The Lankville Daily News

Brian Schropp on Cuisine

Dear gentle readers, I am sorry you haven’t heard from me in a few weeks. In relating what happened to me in the Deep Northern Suburban Hill Country, I came to the part where my kinfolk and the Cameron tribe discovered that my “old school chum” Nate Grossenbaum was really “The Great Addaric”. I tried off and on to write what happened next but the horror of it all was just too great. There is a reason President Poncherry doesn’t allow city folks into the hill country and I saw it all first hand. You really don’t think those cannibal films you see on the late night Lankville cable channels (usually scrambled because my folks won’t pay for it) really happen but I’m here to tell you that they do.

RIP Nate Grossbaum: What Were You Thinking?”

I suppose if there is a positive to be found in watching Nate being ripped opened while still alive and his organs being eaten by hill people was all the technology he left behind. For some reason the fool had all these generators up there so he could recharge all the stuff on his suit. I was able to use these to hook up the old microwaves my kinfolk had stolen from the city. Then, I showed them how to heat up all the pilfered “magical food”. It was quite a joy seeing the sparkle in their eyes as many in my tribe tasted their first bacon, egg and cheese breakfast sandwich or spicy beef burrito. This gave the Schropp tribe the confidence to overwhelm the Camerons who had them on the run for awhile. Unfortunately the horror started all over again when the now defeated tribe was massacred and not only were body parts ripped off and organs ripped out but these things were being microwaved and eaten warmed! My lessons had been used for evil!

It was quite astonishing to see the gentle look in the eyes of Franz, Strong Fist and Hamburger one second and then, seconds later, witness the savage fury of human flesh eating. I had all that my sweet and tender mind could take so I made a quick exit when they were in full “eating the Cameron tribe mode”. My biggest fear was my kinfolk coming after me once they realized I was gone and then deciding to eat me even though I was their “Great Bumpkin”. A little ways down the hill as I was fleeing (in the direction I thought was home) I ran into Scott my manager at the “Pizza-A-Round”. He was leading a “search party” which consisted of Oscar and Omar my “cleaning team”. The two didn’t seem that happy in finding me (I really “crack the whip” at work sometimes) but Scott seemed pretty pleased. I could see by the full arsenal he had on him that Scott could safely lead me out of the hill country.

Picture of my manager Scott relaxing at home.

I’m pretty sure I would have never made my way out of the confusing twists and turns of the place without Scott. He kept his guard up constantly– “I’ll shoot anything that crosses my path- ANYTHING!” Luckily nothing too much crossed our path until we got closer to the outskirts of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville. Then it was only a hobo or two.

When we made it back to the “Pizza-A-Round” things were in a state of chaos. It seems that without the strong leadership of Scott the place had fallen apart. The worst part was the dishes had piled up and the super squirrels were circling around the back door because they could the smell the crusted food. I didn’t even worry about changing out of the trash bag/deer skin hill outfit my folks made for me. I walked over to my “manager sink” and donned my yellow cleaning gloves. “Come on Oscar and Omar, to your sinks, CLEAN-CLEAN!!” The duo frowned and went about their tasks.

I think that my fellow co-workers were at first taken aback that I didn’t change out of my hill outfit and soon the

​Oscar and Omar- my “cleaning team” I know they really love me.

laughing and teasing began. I could hear the jokes and snickering behind my back but it didn’t matter– there were dishes to clean to “keep the ship afloat”. It started to affect the performance of the store as a whole, things started to get even more out of hand. Scott finally took out a gun and fired a few warning shots into the ceiling silencing everyone. “How dare you.” He scanned the whole room giving “the Scott look” to them all. “If you only had HALF the dedication that Bri has!! I swear I feel like shooting someone right now– just give me an excuse!!” They all calmed down then and got back to work. That’s what I mean when I talk about strong leadership!

Dr. Nickelbee, my therapist, who sits WAY too close to me.

When I got home to my “basement apartment” that night I reflected on how much Scott thought of me and it made me feel good. But the horrors of what I witnessed in the hill country wouldn’t leave my mind. After a few days I think my folks saw I had a lot on my mind and was not acting right, I wasn’t in the mood for any type of food (especially the breakfast pizza rolls my mom had started to make me recently) and not even attempting to watch scrambled porn on the Lankville cable late at night. Then the articles stopped, I couldn’t write a single word. Mom and Dad found me a therapist on the cheap so I could talk about it. His name is Dr. Nickelbee and he sits WAY to close to me on the couch. (Believe me readers you will be hearing more about him in future articles).

While stroking my knee tenderly he tells me I’m suffering from shock from the events that happened in the hill country and it’s turning into depression. He said the best medicine was to get back to writing those fantastic articles I do for the paper (then he squeezed my knee very, very hard). So here I am, “back in the game” so to speak. So please look forward to some excellent food articles in the coming weeks!! Until next time, keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas! Happy eating!!-Bri

Brian Schropp on Cuisine

So I found myself in a pretty rough spot, I was up in the rugged Hill Country of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville kidnapped by the Cameron tribe and taken to see somebody or something called “The Great Addaric”. The worst part, I was desperately hungry– being taken before my lunch break at the “Pizza-A-Round”. My thoughts turned to the “Pizza Eggwich” I was going to make on my break. This cutting edge idea I had been working on for awhile and was looking forward to tasting my test product. The constant pushing, poking, and prodding by the Cameron Hill People kept bringing me back to reality.

“Keep moving chubby,” their leader (whose name was “Shifty Eyes”) said. “We will be to “The Great Addaric soon!”

The beautiful but dangerous Hill Country of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville

Who was this Addaric jerk? And why had “Shifty Eyes” called me “The Great Bumpkin” earlier? (please see last article). These folks, much like their city namesakes, were not very friendly and were entirely unresponsive to my questioning. The steep rocky path they had me walking up was surrounded by heavy woods and a deep underbrush. It turned out to be an excellent ambush point for out of nowhere came another group of hill people. They advanced screaming their warrior cries and waving their weapons (some clearly had handmade weapons like spears and others had things collected from “city folk” like hubcaps). Having no idea who they were or what was going on I collapsed into my “defensive fetal position” which I learned in my old High School days.

This new group quickly drove off the Cameron tribe without much bloodshed. I was picked up and whisked away to the safety of the other side of the hill. The men put me down on my feet then they got down on one knee. They chanted “The Great Bumpkin” for a few minutes. Then the one who was clearly the leader of this group stood up and grabbed my shoulders, smiling.

“Great leader, cousin, dare I say friend, you have finally come to us!” He went on to say his name was “Franz” the leader of the Schropp Hill People!

I was overjoyed meeting my hill kinfolk and went around to shake each of their hands, grateful they had saved me. There was “Strong Fist”, “Dory”, “Hamburger”, “Merle” and “Sweet Berry” among many others. They got on their knees again and started to chant “The Great Bumpkin”.

“Come on guys, get up!” I was slightly embarrassed by all this but yet l did like the attention. “What is this Great Bumpkin thing about anyways?”

Franz grabbed my shoulders again “You!! Part man, part bumpkin. The one sent to the Schropp Hill People to save us!”

“Really? Did my folks contact you?” My mom and dad had tried over the years to pawn me off to various relations “for a break”.

“Our elders have spoken of you often. A special, sweet and tender person who was blessed with certain powers. Powers advanced to us hill people. Powers over magical food from your cities.”

“Hamburger” advanced and pulled a prepackaged breakfast sandwich out of his hill attire. “Great power, great power,” he mumbled.

“Not sure what is so powerful or magical about this but with the proper equipment I could make it for you.”
The group stepped back in astonishment “ohhhing” and “ahhhing”.

Schropp Hill People L to R- “Hamburger”, “Franz”, “Strong Fist”, “Sweet Berry”

I was then taken to meet the rest of my people were which was not far, they had set up a makeshift community of huts and tents by a river. After another warm greeting I was taken to a tent where I was finally able to
eat something. The women had prepared a rabbit stew (which was delightful) and then one brought some strips of beef jerky. “Magic food for you Great Bumpkin”. The jerky was a bit tough but topped off the stew nicely. I was then given new clothes to dress in which were a combination of deer skin and trash bags.

Franz took me on a tour of their mobile village– not only did they carry their tents and huts with them but they had a lot of older appliances (like microwave ovens and deep fryers) which they must have stolen from dumpsters on the outskirts of Deep Northern Suburban Lankville. I could see they wanted to use these things to cook “magical food” but of course it was beyond them. If only there was some sort of power source where we could hook all this up and teach them.

After the tour Franz and I sat down to talk. It seems that the Schropp and Cameron hill tribes were two of the most powerful clans around. For many generations they lived side by side, tensions would flare up every once in awhile but mostly they lived peacefully. It wasn’t until last year that this “Great Addaric” showed up and starting helping the Camerons. My people seemed very frightened of this character– so much so that they soon fled their lands and went on the run.

I started to ask Franz what they were so scared of but we were interrupted by a commotion from outside. The cries and yells of the women, children and most of the men from my tribe told me I was going to find out sooner than later what “The Great Addaric” was all about.

​”The Not So Great Addaric”

I heard a loud distorted voice coming from the edge of the camp. “RUN YOU IDIOTS-RUN AWAY FROM MY POWERS!!”
I had to convince not only Franz but also “Strong Fist” and “Hamburger” to follow me. Pushing pass my kinfolk I made my way outside and was utterly shocked by who I found.

“Nate?”

Nate Grossenbaum was a dude I knew in High School– very much a loner who was into role playing games and goth music. He was now dressed in total black wearing some strange device he had rigged up to distort his voice and create this neon lighting effect that came out of his hands. I was pretty sure most of his outfit was an old laser tag game from our youth.

It took a moment for him to recognize me, most likely because of my new hill outfit. But once he did the lighting soon stopped from his hands and in a very human voice he yelled “Shit!!”. Nate took off back into the woods almost as if the Old Deep Northern Suburban Leathbacks high school football team was after him again.

“Come on tribe after him!!” I knew we had momentum on our side and we needed to get to this fool and find out what his deal was.

Next week all will be revealed in my final installment from the hill country!! Until then, Happy Eating-Bri