Archive
It’s Time to Inflate Your Feelings Tube
Dr. Kevin Thurston
Dr. Kevin Thurston is an expert on men’s feelings.
I want you to imagine yourself as a child with an inner tube around your waste about to frolic along the edge of the ocean waves. Listen to the calm crash of the surf, the timeless call of the pelicans, the simple but understated sound of a foam ice chest top being lifted and a sandwich produced. Let peace wash over you.
As you’ve grown to manhood, that inner tube is still there. Not literally (although, maybe for some– Dr. Kevin Thurston does not discriminate against any form of alternative lifestyle). It’s there as a tight tube of feelings around your chest, encircling your heart.
Often, as the years pass, that tube will become deflated. The feelings will slowly leak out and away into the ether. Or the tube will be suddenly crushed as your spirit (represented by the tube, remember) is flattened. This could be the cause of a divorce, the loss of employment, or the consistent rejection of your four-act, one-man wordless play. Life can deal one a bad hand.
But Dr. Kevin Thurston is here with a remedy. Together, we will inflate that feelings tube. We will pump it back into a ring of protection, happiness and manhood. Make an appointment with me today. Most men have forged a new tube of positive feelings by session eight. I know you can too.
I also have actual inner tubes available featuring bright, inviting colors for a fun day at the beach. Transparent, smooth seam to prevent skin irritation. $9.99 for the pair.
THEATRE: New Play Misses Mark
Lance Pepsid
The premier of a play by a Lankville writer is generally an event of some importance. Therefore, it is disturbing to report that Gore Bins which opened last evening at the Danny Madison Industries Actor’s Arena, missed its mark.
In the final scene, one of the characters puts her finger on the sore spot when she says, “this is inferior. I wish I knew why.”
The work of Cust Shirley, who has heretofore written novels, poetry and Hobo Village, a folk play with music, has been roundly dismissed by critics. Gore Bins continues the theme– it is a bundle of impassioned protests directed towards obscure targets. The character motivations are undeveloped and the general impression is one of confusion.
It would seem that Shirley, who arguably has very little to say, made the mistake of trying to say it all at once, quickly, without making any effort to formulate and augment it effectively. The constant, seemingly pointless, tossing of gore from the catwalks merely serves to exacerbate the problem.
“It was about every 30 seconds or so, they’d drop some gore,” noted patron Steven Buechele of the Lankville Outlands. “It was, like, a bunch of ground-up sausages or something made to look like intestines. The loud splat against the stage floor made it difficult to hear some of the lines that were being delivered.”
Shirley chose as his hero one Marty Totts, a bin salesman (played by Leo Gomez in his debut) who elects to champion the cause of Nino, a fisherman accused of murder.
Marty Totts examines some undercarriage rust in a scene from “Gore Bins”.
The opening scene at Marty’s summer home at Lankville Beach presents an air of suspense with the arrival of Lieutenant Elia who announces that a search is being made for Nino’s victim among “the rocks down by the ocean.” In this scene, JoAnna Breese fares well in the role of “Lisas”, the fiancee of Marty. Jim Corsi, as Lieutenant Elia turns in the most believable performance of the play. Gore is dropped fifteen times with no characters seeming to take notice.
Lisas takes on the defense of Nino; she says, “I will clear his name at whatever cost in personal shame and degradation.” Lieutenant Elia responds, “why, there’s no need for that” to which Lisas says, “Oh, good, alright.” A bunch of gore is dropped and the scene ends.
Nino, however, is still arrested and a long, senseless court scene ensues– Robin Yount is particularly terrible as the distracted judge. Marty and Lisas house suddenly burns down offstage (although a fire was still set) and they are taken into the home of Boy-O, who endeavors to seduce Lisas and, despite his overall unappealing apperance (a lot of the gore falls on him) is successful. The love scene is awkward, rather lewd and marred by a lot of gore falling on the bed.
A street fight occurs between Marty and Boy-O and shortly thereafter, the entire neighborhood erupts into a game of tireless orgying and nothing ends up resolved.
Don McGovern, as Boy-O plays his role with skill and Lillian Tennis as the turtle trainer is competent but even their performances failed to lend support to the proceedings.
Summed up, the play is a travesty. It was produced and directed by Shirley.
Meet the Reporters of The Lankville Daily News
By Buck Igloos
The first job I had was writing copy for hotel pamphlets. The guy that gave it to me– he said, “Now look, Igloos. I’m giving you a real shot here. Don’t blow it.” So, I went home and just about stayed up all night. Nothing was working– I’d put something down on the page and then just as soon I’d tear it up. I must have filled about five wastebins with crumpled paper. My lover at the time, she said, “I’m getting tired of emptying this wastebin, Buck. Whyn’t you come to bed?” She was a lovely girl– gorgeous hair. My God, I was crazy about her.
Anyway, it must’ve been about 6 A.M. and I was due in in an hour. And then finally it came: “offering its guests convenience and quiet relaxation in a quaint setting”. I jumped in the air. I had nailed it and I knew it. Then, as if it came from above, I wrote, “only six miles from Lankville’s capital.” I couldn’t believe it.
The boss, he read the paper a couple of times over while he sat on the side of his desk smoking a cigarette. Eventually, he looked up.
“You wrote this, Igloos?”
I was really sweating. Didn’t help that I had an all-brown suit on that wasn’t breathing for shit.
The boss cleared his throat. “It’ll do,” he said.
I got the hell out of there. But later, at lunch, some of the fellows keyed me in.
“Yeah, the boss couldn’t believe your work, Igloos,” a guy named Jimmy told me. I’ll never forget him because he died later. “The boss was telling his secretary– this Igloos– he’s good. He’s real good” and then he phoned up the regional manager and told him he was putting you on all the quaint hotel accounts.” Jimmy slapped me on the back and I coughed up a bit of porridge. But I didn’t care– I had made it. It was going to be all uphill from there.
And it has been. I’ve been lucky. Married a lovely girl- not the same girl but another lovely girl with lovely hair. Cries a lot but what can you do?
Buck Igloos has been a feature reporter for The Lankville Daily News since 1993.
Musings of a Decorative Ham Man
By Chris Vitiello
The only grocer in my tiny childhood village was an aged man who operated a small corner store that was often bereft of useful items. The name on the sign was “H.W. Yeast and Sons” but everyone referred to the man as “Old Yeast”.
Dad would say, “Go up to Old Yeast’s and see if he has any hangers. We never have enough hangers in this house. Look at all the clothes that just sit around in torn boxes.” He would hand me some money then and go back to watching small motel girl wrestling on a little television propped up by a phone book.
I would walk up the big hill, past the cramped avenue of derelict shops and houses and finally arrive at Old Yeast’s. There were always a series of wooden boxes out front with a selection of desiccated fruits and vegetables thrown in for effect.
The door had an old cowbell that rang unnaturally loud and then you would wait awhile in the dusty haze until Old Yeast suddenly appeared. It was always a most uncanny entrance for there was no further room from which the little man could emerge and there was no back door. I would always keep my eyes focused directly on the dim area behind the counter but invariably I would be distracted by something– some canned good perhaps or a poorly-presented display case chuck and suddenly the strange figure would be before me in his blood-stained waist apron, immaculate white shirt and short black tie.
“You have not corralled your wardrobe properly,” he said, on that particular day. “You require hangers”.
I could not speak. Old Yeast had read my mind.
“I admire an organized man,” said Old Yeast. “A man who can get dressed in the morning with minimal effort. A series of brisk, yet controlled movements. Only a mongrel would dress out of cardboard boxes.”
He mused on this.
“When the necessary elimination comes, only the organized will survive.”
I stared at a suddenly animated pinwheel sticking out of a tall barrel.
“Dad wants…the hangers,” I said, extending a crumpled bill.
“Oh, yes, well I don’t have any. I haven’t had hangers in years. They’re on order.” And suddenly Old Yeast seemed to disappear. I could no longer locate him in the dim area behind the counter and he did not respond to my calls.
A fog suddenly crept in and it became even darker in the dim shop. I left and walked back down the hill to the disused train station and the lichen-covered stone walls. To my amazement, Old Yeast suddenly appeared before me.
“Can you envision a sort of fierce, uncompromising train that would come along here?” he asked. He stared at the tracks above, a line long out of service. He was patently younger. “This would be a train that would have no earthy destination,” he said again.
“Do you mean…it would be…it would go to the moon?” I asked, nervously.
“No,” Old Yeast said softly. “Space does not exist. I mean a train that would travel to some inner world destination. Some sort of nether region. I don’t really care for groceries.”
The latter comment seemed an afterthought.
We waited by the station for some time. Rain began to fall. I grew agitated. I knew that Dad would be expecting hangers. Or perhaps not. He was a forgetful sort of man.
“It will come,” Old Yeast assured me.
I have forgotten how the day ended.
The Electronics Cranny: All About Little Scanners
By Fritz Tennis Electronics Expert
Have you ever wondered what makes little scanners so popular? Well, there’s no need to cuss. Just go somewhere else and let the people interested in the subject listen.
Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I’d like to start with a brief history. The first scanners were developed by the Keithley Corporation of Central Lankville. These early prototypes were simple devices that operated on crystals or berries and required repeated interior penetration on the part of the operator. Their frequency ranges were generally limited– usually to the owner’s front yard and therefore, unless something really great was going on in the front yard, the scanner received almost no signals whatsoever. Oftentimes, buyers would simply return the scanners complaining that they were “stupid” or “useless” or “pointless” and, yes, there was some cussing.
The first frequency-synthesized (little) scanner was developed by the Teagardens Company in 1972 but was never released due to several problems with the device (it was discovered that it caught fire and exploded easily). In 1973, founder Shearboy Teagardens was strangled during a challenge and thus ended the Teagardens Company brief flirtation with the scanner. Fortunately, in that same year, the Keithley Corporation (re-emergent as a major player in little electronics) issued their PT-647-X which, of course, became the Holy Goblet of little scanners.
The Keithley PT-647-X
What made the Keithley PT-647-X ingenious was its master oscillator which enabled the listener to generate a practically infinite number of frequencies. “You could get fire stations, police centers, hospitals, kiosks, just about anything,” noted electronics collector Billy Choppy. “The capacitance of its variable-voltage capacitor was almost monstrous and you could peak the tuned circuit to just glide it in,” added Choppy, who was suddenly cussed at by his mother from the top of the stairs. “Don’t worry about her,” he assured us. “She’s not able to understand even a simple block diagram circuit paper, so that’s the kind of intellect we’re dealing with here.”
Keithley followed up their wildly-successful PT-647-X with the X-X-12, issued in 1975 which introduced, for the first time, the idea of a telescoping antenna. Unfortunately, manufacturing problems with the antenna led to many accidental lancings and the X-X-12 was quickly recalled. “It was an inferior product anyway,” said Choppy. “Because of problems with the exoskeletal engine and the little green numerical display face, you were really only able to receive signals from things like distant farms or perhaps some truck people. Indeed, it caused Keithley to go out of business again although, as we all know, they emerged later as a big player in the home numerical keypad market.”
Choppy was suddenly cussed at again by his mother and a clothes basket, filled with trash, was hurled down the stairs causing a ruckus.
Today’s scanners are mostly computerized and feature wide frequency ranges, including international and islands. The electronic sophistication of the modern scanner could hardly be dreamed of even, say, ten years ago. What does the future hold in store? It is anyone’s guess though I like to think that one day we will be able to receive funner signals and not really depressing things like announcements of murders or burials. Until then, take your pick from some of the finest little scanner technologies now available.
Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.
Dick Oakes, Jr.
It was a bunch of us standing out in the desert watching a couple of guys fight with knives. I put a bet down on the Outlander– he was a big sturdy guy in a stretched t-shirt. There was a message on the t-shirt– it was a little cartoon bird with a word bubble that said, “I look good in green” even though the shirt was orange. I couldn’t figure on any of it.
The fight went on for a good hour– both of these hicks making all sorts of feints and then pulling back. I walked over to the guy that had collected the money.
“Give me my bet back– this ain’t going nowhere,” I said.
“Fuck off, Oakes,” he shot back. “Look here, your boy just got a good cut in.”
Sure enough, the Outlander had pierced the other guy’s thigh. Blood was everywhere- all over the sand. They called it.
I ended up with about $75.
I huffed it into town and started looking around for a bed for the night. Found a place called the Moongate– the office looked like it was wearing a gold crown. I couldn’t make nothing out of it but the lot was clean. They had just put the sign on– the light was fading down over a copse of half-dead trees.
The manager was a tall, angular kid leaning back on a stool and reading a coffee table book called Hot Air Balloons. He threw it under the counter when I walked up.
“You don’t have to throw your book around,” I said. “I don’t care none.”
He got real red. “What book, mister? I didn’t have no book. We only got a couple of suites left. It’s vacation season.”
I took the suite. I was flush. I even had the kid order me up a Coronado plate and some french fried potatoes and have it sent up to the room.
“Put a dollar on there for yourself,” I said. I took a mint out of a little jar on the counter and immediately cracked a molar.
“Those are made of steel, mister. Just show mints. You alright?”
I’d figure I’d live.
The room was done up in turquoise carpeting with an orange sofa and settee. I put the teevee on and flopped on the bed. There wasn’t a lot of give but it’d do. Some nonsense came on about some cowboys who were trying to traverse a perilous gulch. After awhile, they fell into the gulch. The camera remained focused on the spot where they had been– it seemed like minutes passed– you kind of thought they were going to climb back up but they didn’t. Then the credits went up. I couldn’t figure on it.
A knock came at the door then and a little redhead in a checked outfit and white skirt pushed the food through. I thought about how I hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning.
I gave the redhead a tip and slapped her on the ass as she was leaving. She turned around.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve, mister.” Her eyes were like bullets.
“Well, that’s what they say about me,” I responded. “They say, that Oakes, he shoots from the hip.”
“Is that why you were assing off in the desert– watching a couple of bums fight with knives earlier?” she said. “I saw you– I drove by in my car. You’re just a bum yourself.”
I ushered her out. I didn’t feel like it none. Another show was coming on– it was cowboys wandering alongside a gulch again. It didn’t make no sense– none of it.
But the eatin’ was good.
Bumpkin Vanishes Here: May Be Victim of Kidnappers
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
CAPITAL CITY, LANKVILLE, June 10– Jackie Keys, a bumpkin, 63 years old, and successful owner of Keys’ Newspaper and Beer Hut in Northern Lankville, has been missing since Monday afternoon, when he checked out of the El Patio Motel here and left no word of his plans.
Lankville police and The Lankville Bureau of Probes have been searching hospitals, hotels, bus stations, and highway median strips for the missing man. Because he is a wealthier bumpkin, it is feared by some that he may have been kidnapped.
“It is very easy to lure a bumpkin,” noted Detective Houston Gee-Temple, who is spearheading the search. “The bumpkin believes any and all promises, particularly if little objects that light up are proffered. They can also be susceptible to things that appear to be rather ordinary but then are revealed to have a second unexpected feature such as, say, a pencil that also has a clock in it.”
Mysterious Phone Call
A mysterious phone call to the Bureau of Probes last night by a person in the Southern Desert Area who represented himself as a bumpkin relative of Keys, has further complicated the case.
“We are inclined to view that phone call as a ruse,” said Gee-Temple, who was interviewed while staring at a pencil that also had a clock in it. “It may have been the kidnappers, attempting to establish communication with the bumpkin Keys’ family with a view to ransom. Unfortunately, they hung up before we could ascertain anything further.”
Bumpkin relatives have been notified and are attempting to take part in the search.
Pays Bill and Leaves
Last known image of Keys is this secret hidden surveillance photo from his room at the El Patio Motel.
Employees of the El Patio Motel were quizzed last night as part of the investigation. Nothing unusual was reported.
“He paid his bill and then he left,” said the counterman, who asked not to be identified. “He left the room in alright condition, although the teevee never has worked well since.”
When he left the El Patio Motel, Mr. Keys was described as wearing a “loud outfit of shorts and a sleeveless jersey”. He carried no luggage but had some clothes stuffed into a plastic grocery bag.
Gee-Temple believes it may be possible that Keys is wandering about the city.
“Bumpkins tend to get confused by a lot of buildings. Sometimes, it can be problematic for them to find their way out,” the intrepid lawman noted.
The search continues today.
Employee Printing Out an Awful Lot of Lion Pictures
Buck Igloos
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
An employee in the Barlow Foods offices in Lankville City has been printing out an awful lot of lion pictures, co-workers are confirming.
The employee was identified as Kelley Pauses, 54, of North Suburban Lankville.
“I’ve been noticing an awful lot of printing being done recently, we’ve been going through a lot of toner,” noted Administrative Assistant Henrietta Schropp. “I’ve been keeping an eye on the queue, and I keep seeing print jobs with weird titles like “Thirsty Cubs”, “Sunning on the Savanna”, “Danger in the Long Grass”– that kind of thing.”
“We’ve counted over 500 lion pictures in the last two weeks alone,” Schropp added.
One of the lion pictures seized this morning.
“I saw [Kelley] closing her drawer really quickly one day and I happened to notice it was stuffed full of lion pictures. I found it very curious,” noted co-worker Lance Parrisher, who later disappeared. “I think she disposed of a lot of files to make room for the [lion] pictures.”
Pauses refused to comment. Her lion pictures were seized this morning and she was sent home early.
“I guess it would be understandable if she had a child that was, say, making a poster for school about lions,” opined Parrisher. “But, she’s barren. I remember because we were all eating cake when she told us.”
“I think she lives alone,” Schropp noted.
Barlow Foods CEO John Barlow, reached by phone, stated that he did not yet have enough information to comment.
“I’ll need to know a little more about these lion pictures,” Barlow stated. “We’ll be keeping an eye on the incident.”
OPINION: I’ve Been Punched in the Mouth While Renting a Belt Sander Before, I’ll Be Punched in the Mouth While Renting a Belt Sander Again
Dick La Hoyt
IMPORTANT OPINIONS
Yeah, this is a message for that shitscrew down at the Home Dump in the Lankville Hill Area. Guess what, asspipe? I’ve been punched in the mouth while renting a belt sander before, I’ll be punched in the mouth while renting a belt sander again.
So, here’s what happened. I’m just putting some finishing touches on a little patio out back– just a nice little place with some cushy seats where I can put my feet up at night, know what I mean? Got a little fire pit out there, a gas grill– I won’t lie, it’s kind of an oasis. Anyway, even though Tammy keeps saying Dick, it’s fine, it’s done I know to hell it could be better, so I go over to the Home Dump to rent me a belt sander.
I can tell the guy is a real smartass from the get go– like he thinks Dick La Hoyt is some kind of a sucker. Keeps saying, “Hey, man, your best value is to rent this for a week– that way, you can take your time.” “I don’t need no time,” I tell him. “When I start a project, I damn well finish it that day. You can bet your cheeks on that.” He gets real embarrassed then and he kind of dumps the belt sander on the counter in a real pissy way and starts writing me out some contract that’s about 20 pages long.
“What’s the speed on this thing– what kind of db’s are we looking at? This thing got torque control?” I ask.
You wouldn’t believe it. This goon didn’t even look up– just kept writing.
“HEY, MAN! I can take my god damn business elsewhere. I already got figures from a couple of other places and they SURE AS SHIT are cheaper than YOUR ASS.”
He looks up and stops writing.
“Good for you. You must feel great now.”
Well, I won’t lie– I just about lost my shit.
“LET’S STEP OUTSIDE COCKSUCKER!” I yell.
“I’ll meet you in the garden section,” he said. “That outside enough for you?”
“GLADLY”. And I walk over to wait by the birdbaths and fountains.
Well, about fifteen minutes pass and I’m just fuming. At the same time, though, I’m burning daylight and I promised Tammy that I’d have that deck like the bottom of a baby’s ass by dinner. I ain’t got no time to wait around for this prick.
So, I start to head back to the counter. And I’m just coming around a big pile of bagged mulch and the next thing I know, the guy is standing right there. I take a swing and miss and then he pounds me right in the mouth. I go down like a god damn box of rocks and then, while I’m half-out, this turd dumps a bag of mulch on me. Even picks up a hose and waters down the mulch. Christ, I was soaked to shit.
But I just want him to know it and know it well– I been punched in the mouth while renting a belt sander before and I’ll sure as shit be punched in the mouth while renting a belt sander again.
I Want to Tell You About How Me and My New Boyfriend Broke Up
Ashley Pfeiffers
Yesterday, my new boyfriend and I were standing under the overpass. He was spray-painting the word “BAD” in big bubble letters on one of the pillars.
I thought he was going to kiss me at first. He came over and put his hands on my shoulders. And then he was like, “Ash, this is it. I can’t do this anymore.”
I AM SO DEPRESSED.
I asked why and he said that I wasn’t really into spray-paint culture and skateboarding. “But, I am, you’ve made me love it,” I said. I was crying. I couldn’t even see through the tears and I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was like there was a field of beautiful butterflies and then they all suddenly died.
“Ash, I need to focus on my career, you know?” my ex-boyfriend said. “The next guy that gets you, Ash. He’s going to be such a lucky guy.”
He touched my cheek and I looked into his eyes. Then, he gathered up his spray paints and skated off.
It started to rain.
Mom picked me up in front of the Decorative Ham factory. She didn’t say anything for a long time. Then she said, “I can only imagine how hurt you must feel…”
And I said, “NO, MOM, YOU CAN’T!” and I started crying against the window. She didn’t say anything for a long time after that and then she said, “take out your nose ring, honey, we’re going into the crafts store to pick up some glitter for your sister’s school project.”
OH MY GOD, I AM SO SAD.
I told Mom I would wait in the car. She touched my hair for a minute, then she took off towards the Craft Barn. I took out my pink notebook and started writing. That helped a little bit but then it just seemed like I was writing forever, that I didn’t even know what to write anymore and then Mom came back and gave me a pack of googly eyes.
“You used to laugh so much at these,” she said.
“When I was five years old,” I snapped back.
We started home. When we passed the Pizza A’Round, I started crying again. “That was our place,” I said.
“Really!!??” Mom responded. “I always thought that place was…” She stopped herself.
I went straight up to my room when I got home. I just cried and cried and cried into my pink stuffed penguin.
I AM DEVASTATED.
Yes, I Urinated on a Rack of Candy
By Chief Hogsett
A LANKVILLE DAILY NEWS SERIES ON CRIME AND CRIMINALS
Two months ago, I got picked up at a pharmacy. I was just trying to buy one of those cheap little styrofoam ice chests. We were going to put some beer in there and go into the woods. We were looking for something to keep the beer cool but also something that was sturdy and fairly-durable. We weren’t looking for no hinged lid or grip handles– matter of fact, we were going to just leave the thing in the woods, maybe float it down the river. I know, personally, whenever I see one of them things floating down the river, I go after it. It’d give somebody something to do.
So, there’s this island clerk behind the counter and he don’t speak no Lankville or barely. He keeps pointing at the credit card swiper and I keep telling him that I want to pay cash but he’s so damn dumb he can’t understand me. Now, I’d already had a few but I wasn’t really that loaded. And he mumbles something and points to the button and I say, “CASH, YOU EVER SEEN A LANKVILLE DOLLAR BEFORE?” But this guy don’t want to take any cash from me– he wants me to pay with a credit card. It’s unbelievable these foreigners.
So, then I pick up this cat magazine that he’s got on the counter and throw it across the store. And he starts saying, “POLICE! POLICE!” and then I say, “NOW YOU’RE SPEAKING LANKVILLE, IMMIGRANT!”
And that’s when I started urinating all over his candy rack.
Yeah, I soaked it pretty good. All the gum, the candy bars, the funny stickers. I had a lot in there too boy– I was like a race horse. I even hit a couple more copies of that cat magazine on the counter.
That’s when Gee-Temple walked in.
“Chief, I see we’re going to have to take you in again,” he said. He looked at the piss dripping slowly down the racks. “That’s going to be the fourth time this month.”
“And you don’t have a shirt on, of course,” he said to himself. Which was true– I didn’t. Three of the last four times I’ve been bagged, I haven’t had no shirt on.
So now, they’re making me write this article on criminals in Lankville. It’s part of my “service duty”.
“They’ll have to make you a regular contributor,” Gee-Temple said, when I handed him my article. He just started shaking his head. “And you still don’t have a shirt on, for Christ’s sake. Somebody get him a shirt.”
They got me one. It has a cat on it which is kind of funny, in a way.
Gump Penetrates
Gump Tibbs
It’s time for another penetrating interview with Gump Tibbs. Today, Gump interviews Lankville Daily News correspondent and gourd aficionado Dr. David Hadbawnik.
GUMP: So, Dave, you have that little area in the paper where you write about gourds?
DH: That’s right. One day I was driving with the family through the Lankville Glens, passing by roadside stands selling fresh fruits and vegetables and ammunition, and we pulled over to choose a weapon for the kids. And there on a little woebegone table off to the side was a meager selection of gourds. It made me angry, you know? Like gourds are some kind of afterthought, almost an embarrassment. Well, not to me they’re not! That’s when I realized I had to do something. I started with skywriting. But I wanted something more interactive, so I began holding workshops. Now the workshops operate as a sort of ongoing “knowledge community,” in which we discover together that gourds are not just a neglected food item, or even a fetish object or fashion accessory, but a whole way of life. And from that, I generate ideas for the Lankville columns.
GUMP: Excellent! And you write about other things besides gourds?
Dr. David Hadbawnik
DH: Yes. Gourds have been a gateway to so many other things. I now consider myself a “budding” expert on other neglected plants, such as legumes, radishes, yams… Keep an eye out for my upcoming coffee-table book, Tubers and Taproots and Bulbs: Oh My! It will be out soon from Lankville Editions.
GUMP: That’s just fabulous. You’re a doctor now too. What kind of medicine do you practice?
DH: I haven’t decided yet; the possibilities really are endless – cardiology, homeopathy, astrology – and I’d like to try different things before I settle down with a specialty. For the moment, I consider myself an “intuitive” doctor. That means I’ll be out and about just kind of letting my mind wander, getting into a nice, foggy Zen state, and I’ll sense that someone nearby is having some discomfort from an ailment and go over and offer to help them. Often this takes the form of an impromptu massage; sometimes a round of staring at the affected area. People are always grateful!
GUMP: Now, Dave, I heard you celebrated with a dinner at Casa Montecristo? Pretty posh!
DH: My wife and I loved Casa Montecristo before it became so popular with the crème de la crème of Lankville, back when it was simply known as a Respectable Dining Venue. Now – sigh – it’s an Elegant Reception Hall. But we still love it, and Deejay Humphrey always plays our favorite song, “The Rose of Lankville.”
GUMP: Absolutely wonderful! How do you have time to do anything else what with gourds and medicine?
DH: I don’t know! But when gourds are your life, the time really just flies by, and it’s not work, it’s fun. If I weren’t being paid so much to do it, I’d do it for free!
GUMP: Just exceptional! I’m going to go fire some guns into the river– want to come along?
DH: I thought you’d never ask, Mr. Gump!
Are Oscillating Fans Safe? A Zach Keebaugh Investigation
Zachary Keebaugh
It’s getting hot in Lankville and you’re probably thinking about dragging that old oscillating fan down from the attic, setting it up on a chair and letting it go to town. But are they safe? I aimed to find out. I am Zach Keebaugh, Investigative Reporter.
Wunderkind inventor Danny Madison laughed at the idea. “The traditional three-speed oscillating fan with the alleged “safety grill” (here Madison employed the use of ironic air quotes), 90-degree oscillation and adjustable tilt is, more or less, a dinosaur. At Danny Madison Industries, we no longer make them. Let me show your our version of the fan.”
Madison led me past a series of glass cases where strange products beeped and buzzed. We entered a windowless white room. Lights flicked on instantly at our appearance. “Yo, that’s cool,” I commented. “Like, magic lights and shit.” Madison eyed me up for a minute, then he led me over to a small device on a table.
“This is our version of the fan. Note, we don’t even use the word “fan”. We use the name “Air Augmenter”.”
Madison gave me a few moments to let it sink in.
“The Madison Air Augmenter collects air from one area and transfers it to another area, if you will,” Madison continued. “While this may seem like an obvious extension of vacuum motor science, the Madison Air Augmenter takes that collected air, filters it, and redistributes it as “Breeze Cubes”. Ours is the only product that can achieve this complex transformation.”
“Yo, you mean, the air comes out in big cubes?” I asked.
Fifty years ago called. They want their oscillating fan back.
“In a sense,” Madison replied, as he removed a calculator from his jeans jacket and began to program a series of equations. “We also have successfully marketed an organic non-carcinogenic, non-toxic florescent dye that can be placed in the Air Augmenter. This allows the user to actually view the released breeze cubes with the naked eye. You can literally watch the cubes collect in your room.”
“So, your overheated shitbox of an apartment becomes like a cool wind rustling over the savanna?” I asked. Madison furrowed his brow.
In addition to all these awesome features, the Madison Air Augmenter requires no messy cleanup. No trying to wash out that big dented alien head of a grill in your bathtub while watching some challenge in the alley behind the knives and puzzles shop.
“The Air Augmenter needs no protective cover,” Madison said. He was back to the calculator again– punching a bunch of shit in there. “You don’t even need to wipe it down– it cleans itself. Sprays a fine mist on itself on a daily basis. Another feature that separates us from the so-called “oscillating fan” concerns. Also, the fan can be programmed via your “Reckoner”– another fine Danny Madison product.”
“So, you’re out working at the toy store or waiting for some bozo to finish up a steak sandwich and you can use your little calculator there to fill up your room with those cubes,” I commented. “You come home and BAM, you got yourself a room full of cubes.”
“Essentially,” Madison responded. He was staring at me again.
The Madison Air Augmenter retails for $199.99 and recently received an “A Safety Rating” from the Lankville Bureau of Probes.
The Small Towns of Lankville
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk
Lloyd Byas-Kirk recently won a large, unwieldy trophy with several distinct layers supported by columns for his series on the small towns of Lankville.
One passes through a verdant dell, a gigantic graveyard and an abandoned cake refinery before arrival in the town of “Curtberg”, located in the Eastern Lankville Mountainous Regions. There is a gas station, a handsome restaurant named after a former Lankville President, some houses and some cars. It is a place where a man can sit outside and ruminate over the morning sun coruscating brilliantly off the rooftops, it is a place for peace but also a place for guns, it is a place that holds Lankville tradition deep to its breasts [sic].
Harry Solids is the “mayor” of Curtberg. “Well, I was not officially elected,” he says, as he we stand in front of the post office for reasons unclear. “But, I act as the sort of person that sits on floats and accepts medals and other ceremonial geegaws. And, when there is dissent, I’m the person that gets the beating. I accept that. It’s part of the job.”
Main Street, Curtberg
Glenn Chowder has lived here for as long as he can remember. He works at the gas station, in the belt department. “This is a good town full of good people. We don’t cater much to interlopers,” he notes, as he consumes his meal (the meal of the Lankvillian– a hot dog and some raisins) in the grass behind the gas station. “We try to keep the town clean of nonsense.”
People like to look out windows in Curtberg. “We like to see what’s going on,” said resident Debbie Didier. “Like to see if the fence is holding up, if the garbage cans are on their paving stones at a proper angle, that the lids are on straight. It’s the little things that are important here,” Didier added.
Although the sun makes its radiant appearance in the early morning, it rains often here. A pounding, vigorous rain that leaves everything soppy and moist. “We’re all pretty much half-wet all the time,” Solids noted, as we moved along Main Street, passing in and out of a series of clashing storms. “You buy, say, a 24-pack of beer from the liquor store and the cardboard container is sodden before you get it out the door. You know how cardboard just kind of breaks down and turns real floppy? Just flops all over the place, you can’t control it, why try? And then it lands in the street and all the cans roll down the hill. That happens pretty frequently, everyday in fact. And I buy the big cans. The cans with the new “vast cavity” for more accessible drinking. Have you seen those?”
“I don’t drink,” I admitted.
Solids looked off towards the mountains. “Well, anyway, a bunch of my cans are at the bottom of the hill. They throw some straw over them and that’s that.”
“Terminus,” he added, after a long pause.
Pastor Glenn Laboy runs the town’s church. “I give a Sunday sermon and we have some little room sessions where people talk about life issues that are bothering them– work problems, the ceaseless rain, how hard it is to get anybody to put out for you anymore. I don’t judge, I listen. My job is to listen.”
“Shall we read a passage together in celebration of your article?”
Byas-Kirk immediately ran out of the church. The article will be continued at a later date.
Challenge Ring Busted Top Cop Says
Buck Igloos
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
A massive Southern Outlands challenge ring was busted this morning according to Lankville top cop Houston Gee-Temple.
“We had a young man and woman, operating out of a modest rancher surrounded by hedges,” the intrepid lawman noted at a press conference held on the lawn of the home. “We believe that they were the masterminds behind most of the challenges in the Southern and Southeastern Outlands. We have boarded up the home and will be knocking down some of the hedges by the end of the day.”
Byrnes and Savers are led away.
An aide whispered something briefly to Gee-Temple at which time the detective amended, “we will not be knocking down the hedges, excuse me.”
The individuals taken into custody are believed to be Lance Byrnes and Diane Savers, both 18, of the Outlands.
“I knew Lance. He was an Honor Roll Student and a junior member of the Koala Bears and Walnuts Club,” Gee-Temple commented. “We believe that this Savers woman was the instigator– a willing wanton, a sordid she-wolf, if you will. She was a girl who was willing to do anything to get what she wanted. What we have here really is the provocative story of a naive young man caught up in a whirlpool of thunder, a hurricane of lust. It’s terrible when that happens to nice boys like Lance.”
The pair may be responsible for as many as 200 challenges dating back to 2011.
“[Diane] began her challenge spree confidently but it all came crashing down this morning when we knocked politely at her door and took her off to a place where she can no longer control the world by pulling her curves over its spherical surface,” Gee-Temple stated.
“That place is jail,” the detective added after a long silence.
Bail has been set at $50,000 (Lankville).
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