Archive
Movement to Remember the Bumpkins? Schropp Ruins Local Man
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
A small movement is picking up steam in Lankville to remember the bumpkins taken off by the wind three weeks ago, sources are confirming.
“I think a small statue or an obelisk would be appropriate,” noted movement leader Lloyd Byas-Kirk. “Even a nicely-engraved plaque which could be affixed to a large stone at the site of their abduction.”
Authorities have not responded to phone calls.
SCHROPP RUINS LOCAL MAN?
Cuisine
As I reported last week, Kirby Lomax, owner of the Huntington Road Deli, decided to grab a piece of the fresh frozen breakfast sandwich craze and started carrying them in his deli. As I had to meet with the family lawyer (over a certain trash incident that I’m not allowed to write about) I had been unable to get over to the deli to see how Kirby was doing.
By Brian Schropp
So early this morning I took a walk down and planned on standing in the long line of eager morning commuters to try one. But to my shock I found Kirby sitting outside the deli on the curb. He was crying while two men in spiffy business suits were locking the door.
I sat down beside him on the curb “Say, Kirby, what’s going on?”
He looked over at me with tears streaming out of his eyes. “I went bankrupt Bri. It happened so fast, those men are from the bank.”
I was so stunned that I was not sure what to say. After sobbing a bit more he continued.
“Fresh frozen! What was I thinking!! Why didn’t I just serve them fresh to the customers in the morning?! People don’t have time to reheat sandwiches on their way to work. And all that expense I had to invest in fresh ingredients. It added up so quickly– that was the straw that broke the camel’s back!! I even looked up Fresh Frozen on the computer, I couldn’t find anything about it being a trend!! Now I’m out of business. Guess it’s back to the children’s linoleum trade for me”
Ruined man Kirby Lomax. Shortly after his meeting with Schropp, Lomax fell down some steps while carrying a box of shiny tinsel. No explanation has yet been offered.
He put his head down and cried like a little baby. I knew now wasn’t the time to tell him that some food trends are so hot, you won’t find them written about anywhere. I gave Kirby a hug. I felt bad for him, he was a good man (unlike a certain person I know who this paper wants to defend. I’m sorry, Hank Cameron is a JERK). But as I was walking back home I couldn’t help but wonder– what if I was able to make it down sooner- could I have helped?
Maybe it wasn’t the fresh frozen process but the breakfast sandwich itself. Maybe the “B-E-C-TB (bacon, egg, cheese, tender biscuit) equation was not correct. Something that seems simple but is one of the hardest things for a culinary expert to achieve.
Well, I wish Mr. Lomax the best in his future endeavors. Until next time keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas.
Happy Eating,
BRI
OPINION: Some Balloons Passed Really Close by My Face
By an Unfortunate Citizen
OPINION
I was sitting there. It was at a table in the basement. There was a plastic tablecloth. There was a bowl of chips but it was far away.
And then some balloons passed really close by my face.
I lurched backwards. I looked to my left and then to my right. Nothing. I moved back to the table.
I looked at the chips. I wanted some.
And then some balloons passed really close by my face.
I yelled out. There was a hallway that led upstairs. I heard a little noise there but then nothing. A light in the ceiling fixture buzzed and then flamed out. It grew darker.
And then some balloons passed really close by my face.
The door to the hallway suddenly closed. The chips were suddenly closer. There was that. I moved my eyes far to the left.
I am waiting.
The opinions of this man are not necessarily the opinions of the Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.
Electronic “Snappy” Mail: The Future of Correspondence
By Neil Cuppy
Last July, the Lankville Postsmasters General gave the signal that put into operation one of the most revolutionary systems of communications in the long history of the Posts Offices Department. At the signal, an ordinary letter was inserted into a machine in the Lankville capitol. Three hours later, another letter, absolutely identical to the one in the capitol, popped out of a hose that had been affixed to the side of a shed in the Lankville Grasslands.
Thousands of other letters– all official– followed at the rate of one every hour for each pair of sending and receiving machines. Since there were always four letter pairs operating in each direction, there followed a period of deep confusion and, ultimately, a vast clogging of the hose. This minor setback, however, was repaired by adding a second hose to the side of the shed. It was at this point that the long-awaited age of “Snappy Mail”– the Posts Offices Department’s name for this new service– had begun.
Simplified explanation.
Actually, the July operation was only a test. Although several governmental agencies and a sauce restaurant have transmitted via “Snappy Mail”, you can’t send letters– yet. And you probably won’t be able to for another three or four years. Why? Because a third hose will need to be added.
Nonetheless, if present plans work out, “Snappy Mail Shoppes” will be established in Lankville’s 71 largest cities. Such a system will mean same-day or next-day or the-day-after-that delivery anywhere throughout the country. The limiting factor, of course, will be the man-hours required to handle pickup and delivery and also the hoses. The actual transmission to the next city or even to the house next door will take only seconds.
So, let’s see how Snappy Mail will work.
Let’s say you live in the Woods and you want to send a letter to a relative, friend, or that friend’s wife. You’ll just write the letter on a special form (similar to the one used during the Depths War). Since the form will then be cut into threes, you will want to write only towards the top. Use heavy black lines.
The Future of Mail
Now, you’ll put the letter in a special “Snappy Mail Hamper”. These hampers will be color-coded by region– for example, if you live in The Woods, you will look for the pink one. You’ll also be able to take your letter to any one of several planned “Snappy Mail Posts Offices” (to date, the Posts Office promises as many as 200 locations!)
Next, the special “Snappy Mail Coder” will stamp your letter with the date and location. It is while being fed through the machines that the letter will be torn into threes and the lower two parts will be removed and recycled for holiday wrapping paper. Just think– the very letter that you wrote to your friend’s wife could very well end up being the paper that you wrap her secret gift in! Part of the resourceful planning of the Posts Offices Department!
Your letter will now be stacked in a special cartridge along with 400-500 others. The cartridge, like every other device in the process, is specially designed to provide secrecy. An operator will simply push a button and the Posts Offices “Cartridge Jenny” will send your letter flying across the country to its intended destination. Suction cups grasp each letter, shove it, pull on it and pound it flat so that it will slide easily and without lubricant of any kind into the automatic scanner.
As each letter slides into place, it trips a photoelectronic “Lumens Cell Circuit” which begins the scanning process. Your letter will be lightly baked and powdered and your original message will now appear in a black, soot-like substance on the paper. A facsimile beam will now sweep across your letter, very much like a beam might sweep across the screen of your TV set or across your body if you were to make an attempt to escape to the east.
And now your “Snappy Mail” letter will be delivered to your relative, friend or your friend’s wife. And only a few short hours after you sat composing the very same letter– sweating and feverish, cursing aloud, trying desperately not to include lewd comments, over your cramped bedroom desk!
The miracle of the Lankville “Snappy Mail” system– something we can all look forward to with anticipation.
The Casa Montecristo: An Elegant Reception Hall
A PAID ADVERTISEMENT
Casa Montecristo is an elegant reception hall. It has a fully-staffed dining room in which the waiters all wear waistcoats, cummerbunds, and patent leather shoes with little silver buckles on the sides. There are waitresses, too; they wear smart blouses with flaring sleeves and skirts that catch the eye with nice silk tassels along the hem.
As part of our elegant reception atmosphere, Casa Montecristo provides the utmost in chafing dishes for our buffet service. They are kept warm with a Bunsen flame that hovers between 247 and 253 degrees Fahrenheit so that our veal medallions are maintained at a juicy succulence, awaiting the tongs of eager diners at just the right level of fiery heat.
Casa Montecristo features the musical stylings of Deejay Humphrey. Deejay Humphrey has fashioned the soundscape for countless wedding receptions, large hat parties, and rotary club gatherings. He comes equipped with the latest in stereophonics, along with a selection of classic hits from yesterday and today that is second to none. We are proud to have offered the services of Deejay Humphrey at Casa Montecristo every year for the past fifteen years.
Stunning women get very happy and smiley when they attend an event at the Casa Montecristo.
If you don’t hold your event at Casa Montecristo, where are you going to go? Dimitri’s? Elysium Hall? Please. Over the years we have had occasion to hire some of their former employees, and the composite picture that emerges from what they have told us about those establishments is not pretty– rolls that you really need to press into to cut with your butter knife, napkins not folded into a proper isosceles triangle shape, chairs that look comfortable, but when you sit in them, there is the distinct smell of death and horror. You get the picture.
Casa Montecristo is an elegant reception hall. That’s really all you need to know, isn’t it? Put down whatever you’re doing, stop wondering where you’re going to hold your next party, quit fucking around, and book us today. LANKVILLE SNOWY LAKE AREA- 5271
EDITOR’S NOTE: Copy by David Hadbawnik but not the same David Hadbawnik that is a columnist for The Lankville Daily News.
News in Brief
By Kimball J. Cranney
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
BUS CRYING
Bus Crying: LANKVILLE’S SLEEPING GIANT???
A high incidence of bus crying has been reported this week.
“We have a number of adolescents, looking longingly out bus windows, sobbing,” noted Detective Gee-Temple, who responded to several concerned phone calls. “We are not taking it particularly seriously and no rubric has been issued. We believe it will pass quickly.”
“Time heals all things,” the intrepid detective added, after a long silence.
BABY, HORSE HAVE TEA!
Who says horses aren’t sophisticated?
It was teatime for this baby and this horse!
A baby and a horse had evening tea in the coastal town of Small Beaches yesterday afternoon. The horse– “Sergeant Hooves”, is reported to have behaved like a perfect gentleman!
The baby could not be identified. The tea set later vanished.
RANDY PENDLETON TO SPEAK HERE
Pendleton to speak.
Randy Pendleton will speak here, it was announced today.
“Randy will be speaking. It should be for about an hour. We are very excited,” said event co-planner Florence Littlejohn (about a 6/10, 7/10 in a dress).
Pendleton is expected to stay here for the evening and depart the following morning. His speech is expected to cover a wide range of topics.
An Interview with Weatherman Jack Quintz
By Gump Tibbs
Gump Tibbs recently had a chance to sit down with Lankville Daily News meteorologist Jack Quintz.
Lankville Daily News meteorologist Jack Quintz.
GT: You have that little area in the paper where you report on the weather?
JQ: Yeah, I’ve been doing it for years. It’s fine.
GT: Fascinating. Do you like the weather?
JQ: It’s fine. It’s alright.
GT: Do you feel like you have some special insight on the weather?
JQ: We have these radar maps. It requires slight interpretation. It’s alright.
GT: What about when weather is insane and spooky?
JQ: The weather can be unpredictable.
GT: Like when your cousin took your gun and killed all those people?
JQ: What?
GT: Alright. Great. I’ll look for your column next time.
The interview suddenly ended.
I Want to Tell You So Much More About My New Boyfriend
By Ashley Pfeiffers
I’ve just got so much more to tell you about my new boyfriend.
Yesterday, we walked down to the poster festival at the big tent. “I gotta’ get new some joint for my wall, Ash,” he said. He thought the stuff he had up there was getting a little childish but I thought it was really, really cute. Like the two kittens on top of a gigantic ball of yarn with the caption that says KEEP HANGING ON BECAUSE WE’RE KITTENS AND WE DON’T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO.
“Nah, it’s kid’s stuff,” he said, again. Then, he ripped it straight off the wall. I put my hands up to my face in horror but then he turned his ballcap backwards and gave me the biggest kiss. “Wish I could put you up there,” he said. I think he meant it as a compliment even though, at first, I thought it was just a tad creepy. He’s so cute though, I know he likes me.
We got some hot chocolates on the way. My new boyfriend told the lady to put some extra whipped cream on mine. I JUST ABOUT DIED. Then, we went into the poster tent. They had everything in there and my new boyfriend and I just spent hours looking, holding hands, talking about EVERYTHING. I got a really beautiful poster that had a lion and a dolphin on it and my new boyfriend got one that had three really nice painted skateboards that he liked and another that advertised some kind of beer.
On the way home, my new boyfriend asked if I wanted to stop in the cemetery. We walked along the rows of graves looking at the different old-time names. “These people, Ash, they, like, lived and died,” he said. I couldn’t believe he said that!
We just have so much in common.
The opinions of Ashley Pfeiffers are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.
Guy Really Going to Town on Smoothie
By Brock Belvedere
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
The guy that kicked the smoothie’s ass.
A local Lankville man is really going to town on a smoothie, sources are confirming.
“He’s wolfing it down like a motherfucker!” said impressed Smoothie Monarch employee Jarred Heaths of Inner Lankville Suburban Heights. “He went over in that corner by the window and you could tell that that was the end of that smoothie. It was a god damn rout, is what it was.”
“He pretty much said “checkmate” to that smoothie before it ever had a chance,” said a fellow customer who refused to be identified.
The man, who has yet to be identified himself, later thanked onlookers for their kind words in a short, previously-prepared speech.
“I’m glad that my overwhelming triumph brought a little bit of added sunshine to everyone’s morning,” he said, as he looked down at the empty smoothie glass, which lay overturned and broken on the table, a spent reminder of its former glory. “You vanquish, you look down over your opponent with respect and then you endure.”
The mysterious figure took a moment to shake hands and sign a few autographs before heading outside to his car.
Respected Grocer Cameron’s Yard Defiled; Bumpkins Ruled Out, Schropp Suspected
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
Respected Lankville grocer Hank Cameron woke this morning to find his yard defiled, sources are confirming.
The bumpkins were not involved says Cameron and Gee-Temple.
“They [the miscreants] overturned several trash cans and the yard was full of vermin,” noted Cameron, manager of the Foodville Deep Northern Suburban location and father of three. “Given the problem we’ve had with raccoons and that recent super-massive squirrel strain that have showed up, you can imagine the damage that was done.”
Cameron, who is a voting member of the Koala Bears and Walnuts Club and a pack leader in the Small Child Scouts, said he has no doubt as to who is responsible.
“It’s Brian Schropp. It’s definitely not the bumpkins like you asked me earlier, Lloyd. It’s Brian Schropp.”
It’s definitely not the bumpkins like you asked me earlier, Lloyd. It’s Brian Schropp.
Detective Gee-Temple took a series of prints from the overturned cans and believes an arrest will be imminent.
“Hank is a leading citizen of Lankville. We’ll get to the bottom of this. And no, the bumpkins were not involved in this, Lloyd. There is absolutely no credence to that theory, so let’s just get off the bumpkins and move on.”
SCHROPP ISSUES STATEMENT
Schropp: “I AM INNOCENT OF THESE EGREGIOUS CHARGES!” (paraphrased)
I am just as upset and outraged over the defiling of the yard of Mr. Hank Cameron, manger of Foodville and respected Lankville citizen. No one should have their trash thrown around like that (“a feast for racoons and massive squirrels” is what the neighborhood is calling it). It’s also upsetting that Mr. Cameron (and others) are accusing me of being the perpetrator. I understand that based on the phone conversation printed earlier in the week, folks are saying that I had “a motive”. But like I have stated before Mr. Cameron can be a bit of an a-hole when dealing with the public and has probably made quite a few enemies over the years.
Do I know if the BSU (Breakfast Sandwich Underground) were responsible? I have reached out to them and haven’t heard back. I would imagine if a public statement were issued, it would have been made by now (by contacting me, of course). Equally troubling is the fact that apparently I am no longer welcome in the Foodvile store and will have to wait in the car while my folks and siblings shop. In trying to place blame for this horrific event, let us look at another possibility.
Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t the BSU or an enemy from Mr. Cameron’s past. Maybe it was another citizen of Lankville-someone who has kept their feelings about breakfast sandwiches to themselves and in seeing the comments made by Mr . Cameron this week, finally decided to act.
Something to think about anyways.
WE ARE LANKVILLE
To conclude this article on a happier note, the Huntington Road Deli has decided to pick up my idea for “fresh frozen” breakfast sandwiches. Deli owner Kirby Lomax is excited to give the idea a chance since his other breakfast ideas have failed to catch the morning commuter crowd. “I guess people want an actual breakfast in a sandwich not canned meat shoved roughly into a doughnut,” he told me while slicing a honey baked ham for a customer yesterday afternoon. Finally someone who is getting the picture!!!
With a positive outcome to this situation and a few good future articles in the works, I am trying to overlook the fact that I was paired with the bumpkins yet again. Keeping my fingers crossed that the story has finally blown its course and I am free of them at last. As always keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas.
Happy eating,
BRI
Gluten and Sugar-Free Pumpkin Pie Teddy Bears in Five Easy Steps
By David Hadbawnik
David Hadbawnik is Lankville’s premier authority on making gluten and sugar-free 
pumpkin pie teddy bears.
There’s more than one way to make a pumpkin pie!
Why not try something different this year? Instead of the tired old “round” pumpkin pie, why not try making your pumpkin pies in the shape of cute, cuddly little teddy bears?
Now, I know it’s crazy difficult to be the one hosting and making a big feast for your family and that making pumpkin pies that look like little teddy bears might end up being LAST on the to do list. But trust me, it’s not as hard as it looks. In fact, it can be accomplished in five easy steps!
INGREDIENTS
- 1 15 oz can pumpkin
- 2 eggs
- 2/3 cup unsweetened soy milk (or unsweetened almond milk, grass milk, or cream – milk has more carbs, so, adjustments!)
- 1/3 cup organic cream
- 1 entire box of artificial organic all-natural sweetener
- 1 teaspoon dark molasses (optional)
- 2 teaspoon cinnamon
- 1 teaspoon crushed Buntz Mallows
- 1 scant teaspoon nutmeg (similar to the sprinkle of a light spring rain)
- 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
STEP ONE
Before beginning, you’ll need to acquire a pie crust mold that comes in the shape of a cuddly little teddy bear. Think ahead! Don’t go around at the last minute, rushing frantically into store and after store, becoming progressively more unhinged as you beg of an uncaring store clerk for that perfect cuddly teddy bear mold. Believe me, I’ve been through it– it’s no fun! Order your mold ahead and of time and you won’t have to worry. Lankville Speciality Animal Baking Molds has a lot of great options– check out their website at 123easypies!.com. This takes some of the guessing out of the initial part of your endeavor and will make it more fun.
Now that you have your mold, you’ll dump your ingredients into it, pre-heat your oven at 425 degrees, and bake for 15 minutes.
Don’t go around at the last minute, rushing frantically into store and after store, becoming progressively more unhinged as you beg of an uncaring store clerk for that perfect cuddly teddy bear mold.
STEP TWO
Our camera lens completely shattered when we attempted to photograph Hadbawnik’s cuddly bear pies, so we have included a stock photograph of pumpkins instead.
Reduce your oven temperature to 350 degrees and bake another 40 to 50 minutes. Gently pierce your bear’s chest with a knife and remove the pie when the knife comes clean (don’t worry- later, we’re going to cover up the piercings with a funny oversized candy bowtie!)
STEP THREE
Cool for two hours. You can begin on your bowtie and funny hobo hat now!
STEP FOUR
Decorate. Add the bowtie, hobo hat and frame your bear’s edges with a thin layer of whipped cream. This will give him depth and make him stand out even further.
STEP FIVE
Serve (and wait for the compliments!).
DHAD
THE LANKVILLE FAN-FICTION CLUB IS A MALEBOLGIAN SNAKEPIT
By Seamus Goldfarb
Sponsored by Inflamed by Stars and Blood: Lankville’s Premier Science Fiction and Horror Review
Intrigue rocks Lankville’s once esteemed fan-fiction community as its beloved President (the humble author of this article employing the rarely used 4th Person Totes Objective Perspective) Seamus Goldfarb was ousted in an emergency vote held during his double shift last night at the unicorn keychain kiosk at Twin Removed Pines Mall. What was his crime, gentle reader? It was merely pursuing his passion for the craft which had brought us all– the Lankville Fan-Fiction Writers Club– to the Pontiff’s Pizza on the corner of I-34 in the first place. A philistine amongst our number discovered within my extensive online body of work a large cache of BOT RANGERS, DECAMP! slash fiction and reported it to our ethics committee (Chad, Steve and Island Steve– j’accuse!) as some kind of “violation”. The real violation is allowing the inner life of the 1989 series Delta Squad: Harass characters to be left unexplored. While my own Fifty Shades of Harass was a genre exploding work it was not simply “Glorifed porn starring two guys in pantsuits rubbing all over each other” as one less than enlightened commenter on my blog put it. I will of course be appealing this decision at the next bi-monthly table read and Big Stuffed Pizza Brunch. My case is as strong as the narrative of my thirty seven chapter Richard and the Postman/Asteroid Belt Avengers cross-over but if the worst happens and rightful office is not restored I will soldier on. After all, there is another perfectly good Pontiff’s Pizza next to the shopping cart swamp by the old tire plant. Like a phoenix from the ashes, I will rise again as will a new and better Fan Fiction Club to service all of Lankville’s extended and meta canon needs. I’ll leave you with a fitting quote from my next opus which I will upload as soon I finish cleaning the keychain engraver at work tonight.
“Strike me down Dr. Richard and I shall only become more radical-er than you could ever imagine!” The Postman- “The Ultra Richard and the Postman Chronicles”
The opinions of Seamus Goldfarb are not necessarily those of the Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.
Mr. Daniel Madison (Northwestern Lankville suburban area) contributed to this article.
Flying Saucers Today! The Bud Cups Photo
By Graahaam Fosdick
The Lankville Daily News is lusciously delighted beyond measure to present articles from Graahaam Fosdick’s long-running periodical “Flying Saucers Today!”.
On April of this past year, I was walking through the woods in the hills near Bud Cups (Outer Regions). I was just hoping to enjoy some wildlife and, of course, I was sobbing hysterically and thought it best to be in the hills. Nevertheless, I took along my camera just for appearances’ sake. As I came down the east side of a little hillock, the woods broke away into a delightful clearing. “WHY THIS IS A FINE SPOT FOR A PICNIC,” I declared to no one (and a little too loudly). My eyes were drawn to the utility lines which snaked their way across this lovely spot and on down the opposite hillside.
It was about then that I noticed that the clearing had suddenly become shaded. I looked up.
Fosdick took this photograph while sobbing hysterically.
I got the shock of my life.
Suspended at what seemed a height of no more than five feet directly over me, with no visible means of support, was a huge, round metallic disc. It hung motionless in midair. Although I would not dare to hazard a guess as to how big the thing was, it looked mildly gigantic. Like the size of a swimming pool flotation device crafted into the shape of an amiable dragon or perhaps the undercarriage of a small automobile.
Very slowly, then, the disc began moving up and away from me, towards the North. The bottom seemed convex and the upper surface reached up to form a glowing orange dome. The object again hovered briefly over the hills. I vomited immediately and then began crying again. But just before it moved out of eyesight, I was able to snap the photograph which you see today.
Immediately, the thing took off. It made no sound and elicited no exhaust or smoke of any kind. It was simply gone in a brilliant flash beyond the horizon. My body was trembling violently and I vomited again as I looked at my watch. Although the sick covered the face of the watch (and ultimately made it unwearable), I was able to discern the time. It was precisely 3:58 P.M.
It was about four o’clock of the same day in another part of Bud Cups. A fat newsboy named Dronald Rutherford was, as usual, fatly peddling his bicycle down Lankville Rural Route 221- to make some deliveries in a distant part of town. He stopped before the Schantz residence, adjacent to the highway in the open countryside. Mrs. Schantz was puttering around senselessly in the yard beside the house. Mr. Schantz was up on the roof, removing an errant beach ball. It was, in fact, noticing Mr. Schantz struggling with the beach ball that caused the newsboy to look up. In the blue sky above, he saw what he later described as looking like the bottom of a flying saucer.
“Hey,” he said in his lardass way of speaking. “LOOK AT THAT!”
Puzzled, Mr. Schantz fell off the roof and died.
Puzzled, Mr. Schantz fell off the roof and died. Mrs. Schantz followed the newsboy’s corpulent finger as it rose towards the sky. They caught sight of the thing as it remained in the air. After a short while, it took off, to quote the plump whale of a newsboy, “faster than any jet, straight for the Outlands!”
After a short while, it took off, to quote the plump whale of a newsboy, “faster than any jet, straight for the Outlands!”
Later (I was still ignorant of this incident), my photographic print proved that what I’d witnessed from the hillside had not been an outlandish hallucination, but an outlandish fact.
I was, of course, most enthusiastic about my flying saucer and I immediately stopped sobbing. The first person with whom I shared my experience was an island friend, whom I shall call “Prance”, who came over to my apartment in East Lankville for dinner one evening. He was seated on the little green hassock, I on a chair. After some small talk, which I angrily kept to a minimum, we sat in complete, frightening silence for a few seconds while I collected my thoughts. How should I tell him about the saucer?
At length I blurted out: “Do you believe in flying saucers?”
“Of course,” replied my island cohort in his booming foreign voice, as though I’d asked him whether he believed in the Sun or the shocking rise of “Challenges” in the Lankville area. I was stunned. I had certainly never believed in flying saucers myself before this revelation and of all greasy islanders I have known, I could not have visualized my friend as a “saucer enthusiast.”
“Stay here,” I commanded, leaving the room in an excited rush. I returned with my hill picture, shoved it violently into his palm and sat down on the hassock next to him before realizing that the hassock was really too small to contain the bodies of two men. The hassock was, point of fact, really too small even for my friend but I liked offering it to people despite the fact that there was a perfectly comfortable sofa nearby. I liked the power, I admit it.
“You don’t seem at all surprised,” I said after I related my account up in the hills.
“I’m not,” he said loudly. “I’ve seen hundreds of these things.”
“Hundreds?” I was astonished.
“Yes,” he said. “They come in many colors. Plus, I’ve been shot with a ray gun. That’s why I have trouble driving.” He stared at me with a crazed look in his brown, normally empty island eyes.
We have not seen each other socially since.
Nevertheless, I present my story to you, dear reader, as pure unadulterated fact. It was, indeed, a flying saucer that I saw. It was a flying saucer that Dronald Rutherford and Mrs. Schantz saw. And even my former friend “Prance”– he too saw a flying saucer although I certainly don’t believe that rubbish about the ray gun.
A Decorative Oar Makes a Great Thanksgiving Centerpiece
By Floyd Tingley
A PAID ADVERTISEMENT
Now, I know what you’re thinking– the boating season’s over, all the nautical-themed outdoor decorations have been dusted off and stored inside for the long winter– there’s no call for a decorative oar right now. Well, I’m here to tell you that a decorative oar makes a great Thanksgiving centerpiece. Get your wife to lay a bed of hollies down and you’ve got yourself a real conversation starter. Get two and on the big day, you can drop that beautiful bird right down in between them. Creates symmetry, it’s pleasing to the eye. I’ve had many a repeat customer.
Right now, at Tingley Presentation Oars, we’re having a holiday sale. You pay full price (that’s $195 including customized gold-plated engraving) for your first oar and I’ll throw the second oar in for just $165. That’s a savings of $30. Times are tough these days. That $30 will come in handy.
You can write me: Tingley Little Presentation Oars, 55 Knobs, South Lankville, 2-111. Serious inquiries only (I don’t have time for no nonsense). And remember: a Tingley little presentation oar is the best little presentation oar.
Musings of a Decorative Ham Man
By Chris Vitiello
Chris Vitiello is the founder and CEO of Vitiello Decorative Hams, Inc.
My childhood backyard was carpeted in strips of Astroturf.
They said, “Jesus Christ, this is terrible Astroturf.” But my father demurred. “This Astroturf is fine,” he said. “The packaging says Quality on it. That’s the name of the company, in fact. “Quality Astroturf.”
I began crying. A swingset was promised.
I began crying. A swingset was promised.
“It’s breaking apart as we lay it,” they said. “It emits terrible fumes.”
“Naw, it’s fine,” said my father. He sat down at the picnic table with a can of beer.
I walked along the fence. They were having fun in the next yard. The father was sunning himself on a chaise-lounge and the children were playing in a plastic swimming pool. Everyone wore fashionable sunglasses.
“This Astroturf is made of dangerous materials,” they said. “Someone lit a match earlier and a strip of this Astroturf erupted in flames.”
“It’s fine. It’ll be fine,” my father said.
I began crying again.
That was the occasion of my 9th birthday.
Dick Oakes: Night Detective
Dick Oakes: Night Detective
AN ONGOING SERIES FOR FANS OF ROUSING, HARDBOILED YARNS
I was standing in a Pots Barn when the call came and boy was I glad of it. It had been an hour since I walked in the place, just intending to pick out a holiday wreath. The next thing I knew, some clerk was going on about boxwood cone trees, decorative rattan sleighs and lush magnolia and bright berries. I couldn’t make any of it out.
It was Bingaman. “Some sort of orgiastic youth affair in one of the warehouses. We got a kid dead and nobody is talking,” he said.
“Yeah, well, I’ll lean on ’em. Just let me see what the deal is with these succulent pinecone wreaths and then…”
“Dick, you better get down there right now. Forget about the wreath.”
It was in the old Lankville shipbuilding district. Grim, windowless warehouses– dark to the street. I finally found the soiree around back, towards the river. Must have been a hundred of ’em in there– a band was still onstage but there was total silence.
The kid was college-aged– lying in a pool of blood. He’d been dead about an hour and it was a slug that had caught him.
I looked up and noticed something funny then. I approached the stage.
“You guys were playing when this happened?”
HO Scale model of the murder site. Perfect for vintage train layouts. Contact Dick Oakes, Lankville Police West, 5-3822.
The frontman nodded. He couldn’t look at me though.
“How come none of your instruments are plugged in?”
He looked down in horror.
Bingaman came down and we leaned on a bunch of ’em. It was a lovesick, tortured boyfriend deal. Maybe the boyfriend had something on his ex, maybe he didn’t. Maybe he came there to reveal it and maybe somebody had shot him. And it all came back on a girl that had been onstage earlier. Everybody gave us the same address and description. It was candy.
“You wanna’ handle this, Oakes?” Bingaman asked. “Seems like your area of expertise.”
I nodded.
“I gotta’ get back to the station. Move some of those trays around.”
Him and those trays. I couldn’t figure on any of it.
It was a 5-floor walkup downtown. None of the buzzers were marked. I leaned on all of ’em. They said I would be able to tell by her voice.
It was number four. “I’ll come to the lobby,” she said. She had a voice alright. A voice that took your knees out. The lock buzzed.
The lobby was a poorly-lit, fetid place with an old vending machine that dispensed cartons of milk. Someone had ordered a pizza recently, eaten half of it and then crushed the rest into the carpet. Decorative ham circulars and public-service challenge warnings littered every corner.
I could hear her heels clicking on the stairs. It was a dangerous sound, I knew it. And then she stopped at the base like a girl making her entrance at a ball. And it was a grand one.
C’mon Oakes, a voice said but I elected to ignore it.
I don’t think I need to tell you that she was selling it everywhere.
I don’t think I need to tell you that she was selling it everywhere. Her eyes were large, dark and self-possessed and she had cascading, meticulously-coiffed hair that seemed to never quit. She was the kind of girl that could go from good to bad in a minute, and back to good again. A sort of quick-change artist. And right now, she was as good as a cooling pie off a windowsill in the Lankville countryside.
“Mr. Oakes,” she started. “If this is about that unfortunate incident down at the warehouse…” She stopped, waiting for me to pick it up.
“Why’d you bolt?” I had to burn a cigarette. A sign said no smoking but I figured, if they were allowing pizzas to be crushed into the carpet, they probably weren’t sticklers on a little ash.
“The victim, Talbot, I knew him…we were good friends. I couldn’t bear it…” I could see she was thinking about whether to turn on the waterworks.
“How’d you know him?”
“He had a very nice video camera and fashioned himself a bit of a director. We made movies. He liked to make movies about those creatures…you know…that are half-woman, half-fish.”
I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about but I played along. “You acted in some of these half woman, half-fish movies, then?” I was trying to figure out if there was a blue angle or not.
“It didn’t require much acting. I just laid on a rock by the old truck bridge. Talbot had rigged up a little fin for my legs.”
“Skip it. Let’s get to the murder. Who plugged him?”
“Jimmy Berries. That’s Talbot’s brother.”
Berries. The name rang a bell. And not because of the Pots Barn either. There had been a Talbot Berries that had run deliveries for a pizza joint. He had been shot by some bigwig Lankville business man. They had covered the whole thing up. I looked down at the pizza crushed into the carpet again. She saw me. And that’s when it broke down.
“It’s real big, Mr. Oakes. The connections in all this. Bigger than any of us.”
I knew it. And I knew then that she was innocent.
To be continued
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