Posts Tagged ‘Lloyd Byas-Kirk’

Anniversary of Bumpkins Carried Off By Wind to be Commemorated

October 13, 2015 Leave a comment
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk

By Lloyd Byas-Kirk


The one-year anniversary of the disappearance of a bumpkin family that were carried off by the wind in an Eastern Lankville trailer park will be commemorated by a scientific explanation of how wind carries off bumpkins and a sheet cake.

Did Schropp have a back alley encounter with a bumpkin? The Lankville Daily News: ESSENTIAL READ

The bumpkin trailer

The event will take place at the Casa Montecristo (an elegant reception hall) on Saturday, October 17th. Science wunderkind Danny Madison and meteorologist Jack Quintz will be the featured speakers. Tickets are $15 (with 10% of proceeds going to charity).

On October 19th of last year, a family of seven bumpkins were taken away by a strong wind. Their fate has never been discerned.

“It will be a celebration of their lives,” said event organizer Lloyd Byas-Kirk. “We will always remember them.”

Police Station Number Changes Nearly Finished

September 16, 2015 Leave a comment
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk

By Lloyd Byas-Kirk


Several police stations in Lankville are getting new numbers.

The changes are the result of a committee formed by Detective Gee-Temple and the Bureau of Probes who decided that nine stations should be numbered consecutively. Heretofore, because many stations had been eliminated, there was a number 54 station (Snowy Lake Area) and a number 55 station (Northern Hole Area) but no stations numbered 8-53.

“We felt this was very confusing,” noted Gee-Temple, who said the committee met over 20 times to decide on the new numbering system. “So, now the stations will just be numbered 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and so on.”

“We had some other ideas, including ditching the numerical system altogether and naming the stations after famous politicians, mall designers, and [decorative ham magnate] Chris Vitiello but in the end we just went back to consecutive numbers,” Gee-Temple added.

Former Station 115 (Western Cave District), now to become Station 9 or Station 2, according to conflicting reports.

Former Station 115 (Western Cave District), now to become Station 9 or Station 2, according to conflicting reports.

Under the new setup, Station 54 becomes Station 7, Station 55 becomes Station 3, and Station 82 (Pyramid Area) becomes Station 6. Other stations will remain the same.

Contractors have been working on the changes for several months.

“Gotta’ big sign there with a number on it and we gotta’ nail it in above the door,” noted Cloff Joffrey, a local contractor. “Big job, Lloyd. Big job.”

Joffrey became distracted by a lewd pamphlet and the interview ended prematurely.

Gee-Temple noted that several officers are still using the old station numbers which has resulted in some confusion.

“We apologize for the complete lack of police response recently. Understand that this is a process. It will be over as soon as they get those signs up,” the intrepid Detective said.

Schropp Releases “Breakfast Sandwich Boy”; Holds Book Signing

July 13, 2015 Leave a comment
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk

By Lloyd Byas-Kirk


Brian Schropp has gained fame for his cuisine articles. Now he writes books too!

The Lankville Daily News columnist released his first collection of short stories on Saturday and held a book signing at Randy Pendleton’s Double Book Hut in the Deep Northern suburbs yesterday.

Attendance was reported as sparse although Schropp noted that “there were some people in the store”.

“I only signed a couple of books but that’s OK. Just getting the word out,” the newly-minted author averred.

Brian Schropp on Cuisine

Brian Schropp, author.

“I didn’t think he signed any,” said Randy Pendleton’s Double Book Hut employee Larry Klacik, who assisted in managing the event. “He was over in a distant corner of the store by the knitting section so maybe people didn’t notice him or something. But I know that he arrived with five copies and then one guy who had ordered the book online returned his copy directly to Brian so he left with six. Pretty sure he didn’t sign any.”

Schropp chalked the comment up to a misunderstanding.

“I think I signed at least ten,” he noted. “But it’s true, I left with more than I came with.”

Schropp began staring at a nearby throw tarp and we did not pursue the contradiction.

The collection “Breakfast Sandwich Boy” features two new stories never before published and a photograph of the author on the cover.

“He tried to give me a copy but I politely declined,” noted Klacik, a part-time employee at the Double Book Hut, who serves as assistant manager of the puzzle table. “I don’t read much about food and plus I was kind of drunk. But he was a nice enough guy.”

The book will be sold in selected bookshops throughout the Deep Northern Suburbs and will be available online and via the publisher.

Police Issue “Tawny Alert” Over Strange Handbills; Schropp Briefly Questioned

July 8, 2015 Leave a comment
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk

By Lloyd Byas-Kirk


Lankville Police and the Bureau of Probes have issued a “tawny alert” after a series of strange handbills appeared yesterday on area telephone poles, bulletin boards and parked cars.

The handbill, which advertises a furniture refinishing service, is believed to be managed and operated by a notorious felon known only as “Steve, the Cat Handbag”.


One of the strange handbills that has Lankville on tawny alert.

“We arrested Steve back in ’88 for robbing a pretzel kiosk at gunpoint,” noted Detective Gee-Temple, who was the first to arrive at the scene. “That’s something that doesn’t hold any water here in Lankville.”

The flier, however, makes claims of Steve’s complete rehabilitation and skill at furniture refinishing. A phone number is proffered.

Gee-Temple for one says he’s not believing it.

“I’d recommend that citizens take their furniture refinishing business elsewhere. Steve is a dangerous criminal. If things don’t go his way, he’ll rob another pretzel kiosk, no question. We’ve issued the tawny alert to try to prevent this from happening again.”

The Bureau of Probes uses a series of “color alerts” to warn citizens– tawny, cobalt, cherry dahlia and burnt cinnamon (the highest level).

“We went with tawny because we’re going to give Steve the opportunity to explain these handbills,” noted Gee-Temple, who paused to investigate a shooting in the hallway. “If Steve does not answer the questions to our satisfaction or if he has gone on the lam, then we’ll certainly increase the warning to say, cherry dahlia or maybe even burnt cinnamon. Hate to do that, but we have to protect the public.”


“…his entire face was pressed against the window and he had this really strange look…”


Lankville Daily News cuisine writer Brian Schropp was briefly questioned yesterday after the epicure was spotted leering oddly into several Deep Northern Suburban Lankville eateries.

“I looked up and there he was– his entire face was pressed against the window and he had this really strange look,” noted waitress Ursula Peters-Holly of The Breakfast Caucus Restaurant. “An hour later, I looked up and he was still in the exact same spot, with the same look, so I snapped a picture.”

Schropp was later spotted outside The Sandwich Castle and The Casa Montecristo (an elegant reception hall).

“The look on my face may appear goofy,” Schropp later explained, “but I’m actually concentrating deeply on the restaurant within, trying to understand its inner workings, decide whether it fits into the parameters of my enhanced taste palette and then, ultimately, coming to conclusions about reviewing the restaurant or not in my column.”

“Perfectly reasonable to me,” noted Gee-Temple, who was the first to arrive to the scene.

Schropp was released into the care of his parents.

The Small Towns of Lankville

May 29, 2015 1 comment
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk

By Lloyd Byas-Kirk

Lloyd Byas-Kirk recently won a large, unwieldy trophy with several distinct layers supported by columns for his series on the small towns of Lankville.

One passes through a verdant dell, a gigantic graveyard and an abandoned cake refinery before arrival in the town of “Curtberg”, located in the Eastern Lankville Mountainous Regions. There is a gas station, a handsome restaurant named after a former Lankville President, some houses and some cars. It is a place where a man can sit outside and ruminate over the morning sun coruscating brilliantly off the rooftops, it is a place for peace but also a place for guns, it is a place that holds Lankville tradition deep to its breasts [sic].

Harry Solids is the “mayor” of Curtberg. “Well, I was not officially elected,” he says, as he we stand in front of the post office for reasons unclear. “But, I act as the sort of person that sits on floats and accepts medals and other ceremonial geegaws. And, when there is dissent, I’m the person that gets the beating. I accept that. It’s part of the job.”

Main Street, Curtberg

Main Street, Curtberg

Glenn Chowder has lived here for as long as he can remember. He works at the gas station, in the belt department. “This is a good town full of good people. We don’t cater much to interlopers,” he notes, as he consumes his meal (the meal of the Lankvillian– a hot dog and some raisins) in the grass behind the gas station. “We try to keep the town clean of nonsense.”

People like to look out windows in Curtberg. “We like to see what’s going on,” said resident Debbie Didier. “Like to see if the fence is holding up, if the garbage cans are on their paving stones at a proper angle, that the lids are on straight. It’s the little things that are important here,” Didier added.

Although the sun makes its radiant appearance in the early morning, it rains often here. A pounding, vigorous rain that leaves everything soppy and moist. “We’re all pretty much half-wet all the time,” Solids noted, as we moved along Main Street, passing in and out of a series of clashing storms. “You buy, say, a 24-pack of beer from the liquor store and the cardboard container is sodden before you get it out the door. You know how cardboard just kind of breaks down and turns real floppy? Just flops all over the place, you can’t control it, why try? And then it lands in the street and all the cans roll down the hill. That happens pretty frequently, everyday in fact. And I buy the big cans. The cans with the new “vast cavity” for more accessible drinking. Have you seen those?”

“I don’t drink,” I admitted.

Solids looked off towards the mountains. “Well, anyway, a bunch of my cans are at the bottom of the hill. They throw some straw over them and that’s that.”

“Terminus,” he added, after a long pause.

Pastor Glenn Laboy runs the town’s church. “I give a Sunday sermon and we have some little room sessions where people talk about life issues that are bothering them– work problems, the ceaseless rain, how hard it is to get anybody to put out for you anymore. I don’t judge, I listen. My job is to listen.”

“Shall we read a passage together in celebration of your article?”

Byas-Kirk immediately ran out of the church. The article will be continued at a later date.

“No More Fucking Around,” Vows Woman

December 22, 2014 Leave a comment
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk

By Lloyd Byas-Kirk


Genevieve Rumpus (no relation to the Ida Rumpus who reports for this paper) was doing her weekly shopping last Saturday morning at the north Lankville location of Barlow Foods, trying to decide between farfalla and bowtie pasta, when a cool, authoritative voice told her, “Quit fucking around.”

She paused, startled, and glanced over her shoulder. Then she realized the voice was coming from inside her head. With that realization came another: She had been fucking around in the grocery store for the past 45 minutes.

Genevieve Rumpus not fucking around.

Genevieve Rumpus not fucking around.

“It was shocking and liberating all at the same time,” she said from her home in Lankville Heights.

Suddenly, Mrs. Rumpus began moving through the aisles with a speed and gusto she had never known before. Deciding between garbanzo and kidney beans had often been agonizing – but not on this day. She quickly tossed a can of premium garbanzo beans (or “chickpeas”) into her cart and moved on. In the cereal aisle, not glancing at other choices, she instantly selected a box of family-size Barlowberries-n-Oats.

Her biggest challenge awaited in Barlow Foods’ copious section of beer and mixers, featuring a walk-in refrigerator with bottles divided by type, size, and brightly colored 3-D labels.

“I never know what I’m in the mood for,” she complained, let alone what her husband of thirty years, Richard Rumpus, will wish to imbibe as he takes in a Sunday afternoon contest involving the Lankville Lions.

“Quit fucking around,” the voice repeated as she lingered in the walk-in cooler, wavering between a six-pack of Wynken de Wheat Light and Ashmole Amber Lager.

Barlow Foods aisle where fucking around often takes place.

Barlow Foods aisle where fucking around often takes place.

With a burst of relief, Mrs. Rumpus obeyed the voice in her head and snatched down a box of Harley’s Half Ale from the top shelf.

“I’d always wanted to try it,” she reported. “But I’d been fucking around with other beverages for years and years.”

The newfound attitude of not fucking around even extended to Mrs. Rumpus’s selection of a check-out aisle. Normally, she said, she would dither near the check-out, trying to decide between cashier Sylvie Idlestein, an old friend from occupational school, and Jimmy Feathers, known far and wide for his skill at toting up and bagging groceries.

Mrs. Rumpus spared a curt nod to her friend Ms. Idlestein and moved her loaded cart into Feathers’ check-out lane. She admitted that upon doing so, a kind of warmth spread up her spine and tingled back down through her arms and into the tips of her fingers.

“I suppose that’s what it feels like to finally stop fucking around,” she laughed, while vowing to apply the attitude to other aspects of her life, such as her adult bowling league and fingerling potato workshop.

Still No Answers in Boat Accident

December 19, 2014 Leave a comment
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk

By Lloyd Byas-Kirk


Despite reports citing speed, alcohol, and massive mental illness playing a role in the December 3rd boat crash on Lankville Vortex Lake that killed 11, a federal Fish, Boats and Flotation Device officer told The Lankville Daily News that the investigation is far from over.

Brent Massey-Aunt, FBFD officer and one of two officers who investigated the accident, said the incident is “still being probed.”

“Whenever there is a boat accident, a lot of stuff sinks to the bottom of the lake or pond or whatever it may be,” noted Massey-Aunt, who was interviewed while he stood at the water’s edge piercing the lake surface with a long stick for reasons unclear. “And we are still looking into the unbalanced and deranged nature of all the known persons aboard. All 11 were complete maniacs but to what extent, we are unsure.”

Here's a boat (example).

Here’s a boat (example).

Massey-Aunt continued poking the water with the stick. Nothing further was offered.

“The thing about speed [is] even at slow speeds, when you have fiberglass smashing into rocks, you’re going to have significant damage,” noted Detective Gee-Temple, who also responded to the scene. “We have to look closely at the rocks. We don’t have a lot [of] answers until we do that. Hell, we don’t even know where the [bodies] are right now.”

We asked Gee-Temple if they might be at the bottom of the lake.

“Could be, could be at the bottom of the lake. Definitely. They could also be in the woods. They could have been stolen. Eaten. Lot of possibilities Lloyd.” The intrepid detective opened a file cabinet and then closed it quickly.

“Why don’t you let the professionals handle it?” he advised.

It is unknown if any of the victims were wearing flotation devices.

“The answers are currently wrapped in a present of mystery,” said Massey-Aunt, in reference to the upcoming holidays. The officer then accidentally dropped his stick into the lake. “Damn,” he said quietly. “Damn. Can’t catch a break.”

A press conference is expected in the next few days.

Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen Begins Tonight

December 2, 2014 Leave a comment
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk

By Lloyd Byas-Kirk


Dr. Rubby, who created Dr. Rubby's Festival of Illuminated Snowmen.

Dr. Rubby, who created Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen.

Nothing says the holidays in Lankville like Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen. The long-running pageant will return tonight in select locations across the country. Opening ceremonies are marked for 7PM.

“Everyone is glad when Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen returns,” said a local resident, who later developed severe mental problems and had to be placed in a cage. “You really know that Christmas is about here when Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen comes back!”

A series of patriotic pageants will kick-off the event, now in its 47th year. Dr. Rubby himself, now 78, will speak at the Lankville Pines event.

“It’s great to be able to bring my festival of illuminated snowmen back to Lankville for everyone to see,” noted Dr. Rubby, who began placing illuminated snowmen in fields in 1967. “As always, my festival of illuminated snowmen will be bigger, thicker and better this year. It’s always growing, always expanding, always widening its girth,” Dr. Rubby added.

Over 7 million people attend Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen annually and the event routinely nets over $150 billion.

One of the snowmen from Dr. Rubby's Festival of Illuminated Snowmen.

One of the snowmen from Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen.

“We’re expecting a great crowd for Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen,” noted an event spokesman, who refused to be identified and was later forced to eat a large seat cushion at gunpoint. “Everyone in Lankville loves Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen and it’s an integral part of the holiday season.”

For more information on Dr. Rubby’s Festival of Illuminated Snowmen, a series of hotlines have been established. Call 5-2671 (Eastern), 5-3311 (Western), 5-1618 (Desert).



Movement to Remember the Bumpkins? Schropp Ruins Local Man

November 24, 2014 Leave a comment
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk

By Lloyd Byas-Kirk


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.




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.

CUISINE by Brian Schropp

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.

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,

Respected Grocer Cameron’s Yard Defiled; Bumpkins Ruled Out, Schropp Suspected

November 20, 2014 Leave a comment
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk

By Lloyd Byas-Kirk


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.

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.”




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.



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,

Items Found in Bumpkin Trailer; Schropp on Cuisine

November 6, 2014 Leave a comment
By Lloyd Byas-Kirk

By Lloyd Byas-Kirk


A few items were found inside the trailer belonging to the bumpkins that were carried off by the wind a few weeks back.

The bumpkins may have had some hand towels, says Gee-Temple.

The bumpkins may have had some hand towels, says Gee-Temple.

“There were some ordinary items, yes,” noted Detective Gee-Temple of the Lankville Bureau of Probes. “Nothing particularly interesting, Lloyd. I mean, you want to make a story out of their hand towels or what they had in the fridge?”

We nodded excitedly and were promised full access to the inventory as early as Friday.


My folks spoke of a place over the years, a seemingly magical place from their youth. It was called “The Fry Hut” and according to Mom and Dad, it was a teenager’s hangout dream. The owner (Hal Slappy, Jr.) would fry anything- ANYTHING- the kids brought him in one of his forty-two luxurious deep friers. They would bring hamburgers, hotdogs, fish tacos (yes, Lankville was the creator of the fish taco) and then feast in deep-fried goodness while making out in their cars.

The Fry Hut in Deep Lankville.

The Fry Hut in Deep Lankville.

Was this place still around? Mom and Dad weren’t too sure. “It may have been closed some years back because of health code violations,” Dad said. “There was a lot of underaged drinking too,” Mom added. “Now Brian, let’s get these pumpkins inside for our Thanksgiving display.” But I was no longer interested in pumpkins. My mind was far away. It was on The Fry Hut. I had to find it. I had to find out if the magic was still there.

The place was clear across Lankville. “Up in the hills” some might say. Out of my comfort zone of the suburbs. I would need to walk (my parent-accompanied provisional permit had recently expired). But for the sake of the article, off I went.

By the time I cleared downtown and the other side of the city I was met with the rolling hills and mountains of Deep Lankville. The roads became narrow and some parts unpaved; local yokels drove by– blasting their rock anthems from their trucks and tossing beer cans and shoes at me. The occasional shout of ‘”Get out of the way breakfast sandwich boy” were heard. The vague directions I got from my folks didn’t help matters much but with the help of a few good locals (a special shout out to “Trucker Joe” for the lift) I soon found my destination.

Hal and Gretchen Slappy

Hal and Gretchen Slappy

The Fry Hut was nestled in a wooded clearing off a dirt road– it had seen better years. My heart sank a little thinking it was closed for good but the front door banged open and out stepped a woman in a bathrobe, curlers, and wielding a shotgun. I quickly explained who I was and what I was doing on her property. She said her name was Gretchen Slappy, Hal’s wife, and she would get him. Soon Ol’ Hal himself came from out behind the Fry Hut, wielding a shotgun. “What are you doin’ here boy?” he asked. Again I explained the situation. “Are you from around here?” I said I lived in Lankville. “No boy, from around here!! In these parts!!!” No, I had to say I was from clear across Lankville. He shook his head and said that the Fry Hut was only open to locals now. After a begging and pleading session emphasizing how far I traveled, Hal said I could come in if I got on my hands and knees and really, really begged. So I swallowed my pride and did so. He produced a video camera from somewhere and recorded the entire display for reasons unclear.

Finally, I was permitted entry. The interior was in no better shape than the outside. The counter tops and “sitting booths” (as Hal called them) showed their age and were littered with trash. The windows were covered with a thick layer of dust which made even the sunlight coming through seem dirty. Hal set me up at the counter with a crumpled place mat and a spoon from a rusted sink. He went on about the history of the place for awhile and then about different frying options he provided. But I had a glorious idea which I hoped he was open to. “Say Hal, do you have an egg?” “Yeah” “How about some bacon?” “Yup” “Then if you had a little cheese and a soft tender biscuit maybe you could fry that for me?” I could tell by the coldness in his eyes that I had crossed some sort of line. “Get out boy, get out now, don’t you or your kind ever come back here.”
With that I quickly left and made an even quicker pace when I heard the click of the shotgun as I went through the door. It took me a long while to get home since I made sure to stay off the back roads in case Hal was going to follow me. (Again a special thanks to “Trucker Joe” who found me on Interstate 27 and gave me a partial lift home).

So with disappointment in my heart I end my first review. Disappointment that is merely escalated by the fact that, once again, my work has been forced to follow A SPURIOUS, POINTLESS ARTICLE ABOUT THE GOD DAMN BUMPKINS. The bumpkins had stuff in their trailer? IS THIS NEWS??? Furthermore, it seems quite obvious that my next article will follow THE BUMPKINS AGAIN when Lloyd finds out exactly what they had in their fridge. SERIOUSLY, LANKVILLE DAILY NEWS??!! Calming…calming…I’m alright now.

I hope next time I will actually be able to write about some food. Until then, please keep your mind and mouth open to new things.

Happy eating!

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