Archive
Canaries Ain’t No Damn Good

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By Fingers Rolly
Man on the Street
I’ll tell you this right fucking now– canaries ain’t no damn good as pets.
You buy one of these little shits and you gotta’ buy a cage and some seed and one of those bastard-ass water dishes. And then the sissy clerk in the sweater says, “They like to look at themselves in the mirror.” So you gotta’ buy a mother-of-piss mirror too.
And what does the canary do? Nothing. That’s what it does.
That’s unless I start screaming at that whore of a desert. It makes a little noise then.
The Lankville Daily News would like to apologize for the preceding article. Mr. Rolly was assigned an article on the rise of Challenges in the Lankville area.
An Interview with Shane Meyer’s Aunt Pam

Unflattering File Photo
By Brock Belvedere, Jr.
Senior Staff Writer
The Lankville Daily News had a chance to sit down with Shane Meyer’s only known relative, who asked to be identified as “Aunt Pam”. The meeting took place in a dim basement hallway that smelled vaguely of educational chemicals.
BB: Do you think your nephew really perished in that tire house explosion/fire?
AP: He was a strange child. He had an odd way of staring directly through someone.
BB: Were you surprised when he made a fortune in fried plantains?
AP: Yes. He had no interests outside of semi-professional man wrestling.
BB: It’s well-known in the hockey community that you were quite a dish at one time.
AP: I was compared often to different actresses that appeared in certain specific films.
BB: Tell me about your bosom, as in, your bosom in its prime.
AP: I remember the exact day that I realized it had fallen. We were at a country fair and I was standing by a gigantic, industrial popcorn frier. My late husband commented on the seriousness of the frier and someone mentioned the amount of kelvins. I looked down and it hit me then.
BB: Do you have anything else?
AP: I make yarn Christmas ornaments. I sell them.
The interview sort of just slowly collapsed then. Nothing else was said.
Entire Room of Stuffed Animals Found in Meyer’s Last Home

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By Bernie Keebler
Senior Staff Writer
Investigators today opened the last known official residence of missing fried plantain magnate Shane Meyer and discovered an entire room of stuffed animals according to sources following the story.
The home, a 5700-square foot mansion in Northern Lankville Heights, had been closed since last January. Meyer had been living in a gas station tire house of his own creation until a fire consumed the makeshift edifice in August of 2012.
“The house was entirely empty,” noted Detective Gee-Temple, who procured a search warrant of the property early this morning. “There was absolutely nothing to be seen– not even so much as a forgotten fork or spoon in the kitchen. And then we went upstairs.”
Gee-Temple claims that investigators were entirely unprepared for what they discovered in the second bedroom.
“The room was choked with stuffed animals. They were just everywhere– arranged in haphazard rows, littering the floors, hanging from the ceiling. Many had pink bows tied around them or wore frilly skirts. There was an easel with some paper on it and Meyer had written “STUFFED ANIMAL LODGE” in one of those really big crayons which we found later in the corner buried under some stuffed animals. It was a grotesque spectacle,” said the shaken detective.
Gee-Temple claimed that the search yielded no answers to the Meyer mystery.
“It rattled us all to our cores and we could not understand it anymore,” added the detective. “I hope I never, ever have to go back.”
Mystical Goblet Auctionned

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News of the Weird
By Graahaam Fosdick
A mystical goblet, which was discovered six months ago in the Teets Island Chain, has been auctionned sources are confirming.
The goblet, which is said to have divining properties, was sold to Lankville business magnate Eric Gelsinger. The price was $1,257,421.00 (Lankville).
“I think if you put it on the floor or in some dirt it supposedly can tell the future,” noted Gelsinger, who operates a series of all-nude clubs in the Lankville downtown area. “I haven’t tried it out yet. In fact, it’s still in the box. I haven’t been at all in the mood to use a boxcutter to slice the god damn thing open.”
The goblet, which is made of gold and bedecked with wondrous jewels, was discovered in a men’s room at the Southern Teets Island Bus Arrival Center by a local. It has not been photographed and the auction was believed to be private and by invitation only.
“I buy a lot of stuff like that. Adds a little class to my strip joints,” Gelsinger added.
Sources are confirming that Gelsinger outbid fellow Lankville business magnates “Inner Hammer” and Ric Royer.
“I’m disappointed,” noted Royer from his shuttered retail space/home at Twin Removed Pines Mall. “I would have enjoyed having something that could predict the future– perhaps predict the dishes that would be served on any given day at the food court. That would have been convenient for me.”
Royer began removing his shirt and sobbing and the interview had to be ended prematurely.
“Not too many people out there that have a mystical goblet,” Gelsinger noted. “I think I got one up on just about everybody in Lankville in that regard.”
Musings of a Decorative Ham Man

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By Chris Vitiello
You cannot stack decorative hams. They are not meant to occupy space. They must be laid professionally on proper surfaces. I have known men– these are crude, unschooled men– who will attempt to suspend decorative hams from ceilings using only the hemp or perhaps raw cable. Later, these men will represent grim portrayals of lives bound to the soil.
It has been said that if you run through the streets, saying you imitate a lunatic, you are in fact a lunatic. Thusly, if you hang a decorative ham, saying you imitate a decorative ham man, you are in fact nothing and should be whipped. This is an excellent example of a “play on words”.
There have been times when great sums are proffered. And a man will say, “Please put these decorative hams in the shape of a sphere and hang them over the swimming pool.” And I will say, “I will not” and I immediately gather up the hams and begin packing them in their crates. And the man will say, “But I have paid for these, I can have them presented in whatever fashion I wish” and I merely whisper a quiet, “No” and continue packing. And if the man persists, I will whip him and suspend him above his swimming pool.
You must not push me.
The Electronics Cranny: The Truth About Quartz Crystals
By Fritz Tennis
Electronics Expert
The type of micro-precision that you find in everyday clocks, door hinges and basketball hoops is entirely keyed to a tiny slab of quartz crystal held under specific temperatures in an extra-special oven. Although the quartz may soon be made obsolete by an even more precise discovery (the little movements of restrained cesium atoms), the crystal still remains the most important device in existence today.
The quartz crystal was known to the ancients and even during the Reign of Pirrapods but it appears that some time after the death of the great King, it was forgotten. It was not until 1837, when Keith Hernandez wandered into a cave in the Inner Depths and was able to hear strange sounds from above, that the power of the quartz crystal was rediscovered. Keith, of course, is now a Hero of Science!
How They Are Cut. Quartz crystals are cut from so-called baby stones by a high-speed carborundum jenny. Don Jars is one of Lankville’s best jenny operators. “You have to know what you’re doing,” he says, by word of advice. “You can’t just step up to the jenny and start cutting. That never works out. I’ve seen guys just walk up to the jenny holding a gigantic sloppy sandwich and think that they can just go ahead and eat the sandwich and operate the jenny with one hand. And still, I’ve seen other guys just walk up to the jenny with an ear of corn. I mean, how can you operate a jenny when you got no hands free?” We had no answer for Jars and the interview collapsed of its own accord.
Although most finished plates come from natural quartz prisms, modern techniques for growing baby stones in laboratories have been perfected to such a degree that the quartz itself may be said to be perfect. Synthetic crystals are often even far superior to natural ones. Zharenendolf Gonzales (foreign Islander) works in one such lab.
“I would concur with your assertion,” he noted, whilst monitoring the creation of a new synthetic quartz. “We can also make the synthetic quartz to have a pleasing color. Look– this one is green!”
Everyone was very pleased.
Characteristics. The most important single crystal parameter is what is known as “the temperature+mass+coefficient (see table one). You will immediately notice that the temperature coefficient of a certain crystal is given as 1-2-0-6 or 0-2-9-4; hopefully things are beginning to make sense now and you will begin to have an understanding of the megacycle of basic frequency. If you don’t, I wouldn’t really worry about it– it doesn’t really matter. The important thing is to assume that the temperature of your crystal should not exceed x 10=2250 cps= .00225 mc (about the same temperature as it would be if you cooked a bunch of fries in your oven).
Have another look at table one, specifically rows 3 and 4. Now look at the equation below:
X-cut: t = k/F = 112/4 = .0028″
Y-cut: t = k/F = 77/4 = .0019″
From this it is evident that the wider crystals will grow thicker. You may wish to make a note in your tablets.
Overtone Crystals. An overtone or harmonic crystal is one that has been ground or otherwise agitated by the manufacturer so that it vibrates in two or more parts rather than as a whole. Essentially, this process is very similar to the production of musical instruments where the body vibrates in parts showing nodes and loops along its length (imagine a tuba). If a crystal were to vibrate in two equal parts, you would get the same effect. Imagine a tuba once more and then look at figure one again.
Mounting. It’s important to have a nice holder for your crystal. The consensus at The Electronics Cranny is to utilize some of the recent plastics; you can also use wood if you live in the hills. The crystal should be allowed to vibrate gently but not excessively– excessive vibration may cause coefficient disintegration and ultimately place the operator in a position where he will have to clear the area. “I’ve seen it happen often with these guys that try to mount crystals while holding a big sloppy sandwich,” said Don Jars. “You can’t have that kind of monkey business!”
Now You’re Done! If you’ve made it this far, you clearly have a working knowledge of the quartz crystal. Now, experiment! Put the crystal in some paper and ball the paper up. Send some signals through a long tube. Try drinking some soda through the tube with the quartz still stuck inside. Enjoy!
This has been another session of “After Class” with Fritz Tennis.
Staple Comes Loose from Royer Paddle Ball Game

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By Bernie Keebler
Senior Staff Writer
A staple has come loose from a paddle ball game owned by mall-dwelling Lankville business magnate Ric Royer, according to sources. The executive is believed in repose.

Staples coming loose from paddle games can render them useless and cause extreme emotional distress for the owner, experts agree.
“Mr. Royer had been playing with the game for most of the morning,” said his personal assistant Orpan Gheymook. “By lunchtime, the string was clearly stressed, the staple was bent awkwardly and the endless jackhammer action of the ball slapping against the paddle had rendered the contraption near the breaking point. Mr. Royer was warned but he continued playing at a similar high level and all of the sudden, the staple came completely loose. We never did find the ball.”
Gheymook continued. “Mr. Royer let out a horrific scream and collapsed in a corner. For some reason, he removed his shirt as he went to the floor. He could not be consoled and ultimately we had to remove him to a comfort station. I have no further updates.”
Royer’s whereabouts are currently unknown.
Royer’s Madcap Experiences: The Other World Figures

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By Ric Royer
It was evening and I was alone in the unfinished room above my garage, eating an owl. I had a pictorial magazine depicting doors of all types open at various angles and the radio on low when I heard a soft knock. The sun had just gone down.
It was odd, indeed. The stairway to this mysterious room issued a series of sharp creaks and low moans and yet, I had heard nothing. The knock came again. “WHY?” I called out and then realized my mistake. But by then it was too late. The doorknob turned slowly and three shadowy other world figures entered the room.
There was nothing to them but pure shadow– only the barest outline of past humanity could be discerned. They seemed to be hooded– their arms hung limply at their sides. They stood like the front of a bowling pin formation– two behind the first.
Minutes passed. There being nothing I could do until they fired the opening salvo (whatever it be), I elected to finish off the owl. Then, I drank two two-liter bottles of soda in quick succession. After that, I was ready.
One of the figures in the back suddenly picked up an empty plastic container shaped like a barrel (it had once contained puffed cheese triangles). The barrel hung there in the shadows eerily. Then, it disappeared slowly– as though it were being sucked into a pit of quicksand. The plastic top did pop off and land on the ground– to which one of the figures distinctly said “shit” in an eldritch, ungodly voice but otherwise the passage was perfect.
“Why don’t you get out of here,” I said, electing on a gambit that seemed futile and yet, I could think of nothing else. I picked up a giant newspaper and swung it about in their direction. “Go on now, get out of here.” The trio moved slowly backward towards the door. It seemed to be working. I stepped it up a notch. “ASSES! OTHER WORLD ASSES. GET OUT OF HERE.” I threw a bucket towards them– it disappeared into the shadows. “Get out of my unfinished spare garage room– YOUR KIND ARE NOT WELCOME HERE.”
I had cornered them near the doorway. I continued to hurl objects towards them– another empty plastic barrel, an old decorative ham, a piano. Finally, it was too much for them. They retreated. I watched them move strangely across the lawn– you could see their path in shadow behind them. Finally, they seemed to move off into the night air. Then the path before me slowly dissipated.
I looked over and saw my East Island neighbor. The consensus throughout the area was that she had fine tits for an East Islander. I stared right at them. “To hell with it,” I thought.
“Everything alright?” she asked in her East Island way. “Yeah,” I said, continuing to stare at the fine, perfectly formed titties. “Everything looking real good to me, real good.” I allowed myself to drool a little.
It must not be part of her culture. She was putting dirt into clay pots.
It would happen. Another night.
Designer Decorative Ham Line “Christo” Walks Runway
By Lance Pepsid
Special Fashion Correspondent
Only days after announcing a series of special spring loafs, innovator Chris Vitiello unveiled his new designer decorative ham line “Christo” before an appreciative crowd at fashion week here in Lankville City.
The line of twelve different decorative hams were carted down the runway by models, clad in ham-inspired outfits designed by many leading lights of fashion including Kinnith Coles, Christians La-Crux, Dolce Porches, and Hermes Kenzo.
Vitiello, who sat in the front row sporting a specially-designed haute couture bedsheet with a large “whip pocket”, smiled mildly throughout the show.
“The important thing was getting the message out there,” the magnate and hockey executive said later. “But it was difficult to sit amongst this aggregation of little whores without wanting to whip everyone senseless and end this garish, profane exposition of visual prattle with one crack of the whip.”
Vitiello left quickly and issued no further statement.
“I thought “Christo” was just tres chic,” said noted designer and critic Cabbages Boy. “I can definitely see the hams becoming deluxe and underground and a common accessory. I saw the first ham and I thought– PURSE!” added Cabbages Boy in a homosexual manner.
Further reviews of “Christo” are expected in the fashion magazines later this month.
The Final Days of Shane Meyer: AN EXCLUSIVE
The Lankville Table-Sized Intelligencer of Things That Happen in Reality is pleased to present an exclusive glimpse at the diary of Lankville fried plantain magnate Shane Meyer– found intact amongst the rubble of his charred gas station tire house, which went up in flames in late August. Although Meyer’s body was never found, he is believed to have perished in the conflagration. WARNING: These passages may be offensive to certain readers.
8/11– Purchased some engine lead additive in a quart bottle and drank it inside the tire house. Threw up and then passed out.
8/12– Paid a hooker to blow me (inside the tire house). She had no teeth and it was not pleasurable. Later, read half of Theodore Deeker’s lesser early novel Buds of Cups, drank some antifreeze and orange juice and threw up and passed out. Woke up around 2AM and cleaned up the floor of the tire house.
8/13– Finished off the Deeker. Enjoyed it. Later, pitched it down a sewer. Purchased a copy of Jorkens’ 1872 arabesque Peeps, PEEPS! Found it tawdry and excessive. Part of the tire house fell over later in the afternoon when a drunk slammed his car into it. I challenged him to a fight with knives in the woods and won. Later, I fixed up some beer and paint thinner. Passed out.
8/14– Pushed the Jorkens into a church mailbox. Stood outside to listen to the bells summon the morning, then urinated where I stood. Purchased a new pair of cut-offs and a copy of Danius Zubrus’ new novel Trying on Sunglasses with Girls. It’s terrible– it’s no wonder that teenagers are such assholes. I threw it into a busy intersection. I went to bed with some furniture polish and box wine.
8/15– Did not wake up today.
8/16– Stalked around the main drag, looking for a novel and some cooz. The latter was unexciting. Later, found a copy of Beeb’s 1917 war classic The Men of the Hole. Finished it off in the tire house while drinking from an old bleach container I found in the garbage. Mixed up the rest of the paint thinner and a can of malt liquor. Passed out.
8/17– Someone took the bleach container and the Beeb novel and kicked over part of the western tire wall. Repaired it, wandered over and talked to the Hindu gas station clerk. He gave me a 6-pack of small donuts. I ate the donuts, then felt aggressive for some reason. “I ain’t no charity case, bindass,” I said. I threw the wrapper at him but, it being quite light, it drifted in the air and settled on the counter. I overturned the gum display and walked out. Found a copy of Kood’s 1982 thriller The Dragon and the Mall Entrance. Found it overrated. Went to bed with some alkalies and cognac. Passed out.
8/18– Did not wake up for two straight days.
8/20– Started a small, contained fire in the tire house to keep the fruit flies out. Got too hot around noon. Apologized to the Hindu, who accepted. Still, I find myself wanting to kick his face in. Finished the Kood and took it up to a roof where I pitched it into an alley. Someone came out of the shadows immediately and ran off with it. Later, stole a copy of The Pizza Encyclopedia (3 volumes) from Mario’s. It’s very dated but read through half of the first volume. Mixed up some beer, porch stain, and concrete sealer, threw up and passed out.
During the evening or early morning of 8/20, 8/21, the tire house exploded and caught on fire. Meyer has not been seen or heard from since. His club, the Sharks disbanded shortly thereafter.
Maps Now Available at Gas Stations

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By Bernie Keebler
The Lankville Action News: YES! Team
Senior Staff Writer
Maps are now available at gas stations sources are reporting.
“Yes, we’re giving out maps at the gas station,” stated Cuno Baerga, who owns the “Flying D” station in downtown Lankville. “There is a little green tin that we’ve nailed into a post and you can find them there. It’s true.”
According to Baerga, the maps depict roadways and places of interest in downtown Lankville. “All the malls are there, the little streets. They are very nice maps.”
Baerga was pressed to talk further about the maps but had little to say.
“They are just maps with some…” We interrupted Baerga and accused him of dishonesty and subterfuge. He was later arrested by Lankville police.
“We’ll definitely be putting him into a small hot room tonight,” noted Detective Gee-Temple who was the first to respond to the scene. “This is important information and Mr. Bakers [sic] failed to adequately apprise the public of the situation. He’ll probably get 20 years.”
Shortly before press time, Baerga was sentenced to 25 years.
“We are glad that justice has been dispensed. The maps will still be handed out. No question about that,” noted Gee-Temple.
Inflamed by Stars and Blood Film Review: The Bags of Earth
An Inflamed by Stars and Blood and Lankville Daily News Exclusive

By Caramel Jameson
Special ISB Correspondent
Astro Chase Studios have announced the 2014 release of Howard Cartridge’s new film The Bags of Earth. Cartridge is no stranger to science fiction and horror fans having made a series of genre-bending films in the 1970’s and 1980’s. “No question, Asteroid Avoiders II: Going Back was probably my biggest hit,” noted the man himself. “We sold a lot of asteroid avoider toys, comics, bedsheets and paper towels. But with Bags, I’m looking for something a little more profound and meaningful.” Indeed, Cartridges was gracious enough to give us a short interview while wrapping up shooting of Bags.
CJ: Tell us about Bags.
HC: It’s an environmental disaster film. It’s SCARY.
CJ: How so?
HC: It’s really…really SCARY.
CJ: What is the film about? What was shooting this film like?
HC: Really…really…really…SCARY!
CJ: What are the bags?
HC: They are SCARY!
CJ: What do they do? Do they attack people? Do they take over the political and social structure of the world?
HC: No. They are just SCARY! SCARY! Look at them! Look at them!
CJ: Thanks.
| Year | Film |
| 1975 | Starblasters |
| 1978 | Asteroid Avoiders |
| 1983 | Asteroid Avoiders II: Going Back |
| 1989 | Lingus Nets: Alive! |
| 1990 | 400 Days After the Space Invasion |
| 1997 | Delivery Boys |
A Brief Cartridges Filmography
Real Life Cases of the Lankville Police Department: The Meyer Case
The Lankville Cabbager is pleased to present this exclusive glimpse into the Shane Meyer case by the man who investigated it– Detective Gee Temple.

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By Detective Gee-Temple
They said there was a fire at the Theetz gas station so I joined the chief and marshal at the edge of the curb and we watched the conflagration while drinking from a mysterious thermos that periodically changed its color. The station itself was actually safe– indeed, it was a strange tire house towards the back of the lot that was engulfed in flames.
“What is that tire house?” I asked. I thought that perhaps it was a promotion to sell more tires.
“That’s where Shane Meyer was living,” said the marshal. He suddenly took in an enormous gulp of air.
I could not believe it. Here was a man worth $750 million (Lankville) and the famed owner of the Meyer Fried Plantain Concern and a professional hockey club. I could not understand it.
“Why does he live in a house of tires in back of a gas station?” I asked.
No one could answer me. Finally, the fire chief offered, “he has head goblins.”
The marshal nodded, took in another enormous gulp of air and said, “yep.”
Head goblins. For a second time in as many minutes, I was simply floored.
The fire died down. I could see now that a roof of mean plywood had been attached to the top of the structure and that balloons had been tied there as decoration. They had, of course, popped during the blaze. It was difficult to see inside but to me, the interior seemed empty. I had hope that Meyer had somehow escaped.
Later that morning, I interviewed the Island clerk. He admitted that some sort of monetary arrangement had been made for Meyer to live in the back lot but that it had periodically changed. He also showed me a small closet by the restrooms and there we found an enormous cache of chemicals of all sorts. After some consideration, we dismissed Meyer as a terror-being.
There was disagreement later on a body. The chief felt that he had found Meyer’s crispy remains in one part of the tire house but the marshal demurred. “It’s up to you to break the tie,” they said. “I leaned over and entered the strange edifice. The chief showed me a crude bed that had been made (out of tires) and a little shelf that had contained toiletries. The chief pointed to what seemed to be remains. “That’s him, right?” he asked. “See, isn’t that legs?” I could not tell. But I voted with the chief.
Now, after much thought in my study, I cannot say for certain.
Further notes will continue in later issues.
Royer’s Madcap Experiences: The Pledger of Allegiances

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By Ric Royer
Today, at the mental facility, a man approached me outside of the dining hall. He was small in stature with short-cropped hair that somehow befit his size and a generally staid, serious appearance– indeed, upon his initial approach, I was expecting a senseless row. Instead, after several uncomfortable moments of high scrutiny, the man suddenly dropped to his knees and said, “I pledge all allegiances to you, lord.” Concurrently, the tinny loudspeaker announced the general placement of cake and thus, frankly, I paid no attention to his proclamation.
Later, however, in the amusement room, the man repeated the covenant. As he knelt at my feet, I placed the flat surface of a paddle-ball game upon his crown for symbolic purposes and announced, “Do all see what Kevin has done?” The mass of lunatics stared fatuously and the ward later informed me that the man’s name was not Kevin at all but the scene was stirring nevertheless.
As a pledger of allegiances, thus, Kevin (for that is how I knew him) made it his purpose to prepare a flawless bedsheet and wool blanket for me each evening and to run a moistened towel over my toiletries and a squeegee across my vanity mirror. The tasks completed, Kevin would turn towards me and pronounce his only words of the day– “Lord, your forgery glass is cleansed”. (Kevin knew a mirror as a “forgery glass”). Oftentimes, I would find some tiny flaw in Kevin’s otherwise impeccable work and berate him over it for this was the crux of the pledger-lord relationship. Upon occasion, there were sexually-charged beatings in which I chased Kevin about the tiny cell– initially just grab-assing but then ultimately crushing him across the cheeks so that his head caromed to and fro in a most comical manner. He seemed to enjoy this tremendously and often squealed like a child.
It was not long, however, before Warden Jenness noticed our bond. He called me into his office– crowded with dead plants and mysterious species of cacti and delivered a forceful speech in a most efficacious manner. There being no response possible, I bowed slightly and left the room. For the first time, my short trip back to the cell was under the supervision of guards (one, a huge Negro whose strength was undoubtedly uncontested in these environs).
After that, I saw Kevin infrequently and he no longer met my lordly gaze. He seemed smaller now, more hunched. I could hear him talking to other lunatics at table. He spoke of getting a car and driving through the mountains, perhaps settling on boats. He was agitated, discontented– it was clear. There was money coming, he said, there was family assistance.
A storm hit. Two feet of snow were dumped about the grounds, cutting off all contact with the outside world. Although power remained on in the home, we could receive no reception of any sort– we had no idea what was happening. It was during this maelstrom that Kevin disappeared. He simply wandered off, barely clothed, into the sea of white.
I have had no pledgers since.
A History of Lankville
By Rufus Potts
Historian

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EARLY DAYS
The first peoples of Lankville were primitive cavemen who fashioned mean stone tools to fend off dragons. When this was accomplished, they thought they had it easy but BOY! were they wrong. Because then the dinosaurs came. Archaeological evidence has proven that early man was down to just 62 people after the dinosaurs appeared. Thankfully, they knew about intercourse. And then the Ice Age came along.
Most historians will not speculate as to how man survived the Ice Age. But my research has indicated that they built towers. Some of these towers can still be seen deep in the woods but you have to know where you’re going. I give tours occasionally. I have tremendous stamina.
“Lankville Town” appeared in the medieval ages. This was during the beginning of the Pirrapodian Dynasty. This was also about the time that they put wheels on carts and
The history suddenly ended.























































LETTER SACK