Posts Tagged ‘Grady Kitchens’

Shopping Bag Falls Over, Causes Haunting

January 20, 2015 Leave a comment
By Grady Kitchens

By Grady Kitchens


A shopping bag has fallen over causing a haunting, sources are confirming.

The bag, full of produce, was placed against a kitchen wall by Ms. Hannah Agrarian-Curtains, 28, of the Central Lankville Rural Area.

“I was hurrying to answer my phone and I placed the bag against the wall and it wasn’t propped up right,” said Ms. Agrarian-Curtains, who was sobbing intermittently. “I should have known what would happen.”

Ms. Agrarian-Curtains claims that the collapse of the bag kicked off a chain of events, the repercussions of which are still being felt in the area hours later.

Artist's rendering of what Ms. Agrarian-Curtains saw on her kitchen wall.

Artist’s rendering of what Ms. Agrarian-Curtains saw on her kitchen wall.

“The sky went a sort of yellowish color. I looked out my back window and saw a man in the alley who was sadly waving at me. It was more of a wave of “goodbye” than “hello.” Then, suddenly, one of the kitchen walls was illuminated by what appeared to be a series of letters coming from some ungodly, abominable, cursed film projector. They flickered horribly for ten seconds or so and then they flamed out. They just said, “THE END”.”

Ms. Agrarian-Curtains sobbed uncontrollably.

Detectives were called to the scene but could offer no explanation.

“We took all the people in the neighborhood into custody but the man in the alley was not located nor was the old, haunted projector,” noted Detective Gee-Temple, who was the first to respond to the scene. “It’s a crime with no solution,” added Gee-Temple, who began examining Ms. Agrarian-Curtains’ spice rack in search for clues.

“I just wish I had properly put away the bag of produce,” noted Ms. Agrarian-Curtains.

A press conference is expected later today.

Man Always Ready to Help with Community Projects

January 7, 2015 Leave a comment
By Grady Kitchens

By Grady Kitchens


Last week Mary Druthers, a local business owner, was confronted by a large safe that she needed to move into Fits & Wiggles, her Pet Health and Exercise Emporium on the corner of Elm Street and Hadderly Lane, in the mixed-use section of downtown Lankville. She knew just who to call.

Steve Niedermeyer was about to start loading a rental truck to move his family’s furniture, possessions, and farm implements to New River, when the Lankville State students he’d hired to help him failed to show up. Luckily, he had a backup plan.

And when a group of local artists gathered to retrofit an old tugboat as an “art barge” that will transport roving exhibits up and down Lankville Bay, there was one “mate” they were confident would be part of the crew.

Neil Marinovic is always ready to lend a hand.

The 32-year-old Lankville resident has made a habit of being a Good Samaritan-about-town. Whether it’s helping friends move, refurbishing an art space, or investigating an Incident, he’s “good to go,” as Marinovic asserted from his shared residence on Gulliver Avenue.


Neil Marinovic will help you move a really heavy safe.

“I still remember the day we met to work on the Mud Pits,” recalled local enthusiast Morley Hastings. “It was kinda rainy, cold, there was mud and dirt everywhere,” he said, adding that the work was “definitely not for the feint of heart.” But Marinovic was there bright and early wearing knee-high all-weather boots over his characteristic seersucker suit, and he stuck around until the last scoop of mud had been lovingly ladled into the final pit.

“The guy’s a machine,” said Hastings. “It’s a little unnerving, actually.”

The mere announcement of the imminent closure (and planned burning) of the Giant Tart cafeteria, as reported in the Lankville News, was enough to bring Marinovic out to the Great Eastern Grassy Suburban Area on a vigil. There he joined anxious residents in queuing for a “last meal” before the popular eatery is closed for good by owner Dennis O’Fashioned Candies.

“It’s just what you do,” said Marinovic from his cell phone as he braved winter weather in the “swampy knoll” that surrounds the Giant Tart. “If I’m part of this community, I want to be part of the community, doing community things,” he said, adding that it’s important to him to take advantage of all the wonders and face all the challenges Lankville has to offer.

“That’s what makes it, you know, a community,” he said.

Neil Marinovic wouldn’t have it any other way.

Cathedral Bells Haunt, Taunt Local Residents

December 24, 2014 Leave a comment
By Grady Kitchens

By Grady Kitchens


Have you ever woken up from a nap feeling like a tune was playing in your head that you can’t quite remember? Have you emerged from a peaceful session at the Sanduny Sauna Spa with a song in your heart that somehow eludes identification, even as you continue humming it off and on throughout the day, straining to guess what it’s called?

That’s the sensation experienced by many residents of Old Lankville who live in the shadows of the town cathedral on Pondicherry Square. The cathedral, an exact replica of the famous pilgrimage destination in Lanque-Ville-sur-Lac, Lankville’s sister city in a nearby foreign area, features a bell tower that tolls out a different tune at precise 23-minute intervals. Residents, many of whom have lived in Old Lankville for generations, set their schedules by it.

The bells of Lankville’s cathedral arriving from Lanque-Ville-sur-Lac in 1898.

The bells of Lankville’s cathedral arriving from Lanque-Ville-sur-Lac in 1898.

The unusual chiming interval hearkens back to the tradition of a “de profundis bell” that would ring every twenty-three minutes in Lanque-Ville-sur-Lac throughout the Middle Ages. “De profundis” is a foreign phrase that means “out of the depths of despair.” Upon hearing the bell, the poor denizens of Lanque-Ville-sur-Lac would stop what they were doing, kneel, and loudly curse their miserable fate to God or whoever else happened to be passing nearby, often while pummeling themselves in the kidneys.

To modern Lankville residents, the sound of the cathedral bells filling the air is as natural as the thought of the single-serve plastic utensil dispenser at Barlow Foods. But many have noticed a disturbing pattern in the tunes the bell tower rings out.

“The tune at 12:47pm… it’s almost like a song I know by Persons of Interest,” says Deejay Humphrey as he hums an upbeat number, tapping his saddlebag to keep time. Humphrey, longtime music stylist for Casa Montecristo (an elegant reception hall), finds that the cathedral bells often remind him of songs by obscure local bands from the 1980s. “Right about 3:17 every day, there’s a song I’d swear is by the Burburries,” he says. Another, a sort of postmodern number with a pentatonic scale that plays at 11:13am, reminds him of avant-garde trio Or or OR.

“It’s hauntingly familiar,” he says, a thoughtful expression wrinkling his brow. “Even the phrase ‘hauntingly familiar’ is… hauntingly familiar.”


The bells about to play a hauntingly familiar tune.

The bells about to play a hauntingly familiar tune.

Resident Genevieve Rumpus (no relation to reporter Ida Rumpus), meanwhile, finds herself humming tunes by country-rock balladeers the Hickies after hearing the bells on her way home from work. “It’s kind of annoying, really,” she says, especially since she has fashioned a playlist for her commute that includes contemporary light-jazz fare such as Will You Please Stop Talking and Hold Harmless.

Decorative Ham mogul Chris Vitiello has gone so far as to demand, at town council meetings, that the cathedral bells be silenced. He reports recently being “taunted” by a tune that called to mind a song by his own college band, the Muffed Punts.

“How is that fair?” he asks. “I just want to get on with my life and make the best Decorative Hams that money can buy,” yet the bells keep playing their not-quite-exact replicas of familiar songs. Vitiello also proposed shortening the cathedral tower by about twenty feet, as he feels the old church constantly thrusts itself into the sky with a haughty air.

“They should also be whipped mercilessly,” the executive added.

But Vitiello’s impassioned plea did not meet with favor at Old Lankville’s town council meeting.

“Look, it’s tradition,” observes historian Glenn Ogilvie from his office at the University of Southern Lankville. “We may not kneel in Pondicherry Square and scream obscenities like they used to in the old country,” he says – adding that one tune reminds him of an anthem by forgotten indie-rock band the Tumescents – “but the least we can do is put up with a bit of razzing from our cathedral bells a few dozen times a day.”

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