Archive
Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.
Dick Oakes, Jr.
It had been a couple of weeks sleeping on a cot in the office of the towels by the pound joint when the crazy old broad that owned the place came in one morning.
“My husband died on that cot,” she said.
“Yeah? Somebody died just about near everywhere. What’s the difference?”
“I’ve got a room for you at the Murray. We’ll take it off your pay.”
I didn’t argue none.
I drove myself downtown in the ancient old car with the big rusted fins off the back. It was a five-story brick structure of another era but they had fashioned one of them angular neon signs out front and had fixed up a little cafe next to the office.
The owner was a friendly-looking older guy with a beard and a booming laugh who was already a little bit drunk.
“You Murray?”
“NO SIR! MY NAME IS FRANKLIN TIBBS! I BOUGHT THIS VERY HOTEL FROM THE MURRAY FAMILY. WHY, THEY ALL WENT IN FOR THE GOVERNMENT TRAINING PROGRAM! WHAT A DELIGHT!”
“You got a place on an end? Overlooking something? Maybe a little cross breeze?”
“WHY, ABSOLUTELY! WE HAVE A DELIGHTFUL ROOM FOR YOU MR. OATES. THE VERY TOP FLOOR!” He gave out a thunderous laugh that I couldn’t figure on none and took a sip from a gold flask that was shaped like a bowling pin.
Then he handed me a key on a plastic fob.
We took an elevator up. There was a sullen teenage kid dressed in a bellhop’s getup. He threw the gate and pushed one of the numbers.
“THIS IS GUMP! MY SON! GUMP, MEET MR. OATES. HE IS EMPLOYED AT THE TOWELS BY THE POUND CONCERN! WHY, MR. OATES, THE MURRAY BUYS ALL ITS TOWELS FROM YOUR DELIGHTFUL ESTABLISHMENT!!!”
The kid didn’t say anything and the elevator lurched and started going up slowly.
“You like them towels by the pound, huh, Tibbs?”
“OH YES! MY GOODNESS! THEY ARE AN ABSOLUTE DELIGHT, MR. OTTS!”
The elevator spilled out onto a depressing hallway decorated in dark greens and browns. There was a shit-colored carpet on the floor and strange paintings depicting women dressed in aprons and holding up kitchen appliances. There was no merit to any of it.
“WHY, HERE WE GO, MR. OTTS! ROOM 526! THIS IS, IF I MAY SAY SO, A DELIGHTFUL ROOM! WHY, JUST SEE FOR YOURSELF!!!”
The door swung wide revealing an ordinary bed, nightstand, brown wagon wheel rug and peeling green wallpaper.
Tibbs took a hefty swig from the flask.
“Mr. Otts,” he said in a low voice. “Have you ever spun a wheel of fortune?”
“What?”
“NEVER MIND, MR. OTTS!” Suddenly, Tibbs bent over at the waist and started laughing in his weird, booming way.
When he finally stopped, he stood up and wiped his eyes with a handkerchief.
“OH MY, MR. OAKES. OH MY! WHAT A DELIGHT!”
“What the hell’s so delightful, Tibbs?” I put down my battered paper shitcase of tattered clothes.
“LIFE, MR. OAKES. LIFE IS JUST…SUCH A DELIGHT. DON’T YOU THINK? WHY, LOOK AT THE BIRDS OUTSIDE, MR. OAKES!”
He pulled me over to a muslin-curtained window and threw up a yellowed roller shade. There was nothing but a cracked parking lot and a fire escape out there.
“WHY, IF YOU LOOK CAREFULLY, MR. OAKES, YOU WILL SEE THE BELTED KINGFISHER SO COMMON TO OUR REGION. LOOK!”
I thought about letting him know that there wasn’t anything out there but I ditched the idea.
“Yep, look at that Tibbs. Hell of a thing.”
“OH YESSSSSSSS! IT IS AN ABSOLUTE DELIGHT.” He emptied the flask in one final paroxysmal swill.
He pitched the flask into a dark corner. “I WILL FIGHT ANYBODY AT ANY TIME!”
“Alright, Tibbs. Alright. Let me get some rest, wouldja?”
“OF COURSE, MR. OATES. OF COURSE. I TRUST YOU FIND THE ROOM TO YOUR LIKING?”
“It’s a good damn palace, sure.”
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. OH, WHAT A DELIGHT! WHAT A DELIGHT!”
I made sure the door was double-locked after he left.
OPINION: TURN AROUND IN TONY PEPPERONY’S DRIVEWAY AND YOU MIGHT FIND YOURSELF WITH A TIRE UP YOUR ASS
By Tony Pepperony
TONY PEPPERONY LIVES ON A NICE, QUIET DEAD END STREET.
PEOPLE, SEE, SOMETIMES THEY DON’T PAY NO ATTENTION AND THEY DON’T REALIZE IT’S A DEAD END STREET. SO, THEY GOTTA’ TURN AROUND, SEE? SO, THEY PICK SOMEBODY’S DRIVEWAY TO TURN AROUND IN.
WELL, LET ME TELL YOU RIGHT NOW: YOU PICK TONY PEPPERONY’S DRIVEWAY TO TURN AROUND IN AND YOU MIGHT FIND YOURSELF WITH A TIRE UP YOUR ASS.
MADGE AND I SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THE PEBBLE LINER THAT RUNS UP EITHER SIDE OF THE DRIVEWAY TO THE GARAGE. CHRIST, TONY PEPPERONY HAS BEEN KNOWN TO BRING A GOD DAMN BIG DIGITAL LEVEL OUT TO MAKE SURE IT’S EVEN. HELL, TONY PEPPERONY’S EVEN BEEN KNOWN TO TAKE AN ARIEL SHOT FROM THE ROOF JUST SO’S HE CAN BE A HUNDRED PER CENT CERTAIN. AND IF YOU THINK IT’S EASY TO CLIMB UP ON THE ROOF AT MY AGE, WELL, ASSHOLE, THINK AGAIN. GO TO HELL.
NOW, LAST NIGHT, SOME GUY THAT WRITES FOR THIS VERY PAPER, TURNED AROUND IN MY DRIVEWAY. HE DISTURBED ALL THE PEBBLES. THERE WERE PEBBLES IN THE GRASS. NOW, TONY PEPPERONY CAN’T STAND TO SEE THAT. PEBBLES BELONG IN THE PEBBLE BED, IN THE PEBBLE LINER, NOT IN THE GOD DAMN GRASS.
NOW, THIS GUY THAT WRITES FOR THIS VERY PAPER, HE SAYS HE’S COMING OVER WITH HIS PEBBLE RAKE LATER ON. WHO EVER HEARD OF A PEBBLE RAKE? I THINK THIS GUY IS SHINING ME ON. HE THINKS HE’S GOT TONY PEPPERONY FIGURED OUT BUT HE AIN’T GOT TONY PEPPERONY FIGURED OUT. I GOT HIM FIGURED OUT. THAT’S THE NATURE OF THIS GOD DAMN EQUATION.
NEEDLESS TO SAY, TONY PEPPERONY FIXED HIS OWN PEBBLE BED.
SO, OF ALL OF YOU, I ASK– WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? TONY PEPPERONY?
I THINK NOT.
The opinions of Tony Pepperony are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.
OPINION: I’ve Been Kicked in the Face Before, I’ll Be Kicked in the Face Again
Yeah, this here’s a message for that little retard down at Climax Auto Parts on Route 71. Guess what, asshole? I’ve been kicked in the face before and I’ll sure as shit be kicked in the face again.
Let me tell you what went down. So, I’m just in there to pick up a couple of new cabin air filters for my ’09 Neptune Steed– let me tell you something right now–the interior of a Dick La Hoyt truck is so clean you could god damn eat off it. Anyway, I’m just minding my own business, checking out a sale they got going on hot shine tire spray, when all the sudden this little piece of fucking shit just reaches in front of me and grabs the EXACT spray bottle that I was eyeing up. I couldn’t believe my god damn eyes.
So, I’m like, “hey buddy, that there bottle is SPOKEN FOR.” He looks at me a second and then he’s like, “alright, I’ll grab another one.” And the sonuvabitch puts back my spray bottle and grabs the one next to it.
I just about lost it. “HEY MAN, HOW DO YOU KNOW ALL THESE BOTTLES AIN’T SPOKEN FOR? What in the hell gives you THE RIGHT?”
“Listen,” he says. “There’s plenty of tire spray for everyone.”
THAT DID IT.
“WE’RE TAKING THIS SHIT OUTSIDE,” I said. “DICK LA HOYT’S GONNA’ TEACH YOUR STUPID ASS A LESSON.”
“Listen- I’m not a fighter, man,” he says. “Why don’t we just pay for our stuff and go our separate ways?”
“LISTEN HERE, CHICKENSHIT,” I said. “IT EITHER GOES DOWN OUTSIDE OR IT GOES DOWN RIGHT HERE IN THE EXTERIOR CARE PRODUCTS AISLE.”
And then the next thing I know, the guy floors me with a roundhouse kick to the face.
When I woke up, I was on a stool and Bert, my buddy that runs the register, handed me a cup of water.
“WHERE’S THAT HORSE’S ASS?” I said.
“He’s gone. Dick, that guy had some moves. That kick came out of nowhere. You were out before you hit the floor.”
Maybe. But I just want that god damn half-pint to know it and know it good. Dick La Hoyt has been kicked in the face before and as sure as the sun is gonna’ set, he’ll be kicked in the face again.
The opinions of Dick La Hoyt are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.
National Gallery of Lankville Art to Exhibit Rare Painting
By Charles A. Pappas
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
A rare painting by Linda Ten Boom, Lankville’s best-known artist, will be exhibited for the first time in over twenty years, sources are confirming.
“The Candy Hamlet”, painted in 1959, has been shown only twice since it was acquired by a private collector in 1965.
“It’s an extraordinary vision,” noted head curator Chet Lemons. “It may be said to belong to Ten Boom’s “Pink Maudlin Period” but really it is its own singular creation.”
The Candy Hamlet, 1959.
“The Candy Hamlet” will be exhibited for one month only before returning to a private collection. Tickets are already sold out for the first three weeks.
“I remember when Mom painted “The Candy Hamlet,”, said Ten Boom’s oldest son Kent. “She had just completed a long period of dark, tortured religious work, much of it drawing on her obsessions with Eastern Lankville Plains iconography. And then, suddenly, this glittering, sugary candy village came out of nowhere. I remember my sister and I were transfixed.”
“It remains my favorite of Mom’s work,” Ten Boom added after a long silence.
Ten Boom (1919-1962) has permanent exhibitions at several Lankville galleries. “There is no question, she is a modernist master,” noted Lemons. “Our greatest 20th century painter.”
Art lovers may contact the National Gallery of Lankville for more information (after 10 pm). Limited tickets for the final week of the exhibition are still available.
Photo of Schropp in Tux Fetches Big Price at Auction
By Bobby Pinewood
A rare photo of Lankville Daily News contributor Brian Schropp wearing a tuxedo fetched a high price at an auction held last night in the Central Lankville Showy Suburban Area, sources are confirming.
The $90,000 photograph.
A noted collector is believed to have paid $90,000 for the image.
“It’s the only known photo of Schropp wearing a tuxedo. And he looks really miserable. Everyone just loved it,” said auctioneer Brad Arrangements.
An event photographer snapped the famous image at a 1995 wedding.
“I remember being somewhat displeased with the culinary offerings,” Schropp noted in an interview held outside the Pizza A-Round late last night. “It is falsely assumed that pizza does not belong at a wedding. My entire life’s work has been about contesting this stilted worldview.”
Schropp paused to watch some trash suddenly blow in from the east.
“I am lusciously delighted though that somebody would pay that much for my picture. I have a number of other pictures that people might like. There are a lot of shots of my Dad and I sitting around various birthday cakes. Perhaps they would be of interest?”
After a pause to watch more trash blow in from the east, Schropp was told they would not be of interest.
“Well, it’s still a delight,” the food critic averred.
OPINION: I’m Jolly Roger, and I’m Jolly Well Going to Rape and Pillage Along the Coast of Lankville this Spring
Did you ever notice that no one ever uses the word “pillage” without appending said word to its cousin, “rape”? The Oxford English Dictionary defines “pillage” as “The action or an act of plundering, sacking, or looting a place, esp. in war; depredation, robbery. In early use also: extortion; unjust taxation or exaction (obs.).” “Rape,” meanwhile, can mean “The act of taking something by force; esp. the seizure of property by violent means; robbery, plundering. Also as a count noun: an instance of this, a robbery, a raid.” More commonly, in our modern usage, of course, it means “the act or crime, committed by a man, of forcing a woman to have sexual intercourse with him against her will, esp. by means of threats or violence. In later use more generally: the act of forced, non-consenting, or illegal sexual intercourse with another person; sexual violation or assault.”
Words matter. Their definitions matter, too.
I’m a married man myself. I don’t care for nonconsensual sexual intercourse; most of the year I live quietly with my wife and children, along with our two dogs, in a secluded cove in the Southern Exotic Islands. Occasionally I take the boys out and we throw the odd stone at a Caramel Dragon. That’s about the most exciting, and, from an ethical standpoint, questionable thing that we ever get up to at home.
But I’m a pirate. So when spring comes I don’t stand on ceremony, or engage in sophistry or euphemism. No pirate has ever gotten anywhere by shouting, as he jumps from the poop deck to the gangway and from the gangway to the gangplank, boarding his victims’ ship, “Avast ye! I’m here to extort you by unjust taxation!” So I rape. And I pillage. In that order.
You see, when I board that ship and set sail over the Lankville Straits to the Partial Icy Regions, and I catch sight of you through the “spyglass,” to me you are not a fellow citizen or sailing enthusiast enjoying the fine spring weather we enjoy in these parts, taking your ease on a boat or at the beach; you are a “landlubber,” a “scalawag,” a “picaroon”; depending on age and gender, you may also be a “strumpet” or a “wench.”
And you had better believe I will treat you as such.
Indeed, I’ll not be “hornswaggled” out of what’s rightfully mine. So you can expect lots of raping, and lots of pillaging. When that’s done, you can expect to “dance the hempen jig” and sleep in “Davy Jones’ locker.” That’s just the way it is. I didn’t invent these terms, and I didn’t make up the rules. When you’re at home, you don’t “pillage” the icebox (I hope!); you open it, select what you want, your cheese and bread and beverage, and then you close it again. I do, too.
But in spring, when the days get longer and my sails grow full with a nice warm breeze, well, then it’s a different story altogether: I’m jolly well going to rape and pillage. I’ll do it cheerfully, indiscriminately, and not without (I hope!) some kindness and humility. And if there’s time, I might even get in some plundering, too.
I Want to Tell You SO MUCH About How My New Boyfriend Tried to Take Me on a Hot Air Balloon Ride
By Ashley Pfeiffers
Oh my God, I just have to tell you about how my new boyfriend tried to take me on a hot air balloon ride!
So, I was just sitting there in sixth period Media and Communications, drawing some unicorns in my notebook margins, listening to Mr. Etchebarren drone on about social media when all of the sudden a big shadow passed over the windows. Everybody looked over.
The shadow went away. Mr. Etchebarren continued.
And then, all of the sudden, the shadow came back! And then a big giant basket slammed against the window! There was some cursing and the basket blew over weirdly into one of the classroom trailers! I WAS SO SCARED!
“It’s a hot air balloon,” somebody said. Everybody got up and Mr. Etchebarren dropped his book and told everybody to get into our desks (for some reason, he thinks we can get into our desks). “People!” he yelled. “This is a terrorist attack!”
Everybody started screaming and then the balloon suddenly took off again and disappeared over the woods. We were all SCARED OUT OF OUR MINDS!
They let us out early.
So, I started walking home with some of my girlfriends. I was just telling them about my new boyfriend and how romantic he is and how he took me to see a pony and then we started down a small hill and into a clearing and there was the hot air balloon again! And YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHO WAS INSIDE THE BASKET!!!
It was my new boyfriend. I ALMOST DIED.
“The police are coming,” McKinley said. But I didn’t hear her. My ears were clogged with LOVE.
“Sorry about that, Ash,” my new boyfriend yelled. I ran over and gave him a HUGE HUG.
“My uncle loaned me this– I can’t quite control it yet. I didn’t mean to slam into your classroom.”
“You can slam into my classroom windows with a hot air balloon ANY TIME,” I said. We looked into each other’s eyes and then we kissed passionately.
“Get in,” he said. “Ash, you like, can’t even imagine what happens as the dew covered meadows shrink quietly away and the vast panorama of the earth becomes a breathtaking view of beauty and life.” I WAS SHAKING. I saw that he was reading off a card but it didn’t matter. WE ARE SO IN LOVE!
But then the police came.
Still, it was SO SPECIAL.
I LOVE HIM SO!
STUDY: Bumpkins Like Trampolines
Buck Igloos
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
A study today revealed that bumpkins like trampolines.
Lankville Southern Easier University professor Greeve Tinders, who led the study, said that 89% of bumpkins queried admitted to owning a trampoline or “utilizing one frequently”.
“The study merely confirms what we had thought,” noted Tinders. “You can drive through the hills and observe the preponderance of trampolines and trampoline stores. They really like them.”
Researchers interviewed 325 bumpkins ranging in age from 13 to 75 about trampolines. The subjects were from an unnamed hill area in Northwestern Lankville. A series of trampoline lifestyle questions were asked as well.
“It appears that many bumpkins feel the trampoline to be a necessity. Some bumpkins admitted to owning two or three,” said Tinders.
“Many indicated that they liked having a trampoline for both the front and back yards,” Tinders added after a long pause.
Detailed results will be published in several easier-level academic journals.
LANKVILLE PEOPLE: Bus Colonel Gus Heinz
Colonel Gus Heinz
I hope you’re not one of them smart asses that thinks a man can’t be a bus colonel. I mean, I really hope– for your sake. Cause I’ll tell you right now, there ain’t no tougher bus colonel in all of Lankville than Gus Heinz.
Go ahead. Try me.
I been a bus colonel since 1981. I started driving in ’72. Number 9 bus at first. The Warm Peninsula Regions mostly. Then in ’75 they give me Route 17 to the Outlands and back.
You wanna’ see what kind of fucking balls a bus driver’s got? Give him 17 to the Outlands.
I ran that route for 6 years, never missed a day. Back in the canteen, after a long day behind the wheel, we’d have a little poker game.
The other guys, they’d say, “How can you do it, Gus? That route ain’t nothing but fucking pillheads, tarts, and bumpkins. How can you fucking stand it?”
“I got an aim in mind, boys,” I’d say. “I got an aim in mind. Gus Heinz has big fucking things in mind.”
Then, in ’81, I come up for review. Old Colonel Waynecastle was on the board. He didn’t say much until the end. I’ll never forget that moment when his steely eyes fixed on me.
“Boy, you’ve been driving Route 17 for six years?”
I stood at attention. You bet your ass you stand for attention when a bus colonel addresses you.
“YES SIR.”
He nodded but he didn’t say no more after that. Then, the next morning, when I picked up my copy of The Bus Transaction Summary (that was the trade paper back then), I saw that the colonel had been killed in a challenge.
I got me a little flag that morning, fixed it to my bus, and flew it at half mast in memory. And that– that was against code. You wasn’t allowed to have no flags on your bus. But I had to show my respect.
Well, after a couple of weeks they called me in again. I thought– shit, they found out about that flag that I mentioned earlier. I was sweating bullets. But instead, they started putting all these medals on my standard issue shirt, gave me a hell of a nice hat.
There was a short ceremony. They made me a bus colonel.
“You understand the responsibility that comes with this, Gus?” they asked.
I sure as shit did.
And I still do today.
If you’re under Colonel Gus Heinz, well, you can expect to be rode pretty tough. Tough but fair. Lot of guys can’t handle it. Lot of guys end up ducking out, can’t stand the heat. But if you stick around, you too, can be a bus colonel.
Just like me.
Thanks to Shane Meyer.
Drunken Reporter Gump Tibbs Arrested on Riding Mower
By Patt Higher-Watts
Lankville Daily News columnist Gump Tibbs was arrested last night, sources are confirming.
Police used a rope to secure the combative 52-year-old Tibbs whose blood-alcohol content was nearly five times the legal limit as he drove a lawn tractor and carried a box of beer along the Deep Eastern Suburban thruway, court documents state.
Tibbs is also being charged with several counts of trespassing after it was reported that he weaved his Neptune Cadet lawn tractor across several nearby lawns.
Police were alerted to Tibbs’ behavior around 11 p.m.
Detective Gee-Temple, who was the first to arrive at the scene, saw Tibbs standing in the road holding a box of beer. “Mr. Tipps [sic] had left the tractor running along the road and was attempting to disengage a beer from the cardboard box.”
Gee-Temple could smell alcohol on Tibbs and observed him stumble as he walked, according to court documents. Tibbs, who had slurred and slow speech, told Gee-Temple he was driving the lawn mower to a friend’s house.
Tibbs in Trouble
“He was wearing his customary white suit but it was just splattered with grass stains and beer,” the intrepid detective noted.
Gee-Temple then said that Tibbs became uncooperative and combative, failed to comply with the trooper’s commands, and was taken into custody after two other officers arrived, according to court documents.
“He called me some lewd, offensive names,” said Gee-Temple. “We don’t cater much to that sort of behavior.”
Tibbs had to be carried to the state police cruiser. The tractor was impounded.
Upon leaving the state police station to be transported to the Deep Eastern Suburban Memorial Jail, Tibbs continued to be aggressive, police said. He indicated that Gee-Temple better watch his back and said, “I am going to bury you.”
Tibbs has been charged with driving while under the influence of alcohol, disorderly conduct, public drunkenness, not having a registration and certificate of title, lewd language and threatening an officer.
The News had not issued a statement as of this morning.
Samways and Fick, Consultants: THE SUCCESS MATRIX®
Dr. Fick, of Samways and Fick
In an increasingly complex business landscape fraught with challenges, death, and torture, companies must have an explicit strategy in place to position themselves for success. How do you know if your business is succeeding? How do you know if your business is growing? Is your location no longer viable because of that foreign swingers lounge that moved in next door?
Fortunately, all of these questions can be answered by The Samways and Fick Success Matrix®.
What is the Samways and Fick Success Matrix®? Does it really work?
The answer to all these questions is Yes!®
The Samways and Fick Success Matrix® is all about managing individuals with more than one reporting line but may also be used to manage cross functional business groups and other forms of working that cross the standard vertical business units of function, space and geography.
Did you fall asleep? That’s alright– because at Samways and Fick, Consultants, we will take care of all your Success Matrix needs.
We want you to imagine a series of boxes (it can also be a pyramid, your choice) filled with your data. Now imagine these boxes (or the pyramid, your choice) on a large poster. Now imagine the poster on a wall (or taped to a whiteboard, your choice). You have successfully shared your data with your cohorts. “Please look at the posters and you’ll see our Success Matrix,” you will say. “Notice the pyramid rubrics,” you’ll then say. Why? What is the result?
The result is that, thanks to the Samways and Fick Success Matrix®, you have complete and total command of this meeting.
Dr. Samways
A testimonial:
“We didn’t know what to do. We had an employee who caused internal issues from day one from severe absenteeism, to spreading negativity throughout the office, to a loss in production, to initiating challenges on a regular basis. How to exterminate him was of major concern to us especially since his birthday was coming up and we really, really didn’t want to have to go buy one of those supermarket cakes. You know how you have to stand there at the counter and wait for the ponderous guy in the white coat to write out the guy’s name in icing? I just couldn’t imagine doing that. Plus, he had a long foreign name and nobody knew how the hell to spell it. Anyway, Samways and Fick (Consultants) came in and led us through the process of uncovering the issues and dealing face-to-face with performance management and ultimately discipline procedures through the Success Matrix®. While it was a difficult thing to lure him out into the woods, it was in the best interest of all concerned. We are now operating at maximum speed with increased production using employees who no longer have to deal with such a negative internal roadblock. Thanks Samways and Fick!
Call us today. We are mildly excited to begin preparing your Success Matrix®
Samways and Fick, Consultants: Helping You Reach the Area Near the Top of Your Mountain.
Running with the Bumpkins – a Lankville News Special Report
By Ida Rumpus
This is the time of year when dedicated runners begin gearing up for the Vitiello Decorative Hams Lankville Marathon, which takes place on April 17 (registration now open). With shoes laced tight and parkas secure against harsh winds blowing down from the Lankville Partial Icy Regions, intrepid citizens begin venturing out on longer and longer training runs, dreaming of their upcoming jaunt through “Pork Glitter Alley” (miles 10-13) or anticipating the grueling crucible of the “Chute of Shame” (miles 18-22).
But some would-be marathoners have reported strange sightings as they wind through “The Woods” or circumambulate The Mud Pits during longer runs: Odd shapes keeping pace with them for a mile or two, sticking close to the shadows, making cooing noises before mysteriously dropping away.
Having sifted the facts and interviewed dozens of local fitness enthusiasts – not to mention studying footage and images hurriedly shot by panicked runners – this reporter has uncovered the alarming truth: The bumpkins are running. In droves.
This bumpkin attempted to give a press conference on the running phenomenon but ended up just waving his arms for 45 minutes.
“Bumpkin behavior is hard to predict, especially as the weather turns,” noted Detective Gee-Temple, who has become somewhat of an expert as he continues to work the “bumpkin beat” for the Lankville Police Force. Yet area psychologist Winifred P. Temple (unclear relation to the detective) believes bumpkins are given a bad rap. “They’re people. They’re outside. They need exercise, just like everyone else. Sue them,” she said.
Berenice Cradles, millennial entrepreneur and recent MacLankan Genius awardee, is planning to run her fifth consecutive Lankville Marathon this spring. She was out running last weekend in the Deep Lankville Basin Area, a loop that allows her to do “double duty” and inspect ongoing construction on her upcoming mixed-use complex, tentatively named {[@**]}, when she noticed a band of bumpkins jogging alongside her.
“Normally I like to run with my posse,” said Cradles, “but sometimes you just need to get out and let the ideas flow.” Cradles was blissfully riffing on anagrams for her favorite slogan “Lankville: Comeback Nation,” (“Love me, taint ball knock…”) when she saw them. They were surprisingly spry, averred the young genius, with five or six bumpkins moving swiftly through the undergrowth and gravelly pits spotting the Basin.
“I have to say, the bumpkins were pushing me there for a little while.”
Then as Cradles neared her Prius, parked at the Three Pines Double-Tiered Strip Mall, the bumpkins suddenly disappeared.
Ex-boyfriend Josh Wilson-Shires, who’d waited patiently in the car to drive Cradles home, was disturbed when she told him of the incident.
“Harmless or not, I don’t like it,” he said, echoing the sentiments of many Lankville residents. Yet it remains unclear what, if any, laws the bumpkins might be breaking as they shadow runners on their routes about town – or what, if anything, can be done about it.
Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.
Dick Oakes, Jr.
I had put in a couple of weeks at the towels by the pound joint when the crazy old broad that owned the place asked if I wanted to go down to the shore. “We’ll get a motel room on the beach,” she said. “You can get drunk.”
I figured on that being alright.
She had an ancient old car painted gold with big rusted fins off the back. The seats were torn to living hell– you sank about two feet when you sat in them.
“I don’t know how to drive,” she said, standing there holding a battered cardboard suitcase and a bag full of towels. “My husband did all the driving but then they murdered him. He went quickly.”
Who knew what to make of it?
I took the wheel and she guided me south through a bunch of fuck-all towns. There was a place called “Memory Pool” and another one called “Budget Pillows”. Nothing but highway and mean stone structures– lived in but with the appearance of dereliction.
“Who came up with the name for these places?” I was trying to figure out what was going on with the speedometer. It would spike up suddenly to 90 even though I was keeping it at a steady 55.
She lit one cigarette right off the last. “Who knows? There ain’t no history here.”
After awhile, she asked me to pull into a gas station so she could pick some suntan oil. “Let’s have a tallboy wrapped in brown paper,” I said. I watched her waddle off.
There was a guy in the next lane, filling up a pickup whose bed was full of pumpkins. He saw me glance at him.
“Did you want a pumpkin? Maybe one for your wife, there?”
“We ain’t married.”
“You can give a pumpkin to her. It’ll be nice.”
I looked at the guy a second.
“You like living here,” I asked. “This country?”
He ignored the question. “Be real nice. Nice picnic on the beach. Pumpkins.”
There weren’t no merit in any of it.
After awhile, the crazy broad wandered back with a big bag of junk. She had picked up three tallboys, all wrapped in paper. Shit, that’s about the nicest thing anybody’s done for you in a long damn time, Oakes.
I looked at the can. FUN BEER.
“Who came up with this name?”
She was opening a bag of chips and smoking a cigarette at the same time.
“I don’t know. My husband drank it. It’s made in the East.”
I cracked one open and pretended it didn’t matter none.
We pulled into the Tropic Shores around dinnertime. It was another one of those disjointed modernist places painted a bright blue. There were a couple of palm trees in the grassy yard and a bunch of lounge chairs scattered about. She gave me a couple of twenties and sent me towards the office. I watched her stare at the sea.
It was a little balding guy behind the counter. He had a bunch of horse racing programs spread out all over the counter. There were a couple spent cans of beer. FUN BEER.
“Well, now, we only got the one room that faces the parking lot. Ain’t no kind of view really.”
I threw one of the twenties at him. “That seal it?”
“Well, now, no, we usually ask $27.50.”
“What kind of bed you got in there?”
“It’s got two singles. But you can push them together. If you stand on the left side of the left bed and your wife there stands on the right side of the right bed and then you both…”
I cut him off. “We ain’t married.” I threw the twenties at him. “How about getting me a couple of six packs of that Fun Beer? Tall boys?”
“Alright. I’ll send them up. But that about kills your change.”
I nodded and looked out through the blinds. The crazy broad was still staring at the sea. A bunch of seagulls flitted around.
“The room got heavy curtains?”
“Yessir, it sure does. My wife made them herself. What you do is you take fabric and you allow for 10 inches to account for the hems. Now your length is going to depend on where the rod is hung. With that room, we went with a…”
“Alright, you get those tallboys for me, right?”
I figured on it being a hell of a long evening.
OPINION: Our Diet Candy Ain’t No Fuck Around Shit
By Joe Tipps
Here at Tipps Supermarkets, we just started carrying diet candy.
And let me tell you something, our diet candy ain’t no fuck around shit.
You might have tried that diet candy bullshit they got over at Barlow Foods. Comes in those big barrels? You ever see someone scooping candy out of a barrel? Makes you look like a grade A asshole, I’ll go right out on a limb and assert that fucking shit right now.
That Barlow Foods Candy– you know what it says to me? It says, “hey, we’re just assing around here. We don’t give no god damn shit about your dietetic needs.” But that ain’t what you’re gonna’ get here at Tipps. You’re gonna’ get diet candy that pile drives you right in the taste buds. A god damn feast of diet candy.
So, if you’re just some kinda’ shithead, sure– keep going to get your diet candy at Barlow’s. Otherwise, take a step up to the plate and come on over to Tipps, motherfucker.
The opinions of Joe Tipps are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.
Pondicherry: “Thank You, Dumb Bumpkins”
President Pondicherry
President Pondicherry last night thanked all the “dumb bumpkins” who helped him win election in 2016.
“I love Lankville and I really love the untaught hill bumpkins who voted for me,” Pondicherry noted, at a small rally that was twice interrupted by fire. “I’m personally proud of all the wandering brainless feeble-minded clods who came down out of the hills and made their presence felt.”
“God bless Lankville,” the President noted after a strange, nigh-supernal pause.
It is unclear exactly how many bumpkins voted for Pondicherry in the general election.
“Well, only about 50 people voted anyway,” said political analyst Brock Belvedere, Jr. “I think it would be safe to say that there were some bumpkins in that group. Provided they could find their way out of the hills, of course.”
Pondicherry reminded rally attendees that he would soon be making Lankville great again, forever.
“We’re building the pyramids as we speak,” the President noted. “They’re big pyramids. You can fit a lot of people in there.”
Pondicherry wandered off unattended and the interview was ended prematurely.
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