Archive
Musings of a Decorative Ham Man
By Chris Vitiello
File photo
It overlooked my village on a steep hill of rocks and crags, accessible via a brush-choked driveway and a series of dilapidated staircases. It had been the home of the Maldonado Brothers Seminary and for many years had provided great spiritual warmth for a few select pasty individuals. But it had long since closed, fallen into shocking disrepair, been the site of vigorous and yet jejune coitus and then left forgotten. I purchased the site three years ago.
There had been many mysterious fires– 246 by the realtor Gorcheck’s count. “It became known as Fire Point,” he noted, as he kicked an errant piece of mortar into the woods. I desired to whip him but remained calm. “You’ll note that the building is a shell and that it is about to fall over,” he said, looking away. “But the grounds are nice and you sure can’t beat the view of the valley.”
Gorcheck was right, on both counts. The once-magnificent four story seminary had been utterly destroyed– only a skeleton remained. A small outbuilding and various sheds sat surrounding, their doors open in a frank, almost sexual way. But one could plainly see all of the valley and the village below, my hometown.
I wrote the realtor a check. He was shocked. “There is some paperwork, we can’t just…” I pushed him into some leaves. “Mind yourself, Mr. Gorcheck. Mind yourself.” My hand twitched over the hidden whip but I abstained.
I contracted to have the seminary demolished and several senseless quonset huts constructed. “A fiery balloon crashed into the cliff,” the foreman told me over the phone after two weeks had passed. “But otherwise things are progressing as outlined.” There was something tentative about his lower class voice that made me both desire to whip him and to probe him further. “It sounds as if there is something else,” I queried. There was a long silence. A noise like a basketball being shoved into a closet could be heard in the background. Finally, he responded.
“We…well…many of the men believe that the site is damned. It may be something that you need to see for yourself.”
I resented being called away from my decorative ham business but I made the trip to the great hill.
To be continued.
Royer’s Madcap Experiences: The Grocery Depository
By Cor Scorpionis (formerly Ric Royer)
File photo
I put some gum in my mouth and violently pushed open the sliding glass doors. The Grocery Depository* lay before me. “Better get a clock out, cause the big man’s here” I said loudly, as I strode past the service desk. “Yep, mark that down on your time sheets.”
I got a cart and filled it with pancake mixes and hot dogs. “I don’t know what any of you are looking at,” I said to other customers, “but what I’m looking at is none other than a collection of people WHO DON’T KNOW HOW TO LIVE.” Then I turned over the cart. Mix went everywhere. I produced a woman’s wig from my coat and put it on.
The security guard came around. He had a chubby pink face.
“What are you trying to pull?” he said.
“You have a little office?,” I asked. I put more gum in my mouth. “Because I would advise you to go back there, back to your little office.” I stared straight through him, snapping the gum.
Everything broke down after that.
The next thing I remember is burying my head in a series of mollusk pillows. A fire had been built and the carpet was an aged yellow color. Laughing could be heard in the next room. I was offered some sweet wine out of a child’s beach pail.
“You should look at the fountain that Clarence built,” someone offered. I was led down a gravel driveway. A tiled fountain sat at its entrance. It was terrible, just a miserable idea, poorly-executed. A statue depicting a nude cherub had been mounted in the middle. A thin stream of water trickled out of its anus. “Clarence hooked it up improperly,” someone admitted. “Otherwise, it’s beautiful though.” I could hear crying behind me but I dared not turn around.
Then, I was sitting in Warden Jenness’ office. He had evidently been talking for some time and pointing to a document on the desk before me. I focused. Inmates are not permitted entrance into the kitchen. I looked up.
“How many pancake mixes were lost?” I asked.
“Twenty, maybe twenty-five.”
I began screaming, then sobbing quietly. I was led back to my cell.
*popular Lankville grocery chain
Expansion Stamps Contest Draws Record Low Crowd
By Clifford Griffey
Contemporary Junior Chronicler
File photo
A contest last night between the Small Pizzas and the expansion Hoover Island Stamps drew just 2 1/2 fans, a record-low attendance for a Pondicherry Association league game.
“It’s disappointing,” noted owner and GM Aaron Tucker, whose club has been mired in last place all season. “There was a lot going on on Hoover Island last night. The big naked festival, an historical reenactment of an old creamery, some TV shows. But still, we were hoping for a better turnout.”
The Stamps were initially drawing well but attendance has faded considerably in the past week.
“I was surprised,” said Hoover Island resident Dale Gumms, who was one of the fans in attendance last night. “It was so quiet, so empty. After the first period, all the [arena] staff just kind of left. They even started to dim the lights. No music was played. It was rather eerie.”
Gumms was later found murdered.
“We’ll have to look at options,” stated Tucker, who is also monarch of the island nation. “Perhaps issue some booklets. Or shovels,” the executive added before wandering away.
The Stamps are currently in last place in the Pondicherry Association.
Royer to Open Chain of Dollar Stores
By Bernie Keebler
Senior Staff Writer
File photo
Incarcerated Terrifying Bat GM Cor Scorpionis (formerly Ric Royer) announced today that he will open a chain of dollar stores in Lankville City.
The Dollar Bush will begin with 13 locations.
“We elected to go with The Dollar Bush because we want people to think of a tender, full, motherly bush that yields great fruits,” noted Cor Scorpinois, who was interviewed in the newly-erected “Fun Hall” at the Foontz-Flonnaise Home of Abundant Senselessness. “It’s a bush that you see from far away, from, say, across a busy highway. But even from that great distance, you can see the blossoming bush fruits. And you know immediately that you can pick them.”
“For a dollar,” added Cor Scorpionis, after a moment of reflection.
The executive, who also operates a chain of automats and is constructing a roller-skating rink, stated that his dollar stores will be distinctive.
“Upon occasion, we will covertly bring an extremely valuable item into select locations,” the eccentric entrepreneur stated as he hurled a small beanbag through a distant basketball hoop much to the delight of his fellow inmates. “It will be, say, a voucher for an in-ground swimming pool or a remaindered car. And anyone, any customer can pick it up and take it up to the counter and secure the right to pass through what we will call a period of “ULTRA MENACE”. If the customer prevails during the period of “ULTRA MENACE”, then he will be able to purchase the valuable item for just one dollar.”
Cor Scorpionis refused to go into further detail about the “ULTRA MENACE” but stated that it would be a challenging test of strength. “I feel confident that the average dollar store customer will not be able to withstand it but I could be surprised,” the mogul noted.
The Dollar Bush is slated to begin operation in early April.
We are Responsible for the Cavebeast-Driven Balloon Bombs
By Gino Peebles and Johnny “Nature” Trippetts
Special Evil Correspondents
File photo
We are responsible for the cavebeast-driven balloon bombs that have started to fall on selected targets in and around Lankville.
We’ve included a picture. This is about ten minutes after we launched one of these bad boys. What do you think of that, Lankville? You think you’re going to stop a burning balloon being driven by a half-blind cavebeast? These cavebeats– we breed ’em. We breed ’em to KILL. And to drive balloons.
We have no real demands. No motives. We just like launching these burning balloons and then taking pictures of ourselves laughing and laughing and laughing.
So, stick that up your ass Lankville.
An Interview with Chris Vitiello
By Lance Pepsid
Special Fashion Correspondent
File photo
Lance Pepsid recently had a chance to catch up with 24-Piece Men GM and Decorative Ham magnate Chris Vitiello. The interview was held in someone’s yard.
CV: I see they’ve sent you again, Mr. Pepsid. Baffling, really.
LP: Well, today I’m prepared with some hockey questions. Now…
Suddenly, a gigantic hot-air balloon appeared over the horizon. The balloon was bobbing furiously as though possessed by some sort of unearthly wind. It seemed to be heading straight for Mr. Pepsid and Mr. Vitiello.
LP: Let’s switch gears. What do you make of this approaching balloon?
CV: I have never seen anything like it. It is absolutely astonishing and, yet, profane. It turns the stomach the way it is being tossed about by the wind. I notice too that it appears unmanned.
LP: Do you think it will crash?
CV: Most certainly. It’s also on fire. It will explode momentarily.
As predicted, the balloon suddenly erupted in flames. Its descent accelerated.
LP: Now that the balloon is drawing closer, I believe I see someone or something in the basket.
CV: Yes. It is a loathsome, scaly creature, absolutely abominable. It’s a horror from the heavens.
LP: Do you think it will kill us?
CV: If we do not move from these delightfully comfortable plastic outdoor chairs, then yes, it will.
LP: So there is a swiftly-moving, burning balloon, being piloted by a nightmarish creation headed straight towards us.
CV: It draws even closer now. I noticed that the owner [of the house] has used a chemical on the grass to make it greener.
LP: There’s a little grill over there and some charcoal.
CV(nodding): Yes…I…
Pepsid and Vitiello suddenly fell asleep in their chairs and the interview was ended prematurely as the balloon continued its descent.
That Piece of Shit Never Did Give Me Back My Fucking Five Dollars that He Borrowed to Buy a Fish Dinner
By Fingers Rolly
Man on the Street
File photo
I don’t know what the fuck is going on but that piece of shit never did give me back my five dollars. He borrowed it to pay for that motherfucking fish dinner we had at the church near the overpass. You walk twenty feet and you’re in a fucking swamp. What kind of asshole builds a church by a swamp?
Afterwards, we went back to the shack and I screamed at that fucking brown desert. That piece of shit looked shocked by the whole thing, ended up leaving early. Fuck him.
But he does owe me that five dollars. He got the cod.
The Pondicherry Association News would like to apologize for the preceding article. Mr. Rolly was assigned an article on goalie masks.
The Ordeal of a Cosmonaut by “Nick”
Continuing falseness from an anus.
Gustav has died. He expired quietly in the night, after eating a light dinner of candy.
I cannot bury him. The cracked, dry earth yields to no pick or shovel. So, after saying some words and repeating some great astronaut quotations, I burn the body near the outlands. As I watch the great conflagration, I could not help but be slightly unnerved by thoughts of the Wandls. I stare constantly at the far-off hills but nothing appears.
I spend the next day hauling enormous quantities of candy back to the bunker. After that, I make few trips outside. I continue to read Gustav’s strange account.
The great pink pancakes are now coming into the yard. I can see their tracks in the morning. Occasionally, my lawn chair is overturned. Though I see no prints of man, I know that Blectum is with them.
In the evenings, I climb onto the roof and survey the area. I see nothing. On the cot inside, I read more.
The great pink pancakes were back last night. A message was left in the dust. It said, WANDLS. I know now their name. And I know that Blectum is with them.
I keep Gustav’s ray with me at all times. It is an older model and it no longer charges well. I have no idea if it works. I am growing ill.
The Wandls were back again last night. They have grown bolder. They removed an outer screen in the bathroom window, bore or punched a huge hole in the middle and then replaced it. And I saw Blectum’s tracks for the first time. I know there will be an attack.
Here, the text becomes confusing. A series of violent images, hastily-scrawled notes followed by vast accounts of the dead. Blectum appears only as a mysterious and sinister figure, faraway and yet present. The bunker is partially-destroyed and Gustav takes refuge in a series of candy sheds.
I have killed hundreds of Wandls. But they are merely replaced by hundreds of new Wandls. It is ungodly.
The text becomes muddled. It is unclear what happened but the attack suddenly ceased. There are pages of indecipherable writing. There is a large chart listing available candies. There is a shocking and sudden account of a decades-old murder.
And then it hits me. Gustav was mad.
That night, I pack some candy and head for the interior.
Plain Talk with BIG CHIPS
By BIG CHIPS
Special Correspondent
File photo
There’s a lot of confusion in the world today. You see it everywhere, especially in the media. That’s why we need a new voice, and that’s why I’m your BIG CHIPS.
And I’m piled high like Farby’s* with ideas, opinions, and things. I got layers of horsey sauce in my Red, Green, Black, and Blood brain. Love it or leave it.
For example, I see my girl Notches down at Lankville Station for Fine Fruits, Meets [sic] and Emporium. And Notches walks real standup like with a cane, like she’s got a Teets Eagle claw stuck in her spine, and she’s got a set of bosoms that can put coconuts to shame in terms of hardness.
And I say, Hey Notches! But all I’m thinking is that her back’s probably fucked up because she’s bowling balls for boobs.
And then the store PA goes all attention shoppers something or other is wrong, and a whole mess of police start marching through in single file lines.
That’s when Notches seems to just read my mind and say something about how funny it was to be seen at the Fruit and Meat Emporium.
Don’t know what the world is coming to.
*Popular Lankville roast beef establishment.
A. Lowinger contributed to this article.
Ramping it Up with BIG CHIPS
By BIG CHIPS
Special Correspondent
File photo
The colors of the Lankville flag are red, green and black. My heart pumps red, green and black blood, baby. Love it or leave it. This is BIG CHIPS.
You better believe that BIG CHIPS zig-zags through life. It’s an odyssey. A Lankville odyssey. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m out there searching for my Lankville. In a camper.
They tried to give BIG CHIPS an office job. With some decorative ham factory. But BIG CHIPS can’t stay in one place, man. He’s gotta’ keep moving. In a camper.
You’re gonna’ be hearing a lot more from BIG CHIPS.
Big Chips has many outstanding opinions.
Small Pizzas GM “Inner Hammer” Defeated in Boxing Debut
By Grady Kitchens
Senior Staff Writer
File photo
Small Pizzas GM “Inner Hammer” was defeated last night in his boxing debut in the Teets Island Chain.
The executive (0-1-0), who had been training for several days, was knocked out in the first round by challenger Denny Barbies (11-21-3) at the Cape Hats Arena before a modest crowd of 41 spectators.
The following is Mr. Kitchens’ official report:
I sat with Inner Hammer in the bowels of the great Cape Hats Arena, waiting for word. It was a triple bill and Inner Hammer was to fight second. His manager, a little Teets Islander named Mincher, was upset over his fighter’s dinner– fried chicken, donuts and fruit punch. “You can’t win a fight with that shit on your stomach,” he kept saying, as he moved sullenly about the ill-lit room, chomping a cigar that was later revealed to be fake. “Sorry, boss,” Inner Hammer kept replying softly, as his hands were taped.
Finally, an attendant opened the door. “You’re up,” he said and Inner Hammer put on his robe– a strange garment with vertical stripes representing all the colors of the rainbow. “Christ, that’s gaudy,” old Mincher said. He was generally displeased with everything. “Gee, boss, sorry, I thought it was nice,” Inner Hammer responded. He looked down at the floor as we made our way up the ramps and into the arena.
I could see Barbies up there. He was a strange specimen– about 6’3 but with no bulk. I figured Inner Hammer had about 50 pounds on him. His manager appeared singularly disinterested.
Mincher gave his man a few words of advice and then the fighters met in the center of the ring for preliminaries. “You guys don’t have any firearms?” the referee asked, queerly. The answer being a confused “no”, the fighters were sent back to their corners. Then the bell rang.
Inner Hammer stumbled out of his corner with a strange, exaggerated crab walk and a series of little hops. No one could figure out why. Barbies, clearly confused, backed away towards the ropes. Inner Hammer lunged towards him and was caught with a quick, almost defensive uppercut. The rookie fell backwards onto the canvas. He was out cold.
Barbies, who had not won since 1997, was immediately declared the victor. They took Inner Hammer back to his chalet. He has refused all interview requests.
Royer Changes Name to “Cor Scorpionis, Blood Probationer”
By Dick Oakes, Jr.
Senior Staff Writer
File photo
Terrifying Bat GM The Great President of Hell (formerly Ric Royer) has changed his name to “Cor Scorpionis, Blood Probationer” according to sources following the story.
“He asked us to set up a lectern, some lights and a buffet,” stated Warden Jenness of the Foontz-Flonnaise Home of Abundant Senselessness, where Cor Scorpionis is incarcerated. “But then he spent all morning in his room, putting together a puzzle so we have yet to receive an official statement.”
Cor Scorpionis, who was later interviewed privately, explained the change, his third this year.
“It is folly and a rape of truth to ignore the machinations,” stated the executive, who was clearly distracted by both the completed puzzle (a photographic depiction of a dog lounging on an oversized bean bag chair) and his dazzling layout of illuminated porcelain Christmas structures. “I say furthermore that this layout is of the Circle, and the Eye of Horus that sleepeth not, but is vigilant. The Circle is nearly all-perfect, nearly equal in every way. And if I was ever brought my box of soda, it would be complete.”
Cor Scorpionis then gave his attendant a fierce look of disapproval and the interview was ended prematurely.
Pondicherry Readers Speak Out
By W. O’Brien
Plumber
File photo
The Pondicherry Book is the first thing I’ve ever owned that’s not either a tool or related to plumbing. Or vitamins. I like to eat vitamins while I drill into the fetid drywall beneath the sink. There is no real purpose to this drilling; nevertheless, I get a real kick out of changing the bits and boring huge senseless holes into the wall and, upon occasion, the floor. Oftentimes, I don’t even properly use the drill. I just slam that bit in and crush it into the wall or the floor with brute, angry, violent force. I scream while I do this, which is often. Most of the time my drill isn’t even properly charged. I think it cuts straight through bone too.
Royer’s Madcap Experiences: My Time with Dwight
By The Great President of Hell (formerly Ric Royer)
File photo
We had been sitting in lawn chairs for some time before Dwight finally looked up.
“Let’s go over to Chunktown. You can get damn near anythin’ in Chunktown.”
I was afraid. You heard a lot of bad things about Chunktown in those days. Populated by foreign Chunk Islanders, all communication was transmitted through a series of grunts and hand signals. Misunderstandings were common. That’s when you could get yourself killed.
“Um hmm. You can damn near get anythin’ in Chunktown,” Dwight repeated. He spit on himself accidentally but refused to clear it. “Guns, drugs, babies, damn near anythin’. They even got a Gelsinger’s French Toast on in there now.”
The famous nudity hall. What went on in the back rooms was the stuff of legend.
We stole an ambulance and drove into Chunktown at a steady clip of about 100 MPH. Dwight put the light and siren on intermittently for reasons unclear. He chain-smoked. Nothing was said. We parked at a nearby hospital and began walking. It was a particularly dark night.
You knew when you had entered Chunktown. Suddenly, the sidewalks became cracked and broken and the storefronts lit but covered in cardboard. There were no social conventions (intercourse could be seen everywhere)– the back of old cars being a popular spot. “Look at this,” Dwight said, a gigantic smile appearing on his unshaven face. You could tell that Dwight felt this to be perfectly acceptable. Felt perhaps that this is how things should be. “Let’s find that Gelsinger’s. I got a wad here for’n that back room.”
Just then, someone appeared from a dark alley and shot Dwight in the stomach. No explanation was given. “Too bad we don’t have that ambulance,” I said senselessly to myself. I moved on. He’d be alright.
I found Gelsinger’s. Gelsinger himself was behind the counter. “Back room?” he asked.
“What goes on there?”
Gelsinger pointed to a hand-written board above the counter. “This is what we’re offering tonight. I’d recommend the ass and hand. Cheap but of good quality.” He suddenly threw a plate of scrambled eggs into a nearby blanket.
“I…I can’t do it.”
“Well, it’s for the best, really,” Gelsinger replied.
I high-tailed it out of there. And now I’m back at Dwight’s, waiting for his return.
Inner Hammer Releases “Big Board of Truth and Fairness”
By Pete Dagobah
Ancient Terrestrial Scribe
File illustration
Small Pizzas GM “Inner Hammer” released his “Big Board of Truth and Fairness” during a restrained event at a Teets Island Chain park in which sacks were shoved into large holes for reasons unclear.
“”The Big Board of Truth and Fairness” has been created to judge the actions of all mankind and also food,” noted the executive, whose sack suddenly erupted initiating a long period of hysteria and confusion. “The Board is a physical board, yes, a large board with an infinite number of lights but it is also an unseen board, a board of mystery. I serve mankind notice.”
“And also food,” “Inner Hammer” added before his sack suddenly erupted again.
“Only certain people will have access to the Board,” stated the GM, as a worker mended his ruptured sack. “You have to pass a multiple-choice exam and some other tests. I will be slowly releasing more information over time.”
“Inner Hammer” then stepped up to his hole only to have his sack burst yet again.
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
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LETTER SACK