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The 38th Annual Lankvillicon: Tickets on Sale Now!
Sponsored by Inflamed by Stars and Blood.
The 38th Annual Lankvillicon will run from July 28-August 1 at the Enhanced Leisure Inn in downtown Lankville. Tickets are now on sale.
“We’re looking forward to a fabulous event this year,” said convention organizer Brett Quentz, a smallish man wearing cut-off jeans. “As usual, we will have a panoply of great guests, events, contests, challenges and robots. It will be well-worth the $725 entrance fee.”
We pushed Quentz into a bush.
A LOOK AT A FEW OF THIS YEAR’S GUESTS
THE GEL KITE ALIENS— The enormously popular Gel Kite Aliens will make appearances on July 28th and 29th and be available for post-screening autograph sessions. “We’ll be showing two of their rare early films,” noted Quentz, who was able to climb out of the bush with some difficulty. “We’ll have Kite Expeditions which explains their origins and their initial reception upon visiting Earth and then Delta Squad: Harass which explains how they became one of Earth’s greatest weapons against other extraterrestrial beings. Two great films and we’ll be showing them in their original 170 mm format– a rare chance to see them as intended.” Quentz smiled slightly and an awkward period of silence ensued.
Then we pushed him into the bush again.
Saucers, 2020
RICHARD AND THE POSTMAN, SAUCERS 2020– The Lankville Prober recently called Richard and the Postman, Saucers 2020 a “work of unparalled genius.” Quentz agreed (after he got out of the bush again). “It’s been very popular in the [science fiction] community, certainly helped by the role-playing game of the same name. The game’s creator Jonny Shaa will be in attendance and he will host several showings of the film throughout the weekend and also the 2020 tournament in one of the smaller ballrooms. We’ve already had 150 gamers apply, so it should be a…”
We pushed Quentz into the bush quickly this time, before he could finish.
John Chubbucks
JOHN CHUBBUCKS “We’re delighted to have John for the first time,” said Quentz, after he had climbed out of the bush again and avoided several of our attempts to push him back in. “He’s the world’s foremost authority on collectible stickers, particularly in the science fiction and fantasy realms,” noted Quentz, who eyed us suspiciously. “John will be holding a seminar on how to collect stickers, grading methods, archival storage and peeling-prevention and he will be available to sign copies of his book and also personally assess and grade your own sticker collection.”
“John will be in attendance on the August 1st date and possibly earlier, depending on several of his current medical conditions,” added Quentz. A short silence ensued and then Quentz tried to run but we tackled him, dragged him back to the bush and threw him in.
For more information on the 38th Annual Lankvillicon or to buy tickets, call DOWNTOWN EAST 6288 or visit lankvillicon.org.
Exercise Your Creative Powers with Beautiful Window Boxes!
By D.N. Yathers Special Plant Expert
Have you been feeling sluggish lately? Feeling like maybe you haven’t done anything at all that’s the least bit creative? That you’re a complete piece of garbage? That you’re not sexually-compatible with attractive women? Why not exercise your creative powers then by creating some beautiful window boxes!
A hanging basket of pastel-colored impatiens with a whimsical birdhouse on top is always a great remedy but we’re not going to get into that today. Instead, I want you to pick up several window boxes from your local hardware outlet. They can be plastic but I recommend wood, preferably a nice cedar. It’s OK if it costs a lot– this if for YOU! Now, pile them high in your shopping cart (don’t worry about everyone staring at you), pay for them with a check and head home. You’re ready for your journey!
Lovely window boxes will make you feel creative and alive! (Opinion of the author and not necessarily of the Lankville Daily News)
First, we’re going to affix the cedar boxes to all of your downstairs windows. I generally use two reverse L-shaped brackets, a Braggett clamp and a small Chambers Company hand drill. Use a countersink Temple bit on the pilot hole and slam it in there. You can use a level if you’re really insistent on geometry.
Now, we’re ready for planting! An easy way to make an immediate splash is with a vigorous sweet potato vine. It has a sprawling, lawless shape and its chartreuse foliage really stands out against muted house colors! Shelley really liked the sweet potato vine. “It’s disorderly and uncontained, like me,” she said one time when we were just trying to eat some cakes at a restaurant. Just trying to eat some nice little fluffy hand cakes and she goes and makes a comment like that. The next day I ripped the potato vines straight out but we’re not going to do that today. We’re going to keep them in our lovely cedar window boxes and just wait for the compliments!
Next up, we’re going to consider some Mums. No one in the world is going to complain about a window box full of Mums. Variegated Lamium will compliment the Mums well particularly if you use a lot of dirt. Next, add some contrast. Supertunia Petunias with some Eastern Lankville Stadler Flowerets work well. Rust pansies are nice too against brick or that muted background we talked about earlier. Shelley liked rust pansies. One time, I was potting some rust pansies and she said, “you don’t do it hard and fast enough” and she grabbed my tools and pounded the pansies into that box as though the murderous demons of hell themselves were chasing her. When she added some thin, blonde, dancing geraniums into the mix, I knew exactly what that meant. Exactly.
Let’s move on to accessories! These are best for fall when you can clear out the death that now surrounds you and fill it with little hard corns, gourds, crabapples or tiny Tucker Island pumpkins! For spring and summer, however, I recommend an occasional laying of fine lace or perhaps a colorful bow atop your foliage. Keep it simple– adding too many accessories might give off the impression that you’re a bit of a hillbilly, so be careful!
Now you can sit back and enjoy! Shelley and I had a little patio where we would sit and stare at our window boxes for long periods. The patio is gone now but you can build one again. We’ll look into that next time.
Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.
By Dick Oakes, Jr.
On Thursdays, Sal’s Meats tosses the old shanks out into the weedy area behind the store. A couple of us would wait there, in the high grass, just before sundown. There would usually be a tussle over the better shank; that decided, we would each lurk off into the diminishing sunlight that framed the trash-strewn alley.
On that particular night, I had gotten a bad shank. I could feel it coming and I knew right away that I would have to have a place for the night. I decided on the Park Plaza– 105 rooms (there were actually 93), swimming pool (it was half-filled with murky water), TV, fine foods (these had long since disappeared). I wouldn’t be needing any fine foods anyway, not tonight.
“You look a little sick pal,” said the desk clerk, a fat swarthy guy who was wearing a hairpiece attached to the top of his head by a thin red band that ran down both cheeks and hooked beneath his chin. It was ridiculous but I didn’t say anything. “You’re not gonna’ throw up all in there like some kind of egregious rascal are you? You ain’t a barbarian pal, are you?”
I put some bills on the counter and signed the tattered register (a pad on a clipboard).
“You ain’t gonna put a half-inflated balloon in a lube-filled sock between the mattress and box spring and then go all to hell on it, are you?” he asked, taking the money and making change (incorrectly).
“I just want to lie down,” I said. “Can I go lie down?”
He looked me up and down, let out a little huff and walked back to the office desk (there was a game show playing on a black and white TV, propped up by a phone book). I took the key.
The room was decorated in dark greens. There was a lumpy bed and a couple of end tables. They hadn’t emptied the ashtrays. I checked on the bathroom. It was tiled in a sort of sea-foam color and there was room enough to lie on the floor. I found a closet full of spongy blankets and put one in there just in case.
I lay still for a couple of hours, focusing my eyes on a meaningless crack in the ceiling plaster. Then, I started to feel a little better. I went to the bathroom, blew out the shank, and then found myself wanting a drink. When I pulled back the front curtains, I found it was night.
I walked outside. There were a couple of blondes sitting in cheap folding chairs out front of the next cabin. Some guys were surreptitiously hauling in some lighting and recording equipment. I breathed in some air and hit one of the guys up for a cigarette.
“We’re gonna’ be making some motel wrestling films all night,” he volunteered. “Maybe a little bit of hardcore, we’ll see how the carpets hold up.” We both looked at the big sign out front– much of the neon already burned out. “I’ll tell the girls to keep it down,” he said.
I went to the office for some ice. The same guy was in there, watching TV on the same little squirrely shitbox.
“Lemme’ have some ice,” I said. I plunked down a dollar.
“Let me ask you something. Are they making scream films in 117? I can’t have no scream films here. This is a family place– lookit’, we got a pool and all.”
“I mind my own business,” I said. I tapped my fingers on the counter.
“Well, I ain’t got no ice. And I’ll figure it out if you’s involved in them scream films too. You look like the kind of guy that’d be holding up them lights they got.”
I ignored him and headed for the Island joint down the street. There was no telling where this would end up.
Royer’s Madcap Experiences: I, River Dick
By Ric Royer
It was a muddy, debris-choked tributary of a much greater but unseen river. Several greying, dilapidated highway overpasses blotted out the sun. The trees along the banks were dead and gangly. But someone wanted it protected. They decided I was the man.
I, River Dick.
My interview took place in a forlorn trailer, littered with trash. The foreman was decidedly obese– his fat rolls could not be contained by his undersized, cheese-stained sweatshirt. He sat behind an overflowing clothes hamper. I sat on a stool. I suspected he lived here.
“You ever do any river dicking before?”
Typical muddy debris-choked tributary. There’s a guy and a dog on the banks.
“Nope.”
“You ever done any carnival work?”
“Once”.
“OK. It’s like that.”
I was hired on the spot and issued a bright yellow pantsuit and a revolver. The first day passed without incident.
On the second day, some droids attempted to fill their pails under the overpass. I confronted them.
“You can’t fill those pails here.”
A long series of computational beeps ensued. One of the droids issued a small, printed-out index card. It read, “CHEESE OFF, HUMAN.”
I didn’t think twice about it. I blew them all away and buried them beneath some rocks.
On the third day, the foreman called me in.
“Did you kill some droids?”
“Yep. You know what– I don’t even feel bad about it.”
“Well, some guys at the lab feel bad about it. And they’re making me feel pretty damn bad about it too.”
“They egged me on. They were asking for it,” I added. “You know it, I know it, they know it.”
“That’s fine,” he said, after a long silence. “We’ll cover it up. Just go back along the banks and make sure the parts are pretty well-hidden.”
I did as I was told. But the parts were gone. The rest of the day passed without incident.
On the fourth day, the foreman called me in again. As I was approaching the trailer, I noticed something odd. There were tracks there, made by rolling droids. They led off towards the woods. There was an overhang there, covered by odd brush that didn’t belong. It was a setup. I was being sacrificed.
I hotwired the foreman’s pickup and headed for Lankville Beach.
I, River Dick.
Woman in a Man’s World
By Robin Brox
It was getting close to lunchtime and I was hanging around my plush office in the uncolored condiment factory sticking some bendable straws into a desk fan. Time was creeping along. I had to shake things up.
Cause I’m a woman in a man’s world.
I called downstairs to receiving. Barry picked it up.
“Hey Bare,” I said (he hated that). “Have you been receiving a lot of big stuff today?”
“Sure, Miss Brox. We got them uncolored bacon bits in.”
“Yeah? Big load? Was it a big ol’ load?” I asked. I was starting to feel kind of flush.
He seemed confused. “Well, the usual, Miss Brox. We’re sorting it out now.”
“Yeah? You moving the load around? Sticking it in where we need it, Bare? Filling that hole?”
Bare was starting to breathe hard. “Yep…I got…all my men on it.”
“Yeah, Bare? You tag-teaming those delicate little esoteric realities?”
“They do make a salad Miss Brox. I admit to it.”
“They make it flower don’t they, baby? It opens up like a bloom in spring, Bare?”
There was a long pause. “Well…I like ’em, Miss Brox. But they are just bacon bits.”
That killed it. I sat up straight. “Fine then Barry. Good work.” I slammed the phone down.
I took off early and headed down to the parking lot where the weightlifters hung out.
Cause I’m a woman in a man’s world.
Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.: Murder on the Southern Limited
By Dick Oakes, Jr.
I had won a little money at cards so I bought a sleeper car ticket on the Southern Limited.
It was a tiny fourth class room with a window and two cots. The guy opposite me was wearing a crumpled suit. I had had an awful lot of beer, so I kept having to get up during the night to piss. Every time I did, just as I was about to close the sliding door into the corridor, the guy ripped his pants off suddenly.
After a couple hours of this, I grew weary. I hesitated to get back into my cot, hesitated to touch anything. Around 3AM, the porter brought a bucket of small pizzas. He said, “Look, fellows. Small pizzas. They’re just like regular pizzas only smaller. They have all the rudimentary ingredients of a pizza, they are standard in every other conceivable way, it’s just that they are smaller. They are diminutive pizzas.” He paused and fingered the brass buttons of his uniform. “Please fill out the proper forms once you’ve finished.”
The Southern Limited.
When he was finally gone, my bunkmate leaped onto the buckets and devoured the pizzas handily. I allowed it; I figured on it being his last meal. When he was almost done, he started to slowly unzip his pants. That’s when I brained him.
I crept out into the corridor and waited for the next stop. It was another empty station, another dimly-lit, dead mill town. There was a sign that said Welcome to Heaves and a smaller, faded sign for the Koala Bears and Walnuts Club. Eventually, I came upon a country line store. I fell asleep in a rocking chair on the porch.
I was nudged awake by a hairless man; he was seven foot tall if he was an inch. He told me that I had to buy something and he had the meat to back it up. It was then that I realized my wallet was gone.
He put me to work repairing the rusted corrugated shingles of the porch roof. He called me down for lunch and I ate some small pizzas out of a bucket in the merciless sun. I was so exhausted that I did not question the recent preponderance of small pizzas. It was late evening when he finally let me go. “In the name of all that is decent, you should be dead,” he said. He handed me a bottle and some highly-compressed hams in a paper bag and sent me on my way.
I wandered into town. There was another closed feed store but I stayed away from it. Went around back to sleep in the waving fields of alfalfa. It was there that I found Zelda and things changed forever.
Royer Changes Name to “Frater-Xerxes”
By Larry “God” Peters
Eccentric Lankville business magnate Ric Royer announced today that he has changed his name to “Frater-Xerxes”.
Frater Xerxes’ (Ric Royer’s) most recent mental institution portrait.
“I’m set with Frater-Xerxes now,” announced Royer, from a rural mountain carnival somewhere in the Lankville Mountain District. “It’s a process guys, it’s a process.”
Royer was unsure of the historical origins of the name. “It was given to me by a magical mountain sage who I met while buying a rubber raincoat. When he came up to me, the raincoat burst spontaneously into flames,” noted the Frater. “I knew then that I would follow him.”
The Frater is using the carnival as a test-run for his new pretzel and frosted nut kiosks, set to begin operation in Lankille-area malls during the winter.
“We’ll start up here, feeding people who don’t matter,” said the Frater, who was clad in a strange brown robe with a see-through outer jacket made of wire and trash bags. “I can test my machines easier here and if anything happens to any of these customers, then it’s just a matter of dragging their lifeless corposes into the woods. There’s not a lot of people horning around, asking troublesome questions here. The air is fresh and God-like and there is no burden. Seed spilled into the ground will turn into a mighty tree.”
The Frater was then asked about his controversial mall retail space/home.
“It’s glorious, full of wonders. We have been through a lot this year and…”
(The interview had to be ended when the uneven legs of the Frater’s picnic table caused an extra-large soda to spill on the ground. No one helped the Frater and there was an interminable period of deep confusion and darkness).
The Electronics Cranny: What’s New in Desk Calculators!
Neil Cuppy Electronics Expert
For many years, it was only possible to use a calculating machine that was housed in a distant, dark room at the back of your office. This machine took up an enormous amount of space, caught fire easily and emitted a harmful mercury vapor thrust ray that occasionally caused nearby victims to be cut in half. Thankfully, in the past decade, great strides have been made in the field of desk calculating machines and they now take up about the same amount of space one would allot to a pizza or a gigantic tray of fries.
Consolidated Lankville Calculator Model R285
“Every year, we’re going to see the calculating machine get smaller,” noted Jarrad Heaths, an engineer with Consolidated Lankville, one of the nation’s biggest manufacturers of calculator electronics. “Eventually, I think, they will become small enough that one will be able to stick them into one’s pocket,” added Heaths, who pointed at his breast pocket for illustrative purposes. “You’ll maybe be able to get a little case for them and you can put them in your pocket, maybe fill all your pockets with calculating machines, walk around like that. That is really our aim here at Consolidated Electronics.”
Trade magazines consider the Consolidated Model R285 to be the best desk calculator on the market. “It has a lot of functions and it comes with a thick canvas tarp,” said Heaths, who allowed us to briefly paw at the gigantic machine. “You’ll note instantly that you can type 12 numbers on the digital display face. There are also these little vents on the top of the machine which allow for cooling. The R285 does put off a lot of heat and, in extreme cases, fire which is something we’re working on,” admitted Heaths. “We advise in tiny print at the back of the 382-page manual that you only use the R285 for 15 minutes at a time, allowing then for 30 minute “cool-off” periods. Still, this is better than our competitors.”
Briss, Inc. is one such competitor. Briss Calculators began producing calculators just three years ago. “I got hooked and I when I get hooked, I go all out. That’s why my last name is Calculators. I had it legally changed. It used to be “Hubbard,” said the executive, who was interviewed in a windowless, brown-paneled office built into the side of a rural hill. “The R285 is all well and good but it’s got no elan, no pizzazz. I mean, a guy that buys an R285– he doesn’t get excited about it like you’d get excited by a sports car or tits. He just says, “Well, guess we need one of these,” and he doesn’t even bother to look at it. Just takes it out of the box and dumps it on a desk. Briss aims to change all that.”
Pastoral setting where a BI002 was located.
Indeed, a Briss is all about design. Their catalogue currently features six models, all of them impossible to ignore. “They are very conceptual,” noted objet d’art critic Fritz Mallarme. “We are already seeing them featured in exhibits,” added Mallarme, who was wearing a balloon tie. “Even the way in which they are packaged is intriguing. The BI002, for example, is purchased at an ordinary electronics store. However, the buyer must “find” the machine, which is often located in a pastoral setting. It’s quite outre.”
Technically, however, the Briss has not been popular in the trade magazines. “Well they put them in fields,” said electronics expert Dan Awnings, an occasional contributor to The Electronics Cranny. “The rain, the dew ruins them. You end up with a digital face that is only partly readable.” Awnings took a moment to look around in disgust. “Also, they catch fire pretty easily too. The desk calculator has a long way to go still.”
Look for further updates in future columns of The Electronics Cranny.
Robots to Monitor Parks
By Bernie Keebler
Senior Staff Writer
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS, YES!
In an attempt to curb the recent rise of “park challenges”, the Lankville Bureau of Probes announced yesterday that they will be installing mechanical police robots as early as next week.
“Many people go to the park,” said Detective Gee-Temple, who is spearheading the initiative. “They go and then they see a challenge, maybe two. And it ruins their picnic, volleyball game or make-out session,” noted Gee-Temple, who gave a short press conference this morning in which a large sheet cake was served. “The Lankville Bureau of Probes have collaborated with the Electronics Cranny to create this new “park robot” which will hopefully help to ebb this recent wave of challenges that have afflicted our great country.”
Detail of “park robot”.
Gee-Temple then removed a sheet from an object behind him. It turned out to be a “park robot”.
The intrepid detective then invited the creator of the “park robot” Fritz Tennis to the lectern.
“Each of these robots has been trained in the art of disrupting a challenge,” noted Tennis, an inventor and frequent Electronics Cranny columnist.
“Their strong mechanical arms and molded steel “grippers” or “hands”, if you will, are specifically designed to overwhelm the challenger, engulf him in robot and ultimately keep the challenger shackled until further police or robot help can arrive.”
“The “park robots” are also designed to shoot people in the face if necessary,” added Tennis.
Tennis suddenly left through a side door and no further questions were taken.
Oral Histories of Some Former Lankville Pugilists
By Lerd “Candyman” Wassler (1945-1959, 82W, 75L, 29KO)
I was born in a log cabin. My Dad was some kind of a laborer– he was the guy that would stand in a hole and they would pile dirt on him. I never did find out what kind of profession that was– never did hear about it being an actual profession again, never knew anybody else who had that profession and believe me, I asked around. Mom stayed at home with the kids and made candy for a shop the next town over. That’s how come I got the nickname “The Candyman” even though I didn’t actually like candy, was sick to death of the stuff and later on, after I made some money, I specifically sought out a town to live in that was bereft of candy shops which, let me tell you, isn’t easy to do.
So, one time Dad came home just covered in dirt as usual and told me that there was going to be a boxing match between two hillbillies. “Bare-fisted too,” he said, through the dirt. He took me and some of my brothers down to see it and there was these two shirtless guys in overalls and one of them had a two-by-four and the other had a snake and he had some bells around his neck– I wasn’t sure what that was supposed to be about. And they had this loudmouth prancing around outside the ring with one of those telemegaphones that he had taken off some old phonograph player. Well, turns out it was wrestling. And, I’ll tell you what, Dad never did know the difference between the two sports. He always proudly told people that his son was a big-time wrestler after I made it big. One time I brought him a boxing magazine with my picture on the cover and the title of the magazine was “BOXING” in big bright orange letters and he teared up (he was covered in dirt even then) and said he couldn’t believe that his son was on the cover of a wrestling magazine. I never did try after that.
Anyways, turns out the syndicate behind that hillbilly wrestling match also organized boxing and I went and tried out for it. They put me in the ring against a guy who was wearing a paper hat– I never did understand it– but I knocked him out anyway and then they brought in this ex-con from the next town over and I knocked him out too and so then that was the beginning of my career after that.
My first match was at the old Lankville Round Garden against Floyd Dean, who ended up getting his head chopped off a few years later, you may remember. Anyways, Floyd was a guy who’d throw a hell of a lot of punches, not land any of ’em and then he’d tend to fall over backwards. And that’s exactly how we played it out and sure enough, Dean fell over backwards in the 4th. His manager was hot– kept saying that he’d chop Dean’s head off himself and all this other stuff about chopping heads off and so I guess it ain’t no surprise what happened to poor Floyd in the end.
Wassler vs. Porps, 1945.
After that, I won a lot of $500 (Lankville) fights where you’d get paid $250 to show and $500 to win. I ran up a pretty good record along that circuit which was mostly out in the prairies or in the desert. Then, I went back to the Garden and fought for the Tawny Gloves Competition and I beat Ray “The Scotch” Woolson and then they gave me a big trophy and at the very top of the trophy was these two boxers squaring off and they was in gold and you couldn’t miss it. So I went back up to see Mom and Dad and I went into the living room and there was Dad, covered in dirt and with all these rolled-up posters on the couch next to him. Must’ve been a hundred of ’em. I never did find out what that was supposed to be about and, believe me, I asked around. Anyways, I go up to Dad and I say to him, “Dad, look at this boxing trophy I won”. And he took it in his dirty hands and he looked at the bright, shimmering cloth along the sides and he cried and said that I was a good wrestler and so that was the last time I even worried with trying to explain that whole business.
The matches everybody remembers me for best are my fights with Glenn L. Porps in 1948. And I think that’s because Glenn L. and I just pounded one another for 12 rounds and finally they said, “OK, that’s enough. We’ll settle this later” and everybody just walked away. Glenn L. and I couldn’t figure on any of it– they just emptied the arena real fast and left us there. It was the damndest thing and I never did get no adequate explanation for it. And then they said, “You boys come back and we’ll try this again”. So they had a rematch and Glenn L. and I both said at the weigh-in, “Now there’s gonna’ be a winner tonight, right?” and they said they wouldn’t guarantee nothing and a couple promoters got real hot at us and I saw one guy put our checks in a safe.
This time, we both took it easy. There was a round, the 4th I think, where we didn’t throw a single punch, neither one of us. The crowd started booing, started throwing things like popcorn boxes and chairs and wet towels. But we kept on about it. But anyways, they did announce a winner for this one and it turned out to me but it just as easily could have been Glenn, nobody had no idea. I don’t think Glenn ever did recover from any of it. Last time I saw him, he was sitting in the woods eating fried chicken by himself. He wasn’t even using no napkin– his face and his chin was just glistening from chicken grease. It was a sad sight.
After that I lost as many as I won and I just called it quits in ’59 after I found myself boxing at the opening of a grocery store. I thought, “this is sad here, Lerd, you’re better than this” and then I did end up buying some groceries but still I didn’t have no passion for it no more.
Spent twenty years in the highway business. I’d go stand on the highway, wait for somethin’ to happen. It was alright. I’m retired now and I keep a good house. Never did marry. I always did say that why would you buy the cow when…”
(Wassler suddenly became very confused and was unable to finish his aphorism).
Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.: Third Class into the Western Sun
By Dick Oakes, Jr.
I told the guy at the ticket office to get me on a car as soon as possible. He dallied a bit, played for a few minutes with a paddle-ball game, then shoved a third-class ticket on the Lankville Western Limited into my hand. Departure time: 45 minutes.
I wandered into the station and picked out three nature photography magazines. Some tard came up and pressed a little cardboard box into my hand. It read, “FOR THE LARGE MAN”.
“What the hell is this?”
“Open it…jus’…open it up,” he said. He guffawed uncontrollably between the words.
It was a rubber that looked like it was made for a horse.
“Idn’t that…idn’t that real funny?” he said. He wandered off. I looked at the guy at the ticket office. He shrugged his shoulders.
We boarded an hour later. I noticed that the tard was in my car and this worried me. There was also a furtive Islander in a suit, this worried me further. I figured on getting off at the next stop.
Typical transload shed for humus and peat.
It was a lonely country station and the sun was about to go down. It was just me and a cute piece of blonde trash that got off– the tard and the Islander stayed on. There was a guy sweeping the floor inside.
“Where’s there to go here?” I asked.
He thought a minute.
“There’s a transload shed for humus and peat down the road.”
“I don’t figure on them having a bed to sleep in, do you?”
“Naw. Guess not.”
Jackass I thought. I contemplated punching him suddenly in the gut but the piece of blonde trash was there and I didn’t want to cause a scene.
It was a dirt road that led into a tired old mill town. The piece of blonde trash followed about 50 yards behind me. I felt that we were both walking into a burning western sun and that neither of us would ever be forgiven. But when I next looked behind me, I saw that the piece of blonde trash was on a porch, far in the distance, being greeting lovingly by two elderly lesbians. Everybody has somebody but me I thought.
I walked back to the station and punched the attendant in the gut.
Then I felt a little better.
Belvedere Mauled by Bear
By Grady Kitchens
Senior Staff Writer
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS, YES!
Lankville Daily News columnist Brock Belvedere, Jr. was badly mauled by a bear Wednesday evening in the cafeteria at the Lankville Memorial Discount Zoo in the Western Valley Area. Belvedere is currently in critical condition.
Zoo officials stated that the bear entered the cafeteria via an access doorway that was accidentally left ajar. He immediately attacked the 52-year old journalist.
“Bundles”, 2005-2014
“He [Mr. Belvedere] was eating alone and “Bundles” had somehow climbed out of our historical bear pit, went up a stairway into the cafeteria unnoticed and just got all up in Mr. Belvedere’s cranny,” noted zoo official Rance Keepers. “Fortunately, pretty much all of our patrons were carrying guns and they shot Bundles dead.”
The Lankville Bureau of Probes has already opened an investigation.
“Obviously, we’ve had a number of problems with the Lankville Memorial Discount Zoo,” noted lead prober Detective Gee-Temple. “You have the President [Dr. Pondicherry] being eaten by a lion, you have the incident a few years back with Ric Royer getting his arm stuck in a trash receptacle shaped like a lion’s head, you have that terrible zoo peeper that used to hang from trees. Clearly, an investigation is warranted.”
Belvedere is being treated at Vitiello Decorative Hams hospital.
“We may have to do some surgery,” said Dr. Alvin Parrish, who was interviewed by telephone. “His head is basically off. I mean, it’s still on but really it’s about off. I think bears like to eat heads the best and that’s what we’re seeing here today, Grady.”
Belvedere has been a senior staff writer for the News since 1979.
Timely Salad Tips by Brenda Buford
The salad is a very important part of the meal. This fact is appreciated by more women each year. Furthermore, most of our husbands who used to scorn “rabbit food” now realize that the modern salad can be hearty, robust, and full of vitamins. The salad has come into its own.
A grave error made by most hostesses is the repeated serving of the same simple salad. Sliced tomatoes on crisp lettuce leaves makes a good salad but this dish should not appear with the same regularity as say, potatoes, lap cakes or breads. Salads should be varied as new fruits and vegetables come in season.
I noticed early on in my marriage to Glenn, for example, that he tended to be disappointed with the appearance of the simple salad more than once upon a week. Although he never said anything, later I would see him in the yard destroying a wicker clothes hamper (he is a wicker clothes hamper salesman). I learned then the importance of variety.
Right now, we have the Minger Pear and the Tokay Grape in season– both delicious salad fruits that should be used immediately if ripe. The Minger Pear is an extremely juicy fruit that adds zest and flavor to any salad– be careful though! The Minger Pear is known to elicit an explosion of hot, wet, juices upon its piercing. Have a towel at the ready to stop the sizzling, gushing, potent juices. The Tokay is a red grape from the outer Lankville regions– it is known for its dynamic, well-formed berries. I have heard it said that the berries are so hale that they often hang low in the orchards. Straggly bunches with damaged berries are obviously inferior.
With the right kind of stout, potent fruits now in hand, try the following recipe on your family or guests.
Floating Coronado Salad
2 tablespoons gelatin
1 can of lard
2 cups boiling water
1/2 cup sugar
2 lemons
1/2 cup Minger Pear, sliced
4 pairs of rugged, juicy, heavy berries
Mayonnaise
Figs
Now, let’s begin by soaking the gelatin in cold water and then suddenly adding the boiling hot water. This will help to agitate the compounds and also what makes this a “floating” salad. Now, bring the lard and the sugar over to the counter’s edge. Hold your bowl of water one foot beneath the counter and push the entire container of lard into the bowl. Obviously, the water will splash out, maybe get all over your apron and maybe even run down your leg but don’t worry– part of making a salad is not being afraid to get a little dirty! Now, remove the entire container of lard from the bowl and push out two paddles worth (if a paddle is not available, try improvising– I’ve used broken pieces of the destroyed wicker clothes hampers from my backyard!) Now, grab hold of those lovely juice-laden berries and let them fall from your hand slowly into the bowl. Follow this by cutting up the lemons. Now serve on lettuce and mayonnaise.
You will never regret the slight effort necessary to prepare these unusual and seasonable salads.
Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.: Big Trouble at Johnny Plechino’s
By Dick Oakes, Jr.
Johnny Plechino himself came out and told me to put the “Pizza Pie” sign back up. It had fallen to the curb and killed a homeless.
“Where do you want it?”
Johnny Plechino rubbed his chin. He was a fat, slovenly man who perpetually wore tomato sauce-stained T-shirts, after a fashion. As if that weren’t bad enough, I personally hated Islanders.
“Fix it up to hang from the second floor,” he finally said. “You can go up the back staircase.”
Johnny Plechino’s
I had to go through Johnny Plechino’s filthy bachelor apartment. There were stag magazines and films everywhere. I could hear the complete madness of next door issuing through the paper-thin walls– it was Big Ed’s Barbeque– nobody had any idea what went on in there. All I heard was a moaning in crescendo and the sound of things being suddenly deflated. I decided to mind my own business.
I threw up the sash of Johnny Plechino’s bedroom window. It was a degenerate street that Johnny Plechino had decided to open a carry-out on– there was scum everywhere. Some guy had a basket on his head and was urinating against a lamppost. That was the kind of thing you had to put up with around Johnny Plechinos.
I fixed up the old brass holder and replaced the sign. It blew listlessly in the wind. Then, I heard a door open. It was a gorgeous piece of eye candy, fresh out of the shower.
“I’m clean,” she said.
We humped.
Come to find out, it was Johnny Plechino’s girl. Turns out, he had a pile of money and he kept her there, in that trash-strewn apartment. And he knew about me and her right away.
That’s when I figured there would be big trouble at Johnny Plechino’s (titular line).
I Have Created a Members-Only Rare Sticker Database
By John Chubbucks Sticker Expert
I have created a members-only rare sticker database. It’s $39.99 a month to join.
What do you get for that money? Only the single greatest rare sticker database in the world that has ever and will ever be created.
I have classified all rare stickers according to a lettering system of my own creation followed by binary code. For example, the very rare 1975 Buntz Mallows’ Richard and the Postman set is known as PPHX-110001. Each individual sticker in the set (there are 12 known to exist) are thus identified as PPHX-110001-1, PPHX-110002 and so on and so forth. I only identify those stickers adhering to the MINT IN WRAPPER Chubbucks condition rating. Everything below that grade is crap.
Using this code, you will be able to find every rare sticker known to mankind as well as comprehensive data on the sticker’s production, release date, distribution details and a photo of front and back. You will find AT MINIMUM three paragraphs on the type of adhesive used. Exact measurements are included. There is no greater resource in the known world.
I have been working on this database (in addition to my numerous other projects) since 1989 so you can be sure I have exhausted all known, secondary resources. My bibliography is impeccable, beyond reproach.
You can pay by check by sending $39.99 each month to John Chubbucks, c/o Linda Chubbucks, 268 Spoons Road, Eastern Lankville or by PayBuddy at chubbucksstickergod.spummail.net. Make checks out to CASH.
You won’t be disappointed.
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