s all the natural gas from the mountains that make people hallucinate, others say it’s a true portal to Hell. I know Joe has driven it at least a few times and each time coming back a slightly changed man. I patiently wait for the day when he is ready to open up about it.
Before wrapping this article up I just have to mention the delight of the Trucker Spa’s eatery– most notably their “Fried Egg Hot Dog”. Sure, the eatery is usually very filthy with last night’s grease still dripping off the oven and the constant smell of urine from the nearby restrooms always in the air. Sure the cook and staff are the rudest people in the world especially to me as one of the “outsiders”. And sure they make me take off my pants and cluck like a chicken for the food I want but it’s so so worth it. The way the grease melts on the egg to the hot dog then soaking into the bun making it a soggy mess. Believe me you will want to get a truckers license just to get in and try this!!
Well until next time my gentle readers, keep your mouth and mind open to new ideas. Happy Eating!!-Bri
Run to the Hills: The Denouement
Brian Schropp on Cuisine
Dear gentle readers, I am sorry you haven’t heard from me in a few weeks. In relating what happened to me in the Deep Northern Suburban Hill Country, I came to the part where my kinfolk and the Cameron tribe discovered that my “old school chum” Nate Grossenbaum was really “The Great Addaric”. I tried off and on to write what happened next but the horror of it all was just too great. There is a reason President Poncherry doesn’t allow city folks into the hill country and I saw it all first hand. You really don’t think those cannibal films you see on the late night Lankville cable channels (usually scrambled because my folks won’t pay for it) really happen but I’m here to tell you that they do.
RIP Nate Grossbaum: What Were You Thinking?”
I suppose if there is a positive to be found in watching Nate being ripped opened while still alive and his organs being eaten by hill people was all the technology he left behind. For some reason the fool had all these generators up there so he could recharge all the stuff on his suit. I was able to use these to hook up the old microwaves my kinfolk had stolen from the city. Then, I showed them how to heat up all the pilfered “magical food”. It was quite a joy seeing the sparkle in their eyes as many in my tribe tasted their first bacon, egg and cheese breakfast sandwich or spicy beef burrito. This gave the Schropp tribe the confidence to overwhelm the Camerons who had them on the run for awhile. Unfortunately the horror started all over again when the now defeated tribe was massacred and not only were body parts ripped off and organs ripped out but these things were being microwaved and eaten warmed! My lessons had been used for evil!
It was quite astonishing to see the gentle look in the eyes of Franz, Strong Fist and Hamburger one second and then, seconds later, witness the savage fury of human flesh eating. I had all that my sweet and tender mind could take so I made a quick exit when they were in full “eating the Cameron tribe mode”. My biggest fear was my kinfolk coming after me once they realized I was gone and then deciding to eat me even though I was their “Great Bumpkin”. A little ways down the hill as I was fleeing (in the direction I thought was home) I ran into Scott my manager at the “Pizza-A-Round”. He was leading a “search party” which consisted of Oscar and Omar my “cleaning team”. The two didn’t seem that happy in finding me (I really “crack the whip” at work sometimes) but Scott seemed pretty pleased. I could see by the full arsenal he had on him that Scott could safely lead me out of the hill country.
Picture of my manager Scott relaxing at home.
I’m pretty sure I would have never made my way out of the confusing twists and turns of the place without Scott. He kept his guard up constantly– “I’ll shoot anything that crosses my path- ANYTHING!” Luckily nothing too much crossed our path until we got closer to the outskirts of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville. Then it was only a hobo or two.
When we made it back to the “Pizza-A-Round” things were in a state of chaos. It seems that without the strong leadership of Scott the place had fallen apart. The worst part was the dishes had piled up and the super squirrels were circling around the back door because they could the smell the crusted food. I didn’t even worry about changing out of the trash bag/deer skin hill outfit my folks made for me. I walked over to my “manager sink” and donned my yellow cleaning gloves. “Come on Oscar and Omar, to your sinks, CLEAN-CLEAN!!” The duo frowned and went about their tasks.
I think that my fellow co-workers were at first taken aback that I didn’t change out of my hill outfit and soon the
Oscar and Omar- my “cleaning team” I know they really love me.
laughing and teasing began. I could hear the jokes and snickering behind my back but it didn’t matter– there were dishes to clean to “keep the ship afloat”. It started to affect the performance of the store as a whole, things started to get even more out of hand. Scott finally took out a gun and fired a few warning shots into the ceiling silencing everyone. “How dare you.” He scanned the whole room giving “the Scott look” to them all. “If you only had HALF the dedication that Bri has!! I swear I feel like shooting someone right now– just give me an excuse!!” They all calmed down then and got back to work. That’s what I mean when I talk about strong leadership!
Dr. Nickelbee, my therapist, who sits WAY too close to me.
When I got home to my “basement apartment” that night I reflected on how much Scott thought of me and it made me feel good. But the horrors of what I witnessed in the hill country wouldn’t leave my mind. After a few days I think my folks saw I had a lot on my mind and was not acting right, I wasn’t in the mood for any type of food (especially the breakfast pizza rolls my mom had started to make me recently) and not even attempting to watch scrambled porn on the Lankville cable late at night. Then the articles stopped, I couldn’t write a single word. Mom and Dad found me a therapist on the cheap so I could talk about it. His name is Dr. Nickelbee and he sits WAY to close to me on the couch. (Believe me readers you will be hearing more about him in future articles).
While stroking my knee tenderly he tells me I’m suffering from shock from the events that happened in the hill country and it’s turning into depression. He said the best medicine was to get back to writing those fantastic articles I do for the paper (then he squeezed my knee very, very hard). So here I am, “back in the game” so to speak. So please look forward to some excellent food articles in the coming weeks!! Until next time, keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas! Happy eating!!-Bri
Run to the Hills, Part Two
Brian Schropp on Cuisine
So I found myself in a pretty rough spot, I was up in the rugged Hill Country of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville kidnapped by the Cameron tribe and taken to see somebody or something called “The Great Addaric”. The worst part, I was desperately hungry– being taken before my lunch break at the “Pizza-A-Round”. My thoughts turned to the “Pizza Eggwich” I was going to make on my break. This cutting edge idea I had been working on for awhile and was looking forward to tasting my test product. The constant pushing, poking, and prodding by the Cameron Hill People kept bringing me back to reality.
“Keep moving chubby,” their leader (whose name was “Shifty Eyes”) said. “We will be to “The Great Addaric soon!”
The beautiful but dangerous Hill Country of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville
Who was this Addaric jerk? And why had “Shifty Eyes” called me “The Great Bumpkin” earlier? (please see last article). These folks, much like their city namesakes, were not very friendly and were entirely unresponsive to my questioning. The steep rocky path they had me walking up was surrounded by heavy woods and a deep underbrush. It turned out to be an excellent ambush point for out of nowhere came another group of hill people. They advanced screaming their warrior cries and waving their weapons (some clearly had handmade weapons like spears and others had things collected from “city folk” like hubcaps). Having no idea who they were or what was going on I collapsed into my “defensive fetal position” which I learned in my old High School days.
This new group quickly drove off the Cameron tribe without much bloodshed. I was picked up and whisked away to the safety of the other side of the hill. The men put me down on my feet then they got down on one knee. They chanted “The Great Bumpkin” for a few minutes. Then the one who was clearly the leader of this group stood up and grabbed my shoulders, smiling.
“Great leader, cousin, dare I say friend, you have finally come to us!” He went on to say his name was “Franz” the leader of the Schropp Hill People!
I was overjoyed meeting my hill kinfolk and went around to shake each of their hands, grateful they had saved me. There was “Strong Fist”, “Dory”, “Hamburger”, “Merle” and “Sweet Berry” among many others. They got on their knees again and started to chant “The Great Bumpkin”.
“Come on guys, get up!” I was slightly embarrassed by all this but yet l did like the attention. “What is this Great Bumpkin thing about anyways?”
Franz grabbed my shoulders again “You!! Part man, part bumpkin. The one sent to the Schropp Hill People to save us!”
“Really? Did my folks contact you?” My mom and dad had tried over the years to pawn me off to various relations “for a break”.
“Our elders have spoken of you often. A special, sweet and tender person who was blessed with certain powers. Powers advanced to us hill people. Powers over magical food from your cities.”
“Hamburger” advanced and pulled a prepackaged breakfast sandwich out of his hill attire. “Great power, great power,” he mumbled.
“Not sure what is so powerful or magical about this but with the proper equipment I could make it for you.”
The group stepped back in astonishment “ohhhing” and “ahhhing”.
Schropp Hill People L to R- “Hamburger”, “Franz”, “Strong Fist”, “Sweet Berry”
I was then taken to meet the rest of my people were which was not far, they had set up a makeshift community of huts and tents by a river. After another warm greeting I was taken to a tent where I was finally able to
eat something. The women had prepared a rabbit stew (which was delightful) and then one brought some strips of beef jerky. “Magic food for you Great Bumpkin”. The jerky was a bit tough but topped off the stew nicely. I was then given new clothes to dress in which were a combination of deer skin and trash bags.
Franz took me on a tour of their mobile village– not only did they carry their tents and huts with them but they had a lot of older appliances (like microwave ovens and deep fryers) which they must have stolen from dumpsters on the outskirts of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville. I could see they wanted to use these things to cook “magical food” but of course it was beyond them. If only there was some sort of power source where we could hook all this up and teach them.
After the tour Franz and I sat down to talk. It seems that the Schropp and Cameron hill tribes were two of the most powerful clans around. For many generations they lived side by side, tensions would flare up every once in awhile but mostly they lived peacefully. It wasn’t until last year that this “Great Addaric” showed up and starting helping the Camerons. My people seemed very frightened of this character– so much so that they soon fled their lands and went on the run.
I started to ask Franz what they were so scared of but we were interrupted by a commotion from outside. The cries and yells of the women, children and most of the men from my tribe told me I was going to find out sooner than later what “The Great Addaric” was all about.
”The Not So Great Addaric”
I heard a loud distorted voice coming from the edge of the camp. “RUN YOU IDIOTS-RUN AWAY FROM MY POWERS!!”
I had to convince not only Franz but also “Strong Fist” and “Hamburger” to follow me. Pushing pass my kinfolk I made my way outside and was utterly shocked by who I found.
“Nate?”
Nate Grossenbaum was a dude I knew in High School– very much a loner who was into role playing games and goth music. He was now dressed in total black wearing some strange device he had rigged up to distort his voice and create this neon lighting effect that came out of his hands. I was pretty sure most of his outfit was an old laser tag game from our youth.
It took a moment for him to recognize me, most likely because of my new hill outfit. But once he did the lighting soon stopped from his hands and in a very human voice he yelled “Shit!!”. Nate took off back into the woods almost as if the Old Deep Northern Suburban Leathbacks high school football team was after him again.
“Come on tribe after him!!” I knew we had momentum on our side and we needed to get to this fool and find out what his deal was.
Next week all will be revealed in my final installment from the hill country!! Until then, Happy Eating-Bri
To Catch a Thief, Part Two: 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
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.
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.
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.
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
“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
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