Archive
An Interview with Royer’s Van Mechanic
By Dick Oakes, Jr.
The Lankville Daily News is pleased to present an exclusive interview with business magnate Ric Royer’s van mechanic, Frank Williamsons.
Frank Williamsons: “I don’t know how they’re still driving the damn thing”.
DO: Tell us about the condition of the van.
FW: It’s not good. The first time I checked the viscosity of the…
DO(interrupting): That’s boring. Move forward please.
FW: Anyways, I get instructions once every couple of days by phone. Mr. Royer’s voice is always distant– I think he takes great pains to stand really far away from the receiver.
DO: What were some of your recent instructions?
FW: Remove all the oil. Don’t put any new oil in. Then, a few days later, he wanted all the anti-freeze removed. Then, he wanted the tires partially deflated. I don’t know how the hell they’re still driving the damn thing.
DO: What else?
FW: He asked to have the speedometer removed and replaced with a picture of a cat.
DO: What about the lights?
FW: Oh, he had a bunch of extra colored lights put in all over the place. Senseless really. They don’t do nothing. I just don’t see how they’re still driving the damn thing.
Oakes could think of no further questions and a light breeze picked up and pleasantly kissed the faces of all involved.
My Collection of 1982 First Generation Richard and the Postman Peachback Action Figures is Second to No One
By John Chubbucks
My collection of 1982 Richard and the Postman mint-in-box action figures is second to no one.
First off, my set is first generation. Second, they’re peachbacks. Third, they’re complete at 48 figures. Some people will try to tell you that the set is complete at 47. I’ve had to make a lot of people look stupid over the years. That’s because they forget about figure 48– “The Pantry Vampire”, which was only available by mail. One guy, just to try to make up for his ignorance, said, “Well, your copy of “The Pantry Vampire” is not mint-in-box.” Yeah, he actually said that. Then, he said, “The peachback card is not flat with bright colors and has obviously lost some of its original sheen.” If it hadn’t been for the degenerative nerve disease in my hands, I would have hit the guy. I really would have. Later, when a noted expert in the field judged my copy at C10 (mint), I was proven the victor.
Let me tell you something else about my set. They’re in the original boxes, like I mentioned. NOT ONE of the boxes is punched. The punch-hole is intact, perfect and has its original sheen. This is the pinnacle of mintness. There’s another guy down in the Southern Pond Area, that has 45 unpunched cards. I happen to loathe this guy but that’s not the point here. The point is that 45 isn’t 48. It’s not perfect. He’ll never be something that he’s not. He knows that.
Mrs. Pinshears figure from the 1982 set. Mr. Chubbucks would not allow his copy to be photographed, so the example shown is from a lesser collection.
Right now, I have a limited edition Price Guide to the Richard and the Postman 1982 Peachbacks available. There’s all you’ll ever need to know in here– 32 pages, side-stapled quarto. A “variant” edition is available with an extra four pages of color photographs (not from my collection, mind you but from lesser collections). I do not allow my collection to be photographed.
You can pay by check by sending $39.99 ($49.99 for the “special edition”) 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’ll never need another resource.
Today in Small Motel Girl Wrestling
By Dick Oakes, Jr.
The Horn of Comfy Motel in Breezetown, Eastern Lankville was the sight of a spirited bout last Saturday as two “virgins” took to the carpet. Indeed, the veracity of this claim was doubted by many onlookers and a grumble issued forth from the crowd until promoter Sammy “The Cylinder” Cummings stepped up onto a folding chair and addressed the throng.
“Boys,” he said in his distinctive Northern Hole accent. “These girls are virgins. I have their papers.”
This seemed to pacify the crowd and after a short (and abominable) juggling display, the two virgins made their way into the room.
Sammy “The Cylinder” Cummings: Small Motel Girl Wrestling promoter.
“Boys, I’d like to introduce you to Xenith and Flora,” said Cummings, as the beauties positioned themselves on opposite sides of the room. “These girls are two battling virgins who are ready to fight to the death, ready to inflict any and all amount of pain in their quest to be champion. This, boys, is the match that the institution of small motel girl wrestling tried desperately to stop, the match of the year, the match of the century. Also, there are hot dogs available outside.”
At that, Xenith and Flora clinched and the crowd began their rhythmic chanting. The bills flowed freely from the pockets of all attendees as last minute bets were placed and, just as quickly, retracted.
“I knew I had a good chance to win,” Xenith, 19, commented later, once the match had been decided. “I’m much more lithe than Flora– she’s a pretty girl and all but I could tell right away that I was in better shape. I knew if I could get her over by the ottoman, then the match was over. That’s what I aimed for.”
Xenith and Flora, the two virgin small motel girl wrestling wrestlers.
And, indeed, that is exactly how the match of the century ended. After a series of clinches, throwdowns and general hair-pulling, Xenith was able to pin her luckless opponent against the ottoman. “I didn’t see it at all,” Flora, either 17 or 38, said later. “It flipped my legs in the air and I banged my head against that bureau. I was dazed after that.”
Xenith showed all the command of a seasoned motel wrestler in finishing her opponent off. “I pulled her body up a few times for the benefit of the boys and then took that one-piecer off in one movement. Then I got on top of her rear, worked the chin and ears, flipped her over and pounded on the torso a little. Got her weak in the stomach. Sammy called it after that.”
The crowd was, in general pleased. “Yeah, first time for me,” noted onlooker Eroc Hatts of Western Lankville. “I was attracted by the idea that they were virgins. It was light-hearted because of that.”
Hatts was later murdered.
Xenith is now preparing for her next match, set to take place at the Harvest House Inn in Southern Lankville on December 11. She will take on yet another virgin, a mysterious wrestler known only as “The Fabulous Lass” and the crowd is sure to be copious. “I’ve been studying The Lass on film,” noted Xenith, who works as a waitress during the day. “She’s got a couple of gigantic bumpers and I think I can use them against her. I think I can bring her down.”
Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen Begins Tonight
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
Dr. Rubby, who created Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen.
Nothing says the holidays in Lankville like Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen. The long-running pageant will return tonight in select locations across the country. Opening ceremonies are marked for 7PM.
“Everyone is glad when Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen returns,” said a local resident, who later developed severe mental problems and had to be placed in a cage. “You really know that Christmas is about here when Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen comes back!”
A series of patriotic pageants will kick-off the event, now in its 47th year. Dr. Rubby himself, now 78, will speak at the Lankville Pines event.
“It’s great to be able to bring my festival of illuminated snowmen back to Lankville for everyone to see,” noted Dr. Rubby, who began placing illuminated snowmen in fields in 1967. “As always, my festival of illuminated snowmen will be bigger, thicker and better this year. It’s always growing, always expanding, always widening its girth,” Dr. Rubby added.
Over 7 million people attend Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen annually and the event routinely nets over $150 billion.
One of the snowmen from Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen.
“We’re expecting a great crowd for Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen,” noted an event spokesman, who refused to be identified and was later forced to eat a large seat cushion at gunpoint. “Everyone in Lankville loves Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen and it’s an integral part of the holiday season.”
For more information on Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen, a series of hotlines have been established. Call 5-2671 (Eastern), 5-3311 (Western), 5-1618 (Desert).
WE ARE LANKVILLE
Cuisine by Brian Schropp
By Brian Schropp
HARD WORK AND HOLIDAY SAUCE
Cuisine
Yes, it’s that time of year again when the holiday eats are in full bloom. And nothing says holiday eats like holiday sauces– a staple of festive meals. Many Lankvillians will instantly think of cranberry, mint and hollandaise but my sauce of choice is nacho cheese. Sure, it’s an odd choice, you might say, but I find that the subtle nuances in a good nacho cheese can put a whole new spin on a good turkey or honey baked ham (sorry Mom, I did not ruin Thanksgiving– you just need to give these culinary ideas a chance).
My favorite nacho cheese comes from a gas station…
My favorite nacho cheese comes from a gas station– Mort’s Pumps and Food Depot off Interstate 42. Now, I will be the first to admit that you take a gamble getting any food there. “I don’t mean to make people sick,” owner Mort Freidberg once told me, his azure eyes filling with tears. “My staff and I honestly forget to check expiration dates.” Nevertheless, I find there is something about Mort’s nacho cheese– the flavor, the texture, the way it melts into the oft-stale chips and the frequently cold chili that is simply delicious and overly-satisfying. I actually took a cup home and added it as a glaze to the Thanksgiving turkey my Mom was preparing. And although I was a party of one on the results and even though Dad says I’m on my “second strike” relating to ruining holiday functions, I’m still going to try and make it a yearly tradition.
I decided to head down to Mort’s and speak with him about his exuberant nacho cheese sauce. I was hoping he would open up and share his recipe, perhaps reveal the creator of this stunning snack nectar. Was it the delicate touch of his wife LeAnna? Was Mort himself the gastronome? What sort of cheeses are used (I taste MANY, EVERY time). So off I went with my compass and atlas of Lankville in hand (I could not get a lift from any family members, post-Thanksgiving anger still appears to be lingering) to Interstate 42. I owe another big shout-out to my dear friend Trucker Joe who found me lost, confused and screaming near the Lankville Badlands of Route 71 and got me to my desired destination.
The station was bustling with activity upon my arrival. Gas pumps were flowing and customer stomachs were wobbly and turbulent. After talking down a patron who wanted to call the health department over a ham and cheese sandwich, Mort was able to give me a few minutes of his time.
Mort examines the interior of the nacho cheese dispenser.
“What can I do for you, Bri?”
“I’m here to talk about your nacho cheese, Mort. It’s some of the best I’ve ever had and believe me sir, I have been trying nacho cheese all over Lankville since I was a little kid. I’m hoping you will show me how this marvelous sauce is made.”
“Wait, I sell nachos here?” Mort responded.
“Yeah, I get them all the time when my Dad stops for gas.”
“At my place? You’re not talking about Ben’s Double Food Arena up the road? The place with the high seats?” Mort put his hand above his head for illustrative purposes.
I was confused. “No, it’s right over here,” I said. I walked him to a back corner of his store near the canned meat and pastry goods island.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Guess I do.” Mort walked over and slapped the side of the machine. “So, it works you say?”
I rolled my eyes– I could tell he was playing some sort of game.
He took a nearby bag of chips then (shaking his head at the expiration date) and placed it under the nozzle. There was a loud cranking sound and then that beautiful nacho cheese was luxuriously ejaculated.
“I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath. “Tell you the truth, Bri, I bought this thing at a flea market a few years back. I put it in this darkened corner with the intent of eventually looking it over. Then I just plain forgot about the sucker.” He fingered the nacho cheese atop his chips gingerly.
It was then that I knew his game. “It’s okay, Mort, I understand. You don’t want anyone to know your secret. Why would you? Some things are just too good to share.”
“No, I’m dead serious,” he responded. “I don’t think this thing has been touched since you started lurking around back here. I can’t believe there’s still cheese in it.” He gave me a fatherly look. “You probably oughta’ go to the hospital, Bri. How much of this have you had?”
“Sure, sure,” I chuckled and walked away. I knew he wasn’t going to let me into his inner cooking circle.
Walking back home I reflected on Mort Friedberg and his nacho cheese sauce and how lucky we are to have him in Lankville. Think about it– this man takes the time and loving care to make such a beautiful sauce only to shove it into a distant corner of a store for people like me to find. The searchers, the real foodies, the ones who will go the extra mile (or aisle) to find culinary masterpieces. Now that I let “the cat out of the bag” I’m sure many readers will be heading over to try this pleasure (just avoid Interstate 71 at all costs) but I am also sure Mr. Friedberg will step up his game. Until next time keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas.
HAPPY EATING,
BRI
OPINION: Yeah, I Think I Can Do It
By Pat Lowenstein
OPINIONS TO START YOUR DAY OFF RIGHT
It was a few months back. I was feeling really down. I had just lost a big competition in which large amounts of tubular snack foods had to be consumed quickly during a short period of time. I was sitting alone in the locker room, toweling off. I had a terrible fire in my belly and a great shadow had passed over the high windows. I had the blues, I’ll admit to it.
I was feeling really down. I had just lost a big competition in which large amounts of tubular snack foods had to be consumed quickly during a short period of time.
I looked down into my duffel. There was a brand new ceramic knife there (I collect them) and I thought about how easy it would be to slice open my neck and die against the lockers (yep, that’s how bad off I was, folks). No one would find me for days– not until the competitive tubular snack food circuit rolled around again. I unsheathed the knife. And that’s when Dennis Updatables walked by.
Dennis was the champ– everybody knew it. But he was a general good guy and he liked me. “You’ve got the elan,” he would often say. “Don’t throw it away. Follow your dreams.” The younger guys– we clung to him like children– gathering around on those long bus rides to hear him spin yarns of his decades on the circuit. He was in the twilight of his career, sure. But he was still topflight in my book.
“Feeling bad, Pat?” he asked. He slowly reached for the knife and took it from my sweaty hand. “No need for this though. How’s about I hold onto this tonight?” He threw the knife into his duffel and joined me on the bench.
“I’ve got something for you, kid.” He reached into his breast pocket. “Take care of the fire in your belly first. And then, you can take care of that fire in your mind.”
Dennis Updatables– aging champ.
It was a roll of antacids. The good stuff too– foreign brand, maybe from the Islands. He popped a couple off into my palm. “Sit back and close your eyes,” he advised. I took two down in one swallow.
Everything opened up then. I forgot totally about the knife and my idea of ripping open my throat and bleeding to death against a row of lockers.
He put his hand on my shoulder. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah, gee. I feel great.” He smiled.
He stood up. “Keep at it, kid. You’re going places.” He threw his duffel over his shoulder and disappeared down the darkened hallway with a friendly wave of his hand. I looked after him, amazed. “WOW,” I said aloud.
So, yeah, I think I can do it. And you can too, Lankville.
Royer’s Madcap Experiences: The Christmas Snow Village Chalet
By Ric Royer
I parked my car up on the grass and ran into town, shoving people out of the way. The store had a series of pinwheel displays out front (one ejaculated great bubbles into the air) and I knocked these into the street. I tore the door open with such force that the plate glass window shattered.
The clerk, a smallish thick-haired woman in a medieval-looking dress, came out from behind the counter.
“Oh my God! Look at that!” she exclaimed.
“Fuck it,” I said. “I got your missive. Where is the new Snow Village Fiber Optic Chalet?”
She seemed stunned. I could barely take it.
“SHOW ME RIGHT NOW YOU LOUSY LITTLE WHORE!”
She led me to an alcove cramped with snow village boxes. There was an illuminated display behind a great glass case.
“WHERE IS IT! HURRY!” I let out a baleful scream. She finally got to work.
It required quite an intolerable amount of maneuvering– boxes had to be lifted from beneath a table and moved aside (several, I crushed with my boot instantly). “It’s here…somewhere,” she said, hardly able to contain her tears. “THERE IS NO TIME!” I shouted, as she bent over her work. “I just…I don’t see it here.” She was crying now, blubbering even.
It was then that I came up with the idea of lighting the large pile of looked-over boxes on fire. “I HAVE NO TIME FOR THESE. NO TIME!” I could feel a strange whooshing in my head. Mania was creeping in.
And then she found it. “Oh, oh, it was buried so…so deep,” she said. And she emerged from beneath the display case with the Snow Village Fiber Optic Chalet, shimmering in its plastic wrapping. “OH, GOD! OH JESUS,” I yelled, feeling an almost sexual release. And then I screamed again as the terrible interior conflagration erupted behind me. And then she collapsed in my arms.
We remained that way until the building burned completely to the ground.
Madison Launches New Website: “The Cover of Lankville’s Internet”
By Fritz Tennis
AN ELECTRONICS CRANNY SPECIAL REPORT
Precocious techno guru Danny Madison is spilling his sack of inventions all over the Lankville community these days. Mere weeks after the release of his wildly successful “Game Cube”, the 12-year old wizard launched “scanit.com”, a website which describes itself as “the cover of Lankville’s internet.”
“Scanit.com will summarize the best pictures and stories of Lankville’s internet and place them in an easily-scannable format perfect for aimless, desultory leering,” noted Madison, who was interviewed while programming a series of robotic arms to lightly toss a bowl of chilled gelatin. “Imagine the internet as Lankville’s giant book, a book that we’re all creating. Scanit.com will be the cover of that book.” Madison paused for a moment as the wobbly gelatin suddenly shifted and began to lurk dangerously at the bowl’s edge. “It’s alright,” he then announced to the group of onlookers gathered behind him as the gelatin returned to its original position. “Everything is going to be alright.”
Madison: “I’m very pleased with the seven kitten posts…”
Critics, however, have noted that scanit.com has a rather lengthy list of posting rules and has already banned 7 million users as of 8AM this morning.
“I opened three different accounts just as a test,” noted Electronics Cranny contributor Neil Cuppy. “I was banned immediately for posting one of my personal electronics articles, was banned a second time for mentioning a particular zoo that was evidently unpopular with the creator and was banned a third time for opening a third account.”
“Just about everyone that has tried to post has been banned,” stated Electronics Cranny contributor Skip Vorhees. “If you log on right now, you’ll see that they only have seven posts. And they’re all just pictures of kittens.”
Madison attributed some of the early problems with scanit.com to “growing pains”.
“I’m very pleased with the seven kitten posts, however. I know that we’ll soon see more.”
Madison then returned to his experiments and the interview was ended prematurely.
Oral Histories of Some Former Lankville Pugilists
By Victors Weese (1971-1978, 28W-16L, 14KO)
I was working nights at the bowling alley up off of 258. 258 used to be a major roadway and then they built 64 and you had to take this long-ass ramp to get down onto 258 and nobody wanted to do it. So, just about every business they had on 258 went out and, for some reason, they just bulldozed everything and put up these houses for all these god damn Chunkers* that came around and took over everything.
Anyway, I worked nights and was in charge of the counter. Served all kinds of food in there– Christ, that menu was like a beautiful, majestic food cornucopia. All that food to waste though cause people wouldn’t come down onto 258 like I was verbally illustrating before.
So anyway, one night some guys come in and they were all in suits. Seemed like they might have been gangsters but I don’t mean gangsters like them god damn Chunkers think they are, I mean real honest to goodness tough guys. And one of them came up and he said, “I won’t lie to you kid, I’ve got a real hard-on for something like a tube shape and maybe with some cheese and meat sprinkled on it. Think you can make that?” And I give it all I got and I come up with something just what he described and he watched me the whole time and then he took a bite and then he took it into the bathroom and when he come out, he didn’t have it no more but I didn’t say nothing. So, he come back up to the counter and he said, “Kid, I watched you make that tube thing back then and I gotta’ say, I mean it was good and all that shit but I was watchin’ your hands. You got good hands. Fast. Ever think about taking up boxing?”
Well, the next thing I know, I got me a manager. Clarence Sharp.
Clarence started me out in the juniors but I progressed pretty fast. My first big fight was in ’71 and that was against Curt Vogel. Curt was little but built like a barrel– I mean, just strong as some of those big women they got working at five-and-dimes. He beat me up pretty good– knocked me out in the 7th. I just couldn’t stay up.
Well, I figured on Clarence maybe dropping me then but he said it was alright. “Everybody takes their lumps,” he said. He tried some kind of parable but it didn’t hold any water, couldn’t make it stick and he knew it. We spent the rest of the evening watching something fuzzy on TV.
Next up, it was Keith Belliard. I knocked him out in the first round– he tried to bend down and pick up a pencil that had fallen out of his ear and I just went to work on the back of his head and his neck. I don’t know whatever became of Keith after that. I think maybe they’d take him out occasionally. Some girls, you know, community service, that kind of shit.
Well, I had a decent career. Look, I don’t wanna’ take up too much of your time. Clarence, he died in ’98. I used to drive up to the country and see him. He had a house by a graveyard. We’d sit out on the patio and he’d look at the graveyard and try to say something profound but it never did hold any water. I’d bring him up one of those tube meat things and he’d thank me and take it in the bathroom. I never did see them after he came back out.
I got a little place now. Nothing much– four tables, little counter. [The interviewer made fun of Weese’s lousy establishment]. Yeah, I know it. It’s alright though.
*Derogatory term for people hailing from the Chunk Islands.
DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE THE IMPORTANCE OF TROPHIES
Dr. Grabkurt (cartoon drawing)
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Lankville
Royer Purchases Van
By Dick Oakes, Jr.
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
Incarcerated Lankville business magnate Ric Royer has purchased a van, sources are now reporting.
“It’s from 1999,” stated the executive, who was interviewed in the game room of the Foontz-Flonnaise Home of Abundant Senselessness. “It has seats. Some of the seats fold downward so that one might imagine a bed. There is a TV set. It’s glorious.”
Royer then paused to thrust forward a Lingus Net sack. He was repelled by a fellow inmate.
“He is a skilled opponent. The best I’ve faced thus far,” noted the executive.
Royer then produced several photos of his new acquisition.
Royer’s new van that has everyone talking.
“You’ll note that the TV set plays films. The blue and white colors of the exterior are bold but rational. There are little spaces where you can put your legs. There is a plastic box where diverse items can be deposited. They thought of everything, really.”
Royer deflected questions about the van’s reliability.
“I specifically instructed my handlers not to open the hood. I don’t want to know anything at all about the hood. And I don’t want anyone else to know.”
The executive suddenly wandered off and the interview was ended prematurely.
Meet the Reporters of the Lankville Daily News
By Captain Marles Cundiff, Editor
I grew up on a farm outside of Lankville. Dad grew corns [sic] and Mom used to fashion up these homemade balloons that she took up to the road and sold out of a donkey cart. The whole thing smacked of senselessness.
We didn’t have any news in our town but I listened to the crackly, faraway broadcasts of news from distant provinces. I got to where I could write little articles for The Farm Gazette and they would pay me in bananas. That smacked of senselessness too. Dad would say in his quiet but intense way, “Marles, we don’t need any more bananas. It’s getting to be where these bananas are a terrible, terrible burden. If you don’t stop bringing in all these bananas Marles, we’re just gonna’ go under– the whole family. We’re just gonna’ god damn lose everything if you don’t quit selling articles for bananas.”
So, after awhile, I took that as a hint to head for the city.
And the rest is history, I guess.
Captain Marles Cundiff has been a reporter and editor for The Lankville Daily News since 1972. He is also a captain in the Lankville Probity Auxiliary.
Feelings by Dr. Kevin Thurston
Dr. Kevin Thurston
Dr. Thurston is an expert on men’s feelings.
I often ask many of my clients to close their eyes and visualize a slowly-moving pinwheel. “What’s on the pinwheel?” I’ll ask. The answers are quite varied– if they are of a natural variety (grass, horses, foam), I will move in one direction. If they are of a man-made variety (cabinets, posters, foam), I will move in quite another.
“Tell me about the horses,” I’ll say. “Are they ordinary?” As the client is describing the horses, I’ll prepare a small group of items to be offered for sale later in the session. If the description of the horses veers quickly into violent imagery, I will generally try to mollify the client by offering the items immediately.
“Why is your office located in this damp basement?” a client once asked. “I’d feel better if I could actually sit in a comfortable chair and look out at the wilderness.” I put aside some fake books with hidden compartments that I was going to try to sell him and pressed my hands together in a pacific manner. “Tell me about that,” I said. His face grew very red. “I’m just saying, it’d be nice if there wasn’t these opaque glass blocks to stare at.” “They are to prevent the theft of collectibles,” I noted. Although that client never returned, he did purchase the books with the hidden compartments, $19.99, good deal.
One client recently expressed the feeling that his life had become a prison. “It’s a living hell,” he said, “an endless, deep hell.” At that moment, I was checking the functionality of a used bicycle pump. I decided that the pump could be a metaphor for his condition. “Look how easily the air blows through the shaft and out this little hole,” I noted. I fingered the contraption lightly. “Why don’t we try a Thurston Breathing Exercise from our handbook?” He stood up and kicked a chair over. “These breathing exercises are horseshit,” he exclaimed. “Tell me about that,” I asked. I placed the bicycle pump on a small column intended for display. We slowly worked through his issue.
Everything is a process. The Thurston Method is complex, many items need to be purchased, but in the end I have faith that it is successful.
Gone are the Thanksgiving Hams Says Local Worker: Weepy Stories of the Holiday
By Brock Belvedere
WEEPY STORIES OF THE HOLIDAY
Sherman Fenanigans is a thin, wiry man who looks every one of his 58 years. He sports unfashionable aviator glasses, repaired many times with tape and a faded grey uniform that has been brushed so often that the bare fibers are now visible. His paper hat is dented and creased.
Sherman has been in charge of cakes at the Barlow Foods Lankville Heights location for 32 years. “I don’t bake the cakes,” he is quick to clarify. “My authority kicks in once the cakes have been removed from the oven but before they have been placed in the cardboard containers.”
He has a family of eight to support. The holidays are a particularly difficult time. And they have been made more difficult since Barlow Foods, a multi-billion dollar corporation, did away with holiday bonuses.
“It’s been about five years since they did that,” said Fenanigans, who was interviewed while watching carefully over the display case of cakes as the brisk mid-morning crowd passed by. “We used to count on that.”
“Tell us about that?” we probed.
Fenanigans at work. He has just dropped a cake into some vegetables.
“Well, for the first 10 years, they gave us a Christmas turkey. Every year. Then, they said they couldn’t do it anymore, so they gave us Thanksgiving hams. That went on for about five years. Then, they said they couldn’t get the hams anymore but that they’d give us $10 and we could buy our own hams. That went on for another two, maybe three years. Then, they stopped giving us the $10.”
Fenanigans paused to let the weight of the sad tale sink in. It didn’t. I was genuinely flummoxed by his statement.
“What happened to the hams?” I asked.
“As I said, they stopped buying them for us.”
I still was vastly confused.
“Well, I mean, what happened to the hams they were supposed to buy for you?” I probed.
He looked at me. “What do you mean, what happened to ’em? They didn’t buy ’em.”
That’s when the picture started to become clear.
“Oh, I see. So, someone else bought them.”
“Well, yeah, I guess,” he said. “I have no idea.”
I wanted to understand further. “So, it freed up hams that just went back into the general pool of available public hams?”
I wanted to understand further. “So, it freed up hams that just went back into the general pool of available public hams?”
“Yeah, basically. And, so now we still have ham for Thanksgiving but it takes away money we could have spent on additional side dishes.”
He broke down then. He had to take a moment to collect himself. He handed his paper hat to me and asked me to mind the cake case. I did the best I could but I became so overwhelmed that I basically gave away all the cakes and made all kinds of additional wild promises. A manager had to be called.
Barlow Foods CEO John Barlow consented to a brief meeting. I explained Fenanigans’ predicament.
“The policies of giving away holiday meats were no longer viable,” he noted, calling attention to several spreadsheets with interior flip-up tables on a computer screen. “The resources were no longer there. It’s a different time now then when Mr. Renanigans [sic] was originally hired.”
But for many Barlow Foods employees, that means a skimpier holiday table.
“We’ve had to cut back on things like cranberry sauce, corn, chocolate loafs,” noted Fenanigans. “You just have to learn to let certain traditions die. But it’s difficult.”
Lankville Daily News Guide to Picking the Perfect Thanksgiving Day Outfit
By Ric Royer
HOLIDAY NEWS YOU CAN USE
Begin by understanding your Thanksgiving location beforehand. If you have never been there before, it will be important to case the house weeks in advance. Affect the persona of a gas and electric official, a salesman of tents, or one of those guys that solicits donations for pandas in order to have a better look. Pay close attention to doors and windows.
Avoid buying your outfit anywhere but at a large, suburban shopping mall. I generally skip the “poor” area of the mall and go straight for the luxury wing. Be sure to stop at the food court first though and loudly consume a meal rich with proteins. Be sure that at least one item you have ordered is a similar repeatable shape (you’ll see why). Complete your repast with a Cinnamon Buns. Order it “to go” and make sure the server gives you a wide basin (don’t them let tell you differently– THEY DO HAVE THEM). This way, you can rip the Cinnamon Buns apart as you walk along and let the errant pieces drop into the wide basin. Sometimes, it’s best to order two or three.
You may at first be tempted to simply purchase one of the many shirts that says “Thanksgiving” across its front– don’t be fooled. This is merely a ploy by certain retailers to sell more shirts. Ignore it. If you have the means, reach into the display case and knock over the mannequins. “I’M TEACHING YOU A LESSON,” you should say as you do this. You might save this act for last, however. Move onto the luxury retailer of your choice. Pick out a paisley blazer, red pants and some high socks that reach above the knee. Shove them onto the counter and turn your head away as though the last thing in the world you are interested in is buying these wretched rags (this often teaches the stores another lesson worth learning).
You will now want to leave the mall completely and head over to your nearest home improvement store– I recommend Home Dump. They have many locations, are severely understaffed, and easy to steal from. Pick out a bucket, a link of chain suitable to wear around the neck, a bundle of cedar wood shingles and several elongated lighters. You can hide a lot of these items in the bottom of the bucket– just throw your jacket on top! Often, they even forget to charge you for the bucket! Pay only for the shingles and the lighters.
Hopefully, by now, you will have a sense of where you be spending the big day. I want you to have a window selected– know that window. Does it push open in an inward manner (see photo)? Does it need to be thrown upward? Will it have to simply be busted through completely? Whatever the case, have your friend or lover drape a heavy canvas throw tarp directly beneath the window (so, you’ll need to go back to Home Dump and get one of those– I forgot before). Put on the chain and the red pants and keep the blazer handy in case it’s chilly.
And now, when you’re ready to greet your family, your friend’s family or your lover’s family, you come bursting through the window with one of the shingles in your hand (the shingle should be on fire). I often find it useful to have my face painted as well and to be crying but that’s your choice.
You won’t come up short with this method. Everyone will have a wonderful time.
Ric Royer is a prominent Lankville businessman. He currently lives in the Foontz-Flonnaise Home of Abundant Senselessness mental institution.
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