Archive
Eldritch Canisters Have Been Haunting Royer
By Joel Tweez Resort Correspondent
A series of eldritch canisters have been haunting business magnate and Lankville Daily News correspondent Ric Royer for many months now, the executive is confirming.
“The canisters appear at twilight, often in the garden,” said Royer during a morning interview on some boats. “Then, when I finally give in to repose about midnight, the canisters begin their infernal rolling, back and forth down my driveway. It goes on all night. And with this noise, comes an ungodly howl.”
Royer has alerted authorities but to no avail.
Typical canisters. These canisters are not haunted but are merely shown for illustrative purposes.
“Some cops came but they just ended up ogling my East-Island neighbor. Admittedly, she has fine tits for an East Islander.”
Royer even hired a security guard to man the driveway of his resort home in hopes of preventing the canisters from gaining access to the yard. The guard was found the next morning with a frozen look of terror on his expired face.
“I may have to abandon the mansion temporarily and move back to the mall,” admitted the eccentric tycoon.
Yeah, I’ll Make a Little Presentation Oar for You
By Floyd Tingley
Yeah, sure– you need a little presentation oar? I’m your man. I’ve been making little presentation oars for 25 years. Started out making ’em out of discarded table legs. Man, I used to have a whole basement full of discarded table legs– don’t ask me how. Seriously, don’t ask me how because I WILL NOT answer you.
Anyways, you can pick from a couple different styles. When I’m done, I’ll even put a little plaque on there. It’ll say, for example, “TO MILT, FROM FLOYD”. That’s just an example– man, I’ll put anything you want on there as long as you’re not making a mockery of things. I don’t have patience for that.
People, say, what am I gonna’ do with this little presentation oar once I receive it? Well, they’re perfect for your den, office, yacht club or basements. Creates that nautical look. The freedom of the open sea. Now, they’re presentation only– we need to understand that right away. You can’t actually use this oar. You won’t get anywhere if you try to use this oar, I’m telling you that right now. I got a little warning sticker on the side letting people know that they’ll die if they try to take a craft out with just this oar. No doubt in my mind.
I gave one to my son last Easter. He’s a professor out at the University. He’s got a whole den full of books. I said– “why don’t you just throw away some of the books on that shelf and then you can put the oar there for display purposes?” I told him I’d help him throw them away. I don’t think he ever did do it though– I saw the oar on a small hill in his backyard last time I was there. Who knows what these kids think these days? Sure don’t seem to have a sense about creating that nautical look– that freedom of the open sea. You won’t get me in some classroom, I’ll tell you that. You can’t learn to make little presentation oars in a classroom, that’s for sure.
You can write me: Tingley Little Presentation Oars, 55 Knobs, South Lankville, 2-111. Serious inquiries only. I really don’t have time to mess around with someone who’s only half-hearted about little presentation oars. Besides, little presentation oars sell themselves. You don’t want on the list, fine, free up your spot in line.
They’re $195.
The opinions of Mr. Tingley are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News and its subsidiaries.
Royer’s Madcap Experiences: It Was Orange…and Emitted Vapors!
By Ric Royer
When I first saw the Thing, it was throwing a car into a ravine. It stood as tall as a large building, its center completely amorphous. It emitted an eerie yellow vapor and it appeared to have the strength of something superhuman– indeed, when it was done with the car-hurling it moved to a nearby train trestle and crushed it easily with its fist.
This girl I was seeing and occasionally having boring intercourse with, let out a loud scream. LOOK AT THAT HORRIBLE THING! LOOK AT IT! I laughed and stared her down. There was an old clamshell bucket that someone had left to rust by a barn. “Go sit in that,” I told her. She did as I said.
The next thing was to figure out how to bring the orange beast down. A piece of paper blew against my shin. I picked it up– would it yield a clue to the mystery of the terrible monster? And I read: “it also has 2 fish crates with fish in them! Just add a delivery figure and you have a great delivery scene…” I tore it apart in frustration. And then the beast was upon me.
Artist’s rendering
Later, I would realize how lucky I was. If not for that senseless hole, I would certainly have perished. I climbed in and waited until the monster had satiated his mad, violent desires by destroying a series of nearby homes. Then he went away, I think. I don’t care really.
After that, I traveled into the Lankville back country– an area called “the Forest Quarter”. There were a series of fallen towns that had been destroyed during the Depths War; bereft stone walls and a series of windowless parish houses were all that remained. I stopped at a graveyard– the stones had mostly been lifted and replaced with little advertising placards. Still, I was able to locate several relatives. I didn’t know or remember any of them and yet, it was calming to stand there, reading my last name again and again.
I was suddenly hungry. Although nothing lived in this ancestral town, I managed to find a Pappy’s Chicken on the outskirts. I ordered a bucket. The guy behind the counter asked about the orange monster.
“You don’t wanna’ know about that fucking shit,” I said, allowing the chicken grease to run down my chin. “You’re better off right here. That thing is a nightmare.”
I ordered some fries.
“Just regular fries?” the guy asked.
“Yep. Fix ’em up in bacon fat, would you?”
“I can do that. We don’t have napkins, I’ll warn you now. But there’s a little pond out back.”
“Yeah, fine.”
The guy put on a little TV. Nothing came in from the cities.
I finished off the chicken and then went to the pond. Night came.
Pondicherry: “I’m a Levi-Straussian Totemist…and a Gay Bozo”
By Larry “God” Peters
Following several hours of television and restrained puzzles, hospitalized President Albert C. Pondicherry, Jr. entertained Lankville Daily News reporters with exploits of his intellectual adventures.
“Well, I’m a Levi-Straussian totemist, of course,” said Pondicherry, who also spent the morning snapping bras and creating complex messes in the nurse’s station. “In the Manido System, we have eagles, geese and the chthonian snakes. Sometimes birds are invoked in my special breed of sexual totemism. The woodpecker and the superb warbler become symbols of how my sex and my liquids of life relate to the plant kingdom.”
Blurry image of President Pondicherry
“I’m also a gay bozo,” the President added.
When pressed further about this comment, Pondicherry immediately alighted on the subject of brush piles. “Have you seen the new offerings from the Hadbawnik Company? They have ascended to the apogee of their business with these new piles– it is a splendid, towering achievement.”
After wolfing down a carafe of viscous coffee and a plate of steamed little pizzas, Pondicherry continued. “In the sexual totemist world, the sorcerer (who is Me) exhibits a tamed animal as proof of his power. The animal then lends its services to the sorcerer, by becoming a spy and finding out which of the upstarts has the most exuberant member. If a masculine totem becomes injured in this manner, for example, if a tent collapses, then the entire sexual group feels insulted and a dispute will likely ensue.”
Pondicherry then requested an additional plate of little pizzas but was denied by a surly nurse. “Ah, but I strapped her bra earlier,” he said, confidently. “She will not deny me later.”
The President refused to answer questions about his health, referring to such inquiries as “meatless bagatelles” and “streamless micturations”.
He is expected to be released sometime next week.
Pondicherry Hospitalized; Discusses Hobbies
By Gump Tibbs
Newly sworn-in President Albert Pondicherry, Jr. became violently ill last night and had to be hospitalized. The President was in good spirits this morning, however, and entertained reporters with an account of his favorite hobby.
President Pondicherry, Jr. has a peculiar hobby.
“Bra-snapping in my roomy pants,” Pondicherry answered unequivocally when asked. “I put on a pair of extremely roomy pants. I like to have a lot of room in the waist, groin and around the top of the thighs. Then I go out to a place where I know there will be a preponderance of elegant older women shopping for objets d’art. I feign interest in the same objet d’art. I try to horn in on the objet d’art, you know, to make them feel a little bit uncomfortable. As they turn away, I grab their bra from behind and snap it powerfully.”
“Oh my friends, it is a wonderful, wonderful, exquisite experience.”
The President ejaculated a booming, joyous laugh before reporters were escorted out of the room by a surly nurse.
The nature of Pondicherry’s illness is currently unknown.
Beast Appears
By Bernie Keebler
A beast appeared today, sources are confirming.
“I was lying in my bra and panties by the window when I first saw it,” noted witness Lisa Sisters-Pulldrawers. “I did not cover myself but merely let out a horrific scream. I had just time enough to paint a picture of the horrible creature.”
According to Sisters-Pulldrawers, the beast then took off towards the East.
Lisa Sisters-Pulldrawers had just enough time to executive this crude painting of the alleged beast.
Lankville conspiracy theorists and millenarians are already attributing the appearance of the beast to the election of Albert C. Pondicherry, Jr.
“If you look into the background of Pondicherries [sic], you’ll know about his secret late-night meetings, the various ritualistic scars that he bears upon his body, his interest in mysterious back rooms,” noted local lunatic Edvard Collins, from his darkened, book-lined study. “This beast appeared in Lankville to remind us of our terrible misfortune in having him elected. I only worry that now it’s too late.”
As of press time, the beast has not been located.
“We’re looking for it,” noted Detective Gee-Temple, who was standing in some tall grass. “It’s a process.”
Pondicherry, Jr. Named President
By Brock Belvedere
Albert C. Pondicherry, Jr. was named President of Lankville last night, as expected.
A junta, which consisted of several Lankville business magnates and a small armed force, elected the 38-year old son of the recently-deceased President in a landslide.
“A consensus was reached. Lankville has a new leader,” noted Decorative Ham tycoon Chris Vitiello, who gave a short press conference outside a “Horn of Comfy Hotel” in Eastern Lankville where the election was held. “Doubtless, you pusillanimous miscreants will begin filling the pages of your various newspapers with the usual bathos.” Vitiello scanned the room slowly. “I should whip you all,” he noted.
The Lankville Daily News is lusciously delighted beyond measure to present the first exclusive interview with President Pondicherry.
BB: You will be replacing your father as President. Big shoes to fill?
Albert C. Pondicherry, Jr.
AP: We’ll see. I’m not healthy enough for any sort of sexual activity.
BB: You were your father’s assistant for many years so I take it that you know the in’s and out’s of Lankville.
AP: I know about the in’s and out’s, I’m just not healthy enough for it.
BB: What do you think possessed your father? Why did he cuss at the lion?
AP: You can take a warmed sponge, lovingly apply it to the nape of a woman or man’s neck, press gently, and watch the stream cascade down their back until it arrives in that gorgeous, esoteric reality just above the haunches. It’s good if you have either candles or a hard film light as it will flicker and glow in the water. Your choice.
BB: Do you intend to make any changes during your Presidency?
AP: Find yourself some long, brown, grape-flavored cigarettes. Over dinner, suddenly light one up. Blow the smoke slowly into a woman or man’s face. Flick the cigarette away without breaking their gaze. Don’t worry if it burns someone. The world has suddenly become very small, there is a flash followed by several low concussions. That is the sound of their heart.
BB: Are you…?
AP: Find the mouth of a great underwater cave. Rip off the bikini or tight zebra-patterned trunks of your lover. Say, “What do you think I am, baby– a pervert? It’s just an expression I use.”
BB: Thank you. Lot of things going on right now in Lankville, huh?
AP: I’m not sure.
Royer’s Madcap Experiences: The Western Town
File Photo
By Ric Royer
I pulled off the Interstate after a long drive and searched around for a hotel. I decided on a place called “Slumberland”– it was bereft of cars and ramshackle but the colorful sign tickled my fancy. Also, there was a girl with giant tits sunning herself outside the office. I got wood immediately.
I paid $29.95 for a room on the end, overlooking a ditch and a runoff. I crossed at the busy intersection, entered a strip mall hardware store and purchased the biggest pipe wrench I could buy. Then, I picked up a roast, some baked beans in a can and a bottle of box wine. Then, I went back to my room.
I picked the mattress up off the bed frame and heaved it against the windows. It blocked out the diminishing sunlight perfectly. Then, I busted up the frame and dragged the pieces out into the runoff. That cleared the middle of the room.
The Slumberland Motel has beds!
I moved the table over and covered it with a bed sheet. Then, I prepared the meal over a fire I set in the bathtub. Everything was cooked to perfection.
I went back outside. The girl had put on a thin robe and was just packing up her portable chaise-lounge and her little plastic table.
“You own this place?” I asked in a slightly threatening manner.
“No,” she said quietly. She offered little else.
“Well, I got a roast, some beans and some box wine in there, just going to waste.” I jiggled my hips a bit.
“I’m vegetarian,” she said. She bent over slightly though, giving me a pretty fair look at the goods.
“Fuck that. You’ll eat the roast.”
There was a long silence. Traffic had died down and the sun was disappearing over the hills.
“OK. I will.”
“Yeah.”
She followed me back to the room. I pulled her chair out for her.
“I’ll be right back.”
I took the pipe wrench and went to the bathroom. I dismantled the u-pipe from beneath the sink and turned the water on full blast. It wasn’t long before it flowed out into the main room.
“It’s like we’re dining on top of a river,” she said excitedly.
“Yep, I think of everything baby.” I shoved some roast into her mouth.
We ate for awhile but then I got sick of it and dumped the table. She moved her chair back quickly, a fork of beans still in her hand.
“Sorry, baby. But the big train is pulling into town right about now.”
It was a long night.
Zookeeper, Zoo Staff Interrogated on Pondicherry Death
By Glitzy Fritz Tannenbaum
Special Zoo Attache
FIle Photo
Lankville police in tandem with the Lankville Bureau of Probes are interrogating the zookeeper and staff of the Lankville Memorial Discount Zoo in connection with the death of President Pondicherry sources are confirming.
The President was eaten by a lion late last night. He was 56.
President Pondicherry’s death could have been prevented.
“There may have been some impropriety here in regards to the caging of the lions,” noted Detective Gee-Temple, one of the first to respond to the scene. “Additionally, we have evidence of misconduct on the part of zoo staff.”
Jerry Papers of Eastern Lankville was a witness to the President’s death.
“When you go to [Lankville Memorial Discount Zoo], you kind of just expect that lions and elephants will be following you around and that there will be no visible sign of any staff whatsoever. There have been a lot of accidents there.”
Papers was suddenly, himself, mauled by a roving panda.
The Lankville Bureau of Probes had already announced by press time that they had completed their inquiry and that 6 individuals had been executed.
“We believe that the President’s death could have been prevented. Justice has been served,” noted an LBP official who refused to be identified. “We are still holding the zookeeper,” added the investigator. “He has a lot of good animal jokes, so we’d like to hear the rest of them and then…” The official trailed off.
President Pondicherry was 56.
BREAKING: PRESIDENT PONDICHERRY DEAD
By Bernie Keebler
Lankville Action News YES! Team
File Photo
President Pondicherry is dead sources are now confirming. He was 56.
Pondicherry was eaten by a lion while visiting Lankville Memorial Discount Zoo yesterday with his 13-year old niece Amber.
President Albert C. Pondicherry: 1958-2014
“He was standing around saying things like HEY ASSHOLE! to the lion and I think that the lion just had enough,” said Amber who was rushed to the hospital after suffering from severe shock. “Uncle Pondicherry had been doing things like that for years, just going up to lions and saying HEY ASSHOLE! and prancing around. Otherwise, of course, he was a quiet, modest man. But everyone knew it was just a matter of time.
Pondicherry’s specific gripe against the lion in question in unknown.
“I won’t say it’s a terrible loss,” said political commentator Terry Coupons of The Lankville Daily News, “let’s just say it’s a loss of sorts.”
Pondicherry had been President of Lankville since 2004. His son, Albert Pondicherry, Jr. is considered an early candidate for the position.
The nation will mourn in a small restrained service to be held Monday.
Musings of a Decorative Ham Man
File Photo
By Chris Vitiello
Decorative Ham Magnate
The bulk of my teenage years were spent in isolation.
There was a hilly dirt path that led away from the village and deep into the woods. Eventually, it let out on a grassy field that overlooked a rambling cold storage facility, seemingly bereft of human activity. There was a concrete sewer pipe that rose vertically from the ground and I used to place a small portable cook stove on its surface and grill hot dogs and buttered half-corns while listening to the sound of the wind through the grasses. It was seldom that I brought a book or radio along.
A Vitiello Decorative Ham makes a great gift. Show that you care today.
I had executed this ritual for a month before I noticed a distinct change. The wind became distinctly more fitful and temperamental (though only when I was cooking hot dogs in the grassy field)– indeed, it was remarked within the confines of the village how seasonable the weather had been that summer.
And then the storms came. It happened first during a visit in early August. A meteorological agitation that came suddenly and without warning and was accompanied by a demented but obscure shout, terse but horrifying. Then, a vicious wind through the grasses that carried off my grill and hot dogs into the sky where they disappeared in a series of black clouds that blotted out all light. I had to take cover against the cement sewer pipe and then, just as abruptly as it appeared, the storm ended and it became warm and bright once again.
This happened on each visit, without fail, throughout the month of August and into September. I accepted it unfailingly, though it required repeated purchases of new cook stoves. “You buy an awful lot of these son,” said the overalled owner of the county line feed store. “You’re not planning some sort of revolutionary attack are you?” I mollified him with long, tiresome stories of charitable camping excursions to buy time. I needed to see the end of this thing through.
The denouement came in early October. It had grown cold. I was on my tenth cook stove. The demented tempest came suddenly; indeed, the coals had just begun to grow orange and my first hot dog had just been placed over the burgeoning fire when it was whisked away. “WHERE WILL IT GO?” I demanded. I was in tears– my emotion had come on as quickly as the storm itself. “I WANT TO KNOW!” And then my sorrow was turned into inexplicable joy. There were no black clouds this time– I could follow the grill as it bobbed in the current like a kite. I watched until it disappeared entirely.
It was then that I knew.
And I never returned.
Woman in a Man’s World
By Robin Brox
The Lankville Daily News is lusciously pleased beyond measure to present a new feature by uncolored condiment magnate Robin Brox which will explore issues of gender and diversity in our modern world.
“Fuck you, you stupid Goombah,” I yelled. Then I threw a framed photograph of my mother at the asshole. That’s when he finally backed out of the office.
I picked up the broken photo. “Oh, Mom,” I said. Then I wept.
On the way home, I pulled into a Meyer’s all-night plantain hut. “I know Shane,” I told the cashier. “I own a hockey team in the Pondicherry Association and he used to. Give me one of those plantains in foil and make it free.” The kid looked at me funny, so I hit him square in the jaw. “Like that baby?” He looked up at me from the floor– he liked it. I told him to lock up.
Afterwards, I sped home at a steady 100MPH clip without braking for a single red light. “Fucking cops. Fucking a-number one fuckheads,” I said to no one in particular. I tried the radio. There was a light little number, light little trumpets. “YEAH, SHITTERS,” I yelled. I don’t know what I meant by it but I enjoyed the Christ out of that song.
When I got home, I kicked the front door so it slammed against the inner wall. There was a big hole there now. I noticed a sickly blue light from the otherwise darkened living room. I stumbled towards it.
Tippy was there. “You gonna’ work on your speech?” he said.
“Your mother’s gonna work on my speech,” I offered.
He sighed. “You gonna’ work on your speech?” he asked again.
“What speech, asshole?” I countered.
“Your speech on the essence of uncolored condiments.”
“Oh, right, that bullshit mouth party. Give me a pen.”
Tippy and I worked for a few hours. Then he put on a program. There were some guys in space that were shooting at some other guys in space. “Look at this conventional jive,” I said. Tippy ignored me and kept watching.
I collapsed on the couch shortly thereafter. I think I threw up in my mouth once but Tippy just bent me over the edge of the couch and let it run out into a pail.
I’m a woman in a man’s world, alright.
Synchronized Patriotic Pinwheel Display Ends in Tragedy
By Hugh G. Pickens
Lankville Action News YES! Team
Crime Beat Reporter
File Photo
A synchronized patriotic pinwheel display accompanied by the release of red, white and orange pigeons ended in tragedy for one Lankville man, sources are confirming.
The event, which was held at the East Island Fairgrounds and Carnival Tent Yard, was part of the celebration of the anniversary of the birth of Pirrapods the Great and was held in front of a darkened, muddy field.
Pinwheels are fun and attractive but meant DEATH for one Lankville area man.
“In the middle of the display, this obese local man, who we have not yet identified, simply fell over silently in his lawn chair and died,” noted Detective Gee-Temple, who was the first to respond to the scene. “Because the fireworks had already begun, no one noticed his death,” the intrepid Gee-Temple added.
“He lay there so long , they were kicking him in the head by accident,” said event sponsor Ric Royer, who proudly noted that he has attended every pinwheel display in Lankville for the past 15 years. “Then a wandering hog came up and just ate the shirt clean off his back. Later on they buried him right where he lay. They just sprinkled some sawdust over the grave, which, because of the intense rain, turned immediately into a giant puddle at which point the corpse just bobbed right up out of the ground and floated downhill where it came to rest in the parking lot of that buffet down there that also sells hats,” said Royer, who stared at this interviewer unblinkingly for nearly a minute before taking his leave.
Investigators are expected to work lightly on the case today.
Royer’s Madcap Experiences: The Gazebo Kit
By Ric Royer
File Photo
I didn’t have a basement but felt that the gazebo kit required one. A well-lit clean tool bench where I could spread my paints out, a steel stool, an old radio with calm, easy-listening trumpets and a triple-layered serving plate stuffed with various cakes to the extent that the cakes had become more horrific than desirable. I had to make that happen.
I cased an appropriate house. The owner carried a lunchpail and wore overalls. I knew his basement would be suitable.
Traditional gazebo kit.
I blew the door off with some low-grade explosives and carefully took the gazebo kit into the basement. It was perfect.
I sat my paints and the kit on the well-tended bench. The pink bakelite radio immediately issued forth the low, soothing music I had hoped for; I could hear frogs from somewhere even though it was winter.
I opened the box. The gazebo was thoroughly researched and finely-crafted and I immediately admired the highly-detailed white metal castings. Here, before me, was an old-fashioned gazebo with a dome roof, latticed side railings and benches. I thought of finely-clad 19th-century Lankville women (perhaps with tits), listening to the music issuing forth from the bandstand as they sipped lemonade on this very structure.
Something happened then. My hand began to shake violently and I smeared brown paint all over the roof– brown paint that had suddenly become thick and viscous and could not be removed. I cursed and then, as I attempted to save the gazebo, I pressed too hard on the supporting beams and the entire structure was destroyed in my hands.
I was temporarily blinded. Then, I saw only a screaming skull encircled by fire. I knew that someone would have to die for this, that real structures would have to be destroyed.
I went upstairs to the kitchen and found some hams and a big can of candy. Then I set off the remaining low-grade explosives. I watched the conflagration from across the street.
The only thing I cared about had been doubly destroyed.
BROCK PENETRATES
By Brock Belvedere, Jr.
Alleged astronaut Nick Del Rio presented a paper outlining his recent space travels to a group of distinguished scientists today at Goddards Famous Astronaut Center in Lankville. The explorer was then presented with several medals from NASPA and met with the media afterwards. Brock Belvedere had a chance to sit down for a one-on-one.
BB: I hate you.
ND: Listen, do you have any real questions?
BB: Let’s talk about Lankville. I know it’s not as important as this space crap but what are your thoughts on the rise of Challenges in the country?
ND: Certainly the country has taken its lumps but I think…
BB: I hate you. Everybody hates you.
ND: …but I think that if we look to President Pondicherry…
Nick Del Rio ASSHOLE
BB: I hope you die in space.
ND: Listen, can I finish please?
BB: OOOH! Look at the big fancy space asshole. I’m a delicate space asshole and I cannot be interrupted.
ND: Alright, we’re done here.
This has been another penetrating interview by Brock Belvedere, Jr.
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