Posts Tagged ‘Zach Keebaugh’

Keebaugh Delights Partygoers with Cowbell

March 31, 2017 Leave a comment

By Bernie Keebler


Lankville Daily News investigative reporter Zach Keebaugh surprised partygoers last night by deftly playing a cowbell, sources are confirming.

The event, sponsored by the Danny Madison Company and held in honor of the soon-to-be-released “Madison Head Calculator” took place at the Casa Montecristo (an elegant reception hall).

Keebaugh rocks the cowbell.

“The Madison Head Calculator will allow for hands-free operation of all features on our wildly-popular “Reckoner Exactra 2.0” said wunderkind inventor Madison, who spent most of the evening testing alkalinity levels of various pizza cheeses. “We are particularly pleased with the design of the Head Calculator,” added Madison, “the contours are modern and innovative, which is what you would expect from our products.”

After dinner (mostly pizzas that were not part of Madison’s experiments), several guests began dancing to tunes spun by DJ Humphrey.

“That’s when Zach repaired to the middle of the floor and began playing the cowbell,” said a participant, who refused to be identified. “It was definitely the finest cowbell playing that I’ve seen since Dennis “Cowbell” Linkous tore up the cowbell charts back in the eighties.”

Keebaugh, clad in a fashionable white dress shirt and orange paisley tie, noted that the cowbell is “part of [my] personal ethos.”

“I believe in [the cowbell],” the journalist averred. “It’s totally my shit. Anybody else that comes along [to challenge me] will get pimped. Just the way it is, yo.”

Keebaugh treated onlookers to nearly 30 minutes of cowbell-playing.

“It was pretty much masterful,” said another participant, who was later arrested on a firearms charge. “It pretty much stopped everything going on in the room. Except for Danny Madison. He kept on with those experiments of his.”

Keebaugh said he plans to continue his impromptu playing of the cowbell in the future.

“Oh yeah, the peeps, man, they love it. You gotta’ give the people what they want. You gotta’ put the asses in the seats, yo.”

The Madison Head Calculator will be released in mid-April.

Is Duking Safe? A Zach Keebaugh Investigation

March 29, 2017 1 comment

Zach Keebaugh

Listen up, yo. I know you’ve all been reading a shit TON about this whole duking business that’s been running rampant like a nun in a cucumber patch. You’re probably asking yourself, “Fuck, yo, is it even safe to go outside without getting my dumb ass-self duked?” Well, thankfully, your boy Zach is here to break it down for you. That’s Zach as in, Zach Keebaugh, Investigative Reporter, straight up.

First thing I did was head right on down to the Mild South Peninsula police HQ to talk to my man Detective Gee-Temple. This flatfoot has been the “p” in police in Lankville ever since I was in Dampers.

“Let’s talk about duking. Now, what the fuck is duking?” I probed.

“Well, Zach, duking is basically the act of dropping a sandwich on top of another’s sandwich as a sign of frustration or disrespect. It’s a street term.”

“I’m street, cracker. I’m street.”

He looked at me for awhile and then continued.

“Anyway, Zach, what we’ve seen all over Lankville lately is an upsurge in these so-called duking incidents. And, as of this moment, we have no leads or suspects.”

A pretty little secretary in a pink pantsuit suddenly brought a box of old encyclopedias into the gumshoe’s office.

“Zach, I need to check on these. I’m sorry but our interview is now over.”

I was onto something like a boss, no question about it.

Next thing I did was go interview this dog by the name of Pat Alvarado over in the Outlands.  Ol’ Avocado, as I started calling him (he didn’t like it at all, but fuck it) had been a victim of a massive duke down at the Pizza Disturbance. “I was just eating a turkey club and this old guy duked me with a meatball sub,” he recalled while smoking a cigarette in a darkened room. “It was…it was a mess…it was horrible. Nobody should ever have to go through…”

This ninja started crying then but I kept the probe going hard to the net.

“Listen, so what did this duker look like, man? How can you let some old codger duke your shit like that?”

“He was…probably about 65,” he said, pausing to take a long drag off the cig and a big swig of some cheap wine. “He came out of nowhere, man. Just absolutely out of nowhere, man. He duked me and then…he was gone.”

“So, it was a duke and run?”

“It was a duke and run, Zach. A duke and run.”

Ol’ Avocado lit one cigarette off the last and started fingering a steak knife so I figured I’d better head.

The psychology department at Lankville State Easier University was my last stop. That’s where I met Dr. R. Shawn Stanley Blyleven. Yep, that’s what the big ol’ fancypants gold plate on his door said.

“What’s the R stand for?” I probed.

He casually watered a nearby fern. “Does the R bother you?”

“Nah, nah, fuck that noise,” I said. “Zach K doesn’t need any kind of trick cyclist. Tell me about this duking shit, yo. You seeing duke victims in here or what?”

“This is a university Zach, so we don’t do any therapy here. But, yes, duking is beginning to show up in the literature. It has traumatized a lot of people in Lankville. How do you feel about it?”

“I’m investigating the piss out of it. Otherwise, yeah I feel alright. Not as good as I’d feel if I could get some cutie to let me stir the paint, if you know what I’m saying.”

He looked vastly confused.

“Well, now, Zach. Obviously duke victims are likely to suffer long-term effects and…”

I interrupted.

“Yo, is duking limited to just sandwiches. Like, can I duke a guy with a slice of pizza?”

“If it’s slice on slice then, yes, it’s considered duking.”

I scratched my chin and stared earnestly at the fern.


What’s the takeaway then?  Will duking become an epidemic or just an isolated incident perpetrated by some derelict galoot?  Who knows? But take your boy’s advice on this one and take it to the bank– don’t be cavalier about eating your sandy in public. Protect it and maybe you can protect yourself– protect yourself from getting duked.

Zach Keebaugh won a trophy for this report.

Shane Tibbs contributed to this report.

The Lankville Music Beat

July 22, 2016 1 comment
By Zachary Keebaugh

By Zachary Keebaugh

Yo, lately I’ve been getting all up in [Lankville Daily News editor] Marles Cundiff’s cranny. I’m all like, Hey Marles– your paper’s coverage of the Lankville music scene is for dog shit, man. And he’s all like well, why don’t you write something then Zach and I’m all like yeah, sure Marles, you bet I will. (That’s exactly how the convo went down). Anyway, so your boy, Zachary (I’m now going by Zachary) is going to be bringing you news of the fat tempos and mad rhythms from all over Lankville right here in a little column I like to call “The Lankville Music Beat”.

So, I took a bus down to the Mild Southern Peninsula Regions to check out this femme psych folk group The Winds Through the Barley. On the way down, I had this dick sitting in back of me who wouldn’t shut the fuck up about some new political movement called Lankville First! that was gaining momentum in the outlands. “It’s all about Lankvillians for a more Lankvillian Lankville,” he kept droning on and on. He tried to give me some little pamphlet that had a picture of a bunch of blow drys standing super erect and holding up some gaudy flags. “Yo, I don’t go in for no creeds,” I told him and that got him to move back a few rows and out of my shit.

I was met at the bus station by Tommy Candiotti, manager of The Winds Through the Barley. He took me to some place nearby that served gluten free vegan cheese-infused mushroom sandwiches– you should have seen these monsters. I was all like, WHOA, LOOK AT THIS FUCKING SHIT. IT’S LIKE THE COLOSSUS OF MUSHROOM SANDWICHES, YO  when they arrived. Tommy’s face got all red so I gathered he didn’t cuss much and I kept it chill after that.

He told me all about The Winds Through the Barley. “They were founded in 2005 over at the Peninsula Day Care University and have basically grown up together,” he said. “They just finished their first album and it’s doing real well, as you know. They’ve been on tour but are also coming home a lot because the folks here just love seeing a home grown group.”Music Beat

“I guess so,” I said. “I mean, the Mild Southern Peninsula Region has been an overflowing toilet for music, yo.”

“Well, it has,” Tommy said, as he viciously tore into the mushroom sandwich. Seriously, he was wolfing that fucker. “We’ve had a few tinkly piano people but that’s about it.”

Magic Lantern is the first offering from The Winds Through the Barley and it features the for real vocals of lead singer Ruby Orsulak-Finley, who also plays the mandolin, the lute, and the Southern Peninsula pump organ. And plus, yo, she’s a looker, man. Zachary gets a little nervous around the lookers, I’ll admit it and I ended up knocking over an entire tray of muffins in the process. Fortunately, my boy Tommy took care of the bill.

“We like the 20-minute long suite,” she said, over a gluten free vegan cheese-infused mushroom sandwich sans mushroom and a big glass of phosphorus-enriched juice that was squeezed from sand or some shit. “And we like an emerging synthesizer which cannot be heard with the human ear until the very end of the suite at which point it suddenly usurps the pump organ and flows lightly into the arrangement like a batch of carbonated bubbles.”

“Is your music relevant?” I probed.  I still gotta’ probe, man. Even though this isn’t an investigative report, I still gotta’ probe.

“Of course,” Orsulak-Finley noted. “Our music is for everyone and any music that is for everyone is always and will always be relevant.”

Ssss, Leader Singer of "The Winds Through the Barley".

Ruby Orsulak-Finley, Lead Singer of “The Winds Through the Barley”.

I looked down then and noticed that my mushroom has disappeared. It was just gone, yo, like it had never been. It threw me off, I admit it. I looked around the place and the people, who before had appeared to be ordinary folks just eating mushrooms now looked diabolical, like the spawns of some overwhelmingly large and nameless evil.

“We can’t wait for you to see us play,” Orsulak-Finley said. She looked at my plate. What happened to your sandwich? Her voice sounded garbled and distant and then suddenly deep and fiendish. I got real confused for a very long period of time. There was a sort of haze that seemed to cover everything. After that, I remember some sort of windowless vehicle racing towards some vast unknown. Tommy was next to me– he was hole-punching mysterious papers into a binder and each time we hit a bump, he vomited a little. I closed my eyes.

Then, I was in the club. There were a couple of guys on stage that were bouncing an oversized colored child’s ball back and forth. The crowd seemed to really be enjoying it. They tried to leave the stage once, then twice but were called back on for encores. So, they bounced the ball back and forth again. Someone put a can of something in my hand– no label was apparent– it was a plain white can. “DRINK THIS,” they said. I drank.

Then, The Winds Through the Barley came on. All girl group, as advertised. And although I can remember little of the music, I can say that I was transported to some sort of limitless green plain which, at first, appeared to be bereft of man, of structure, of, in fact, anything marking it to be of our world. I walked forward and the horizon moved further away. I turned around and there was no horizon. You must move forward a voice said.

And then I was back in my overheated shitbox of an apartment above the knives and puzzles shop.

A vinyl copy of The Winds Through the Barley’s album was sitting on the floor, propped up against a stack of puzzles that I had yanked out of the dumpster one night.

I looked out the window. A delicate blue light was issuing forth from Paladin Pizza on the corner. I watched as it became stronger and then enveloped me.

Come get a steak sub sandwich said the voice. It was the voice from the chasm. Mushrooms are fungus. Steak sandwiches are delicious it said.

I floated towards it.

Everything that happened after my arrival will be part of an entirely different sort of story. A story that cannot be printed here.

Zachary Keebaugh is currently on sabbatical.

Third Volume of Keebaugh Memoirs to be Released Tomorrow

June 20, 2016 Leave a comment
A Buck Igloos Health Watch

By Buck Igloos

The third volume of Lankville Daily News correspondent Zach Keebaugh’s memoirs will be released tomorrow, sources are confirming.

My Tussle: Book Three: The Spleen of My Heart, a 1,216-page tome covering “Keebaugh’s early high school years” has gotten rave reviews.

“Keebaugh’s third volume is pure raw testimony of youth, it aches with intimacy,” said literary critic Bernard Varrone, Jr. “When Keebaugh writes– “yo, I wanted to pounce on that shit like a hillbilly on a rolling melon” the reader can relate to that in a profound and personal way.”

Keebaugh by the pool.

Keebaugh by the pool.

Keebaugh says that My Tussle: Book Three: The Spleen of My Heart will cover his life from grade 9 to the early part of grade 10.

“Yo, it’s taken me a little longer to drop this one on the public because it was a deeply mysterious point in My Struggle and I had to really wrestle with it, do some personal reflecting by some pools and all, just to get this bad boy down.”

“The book begins with a 150-page rumination on how they made me take 9th grade social studies in this shitty trailer they pulled up on the high school campus. Yo, that was a stone-cold slap in the face and I remember opening the squeaky door to that trailer and the squeak was like somebody saying this is the end of your childhood Keebaugh. It was brutal.”

Keebaugh is already working on volume four.

“The original plan was to drop a tetraology. A big old fuckin’ tet, man. But realistically, this could end up being six or seven volumes, man. Shit, I blew through 1,200 pages on Grade 9 alone.”

My Tussle: Book Three: The Spleen of My Heart has already sold several thousand advance copies and will be available at most Lankville bookshops.

Is it Safe to Eat Snow? A Zach Keebaugh Investigation

March 8, 2016 Leave a comment
Zach Keebaugh

By Zach Keebaugh

So, I was hanging around the knives and puzzles shop the other day and some bozo was talking about making snow ice cream. Apparently, you collect the shit in a bowl, drop some eggs, cream, and sugar on top and BOOM– you got yourself a bowl of tightwad dessert.

But is it safe? I aimed to find out.

I am Zach Keebaugh, Investigative Reporter.

I asked Bill Honks, chemist at the Yarny Woods Area University what would happen if we were to package snow and put it on grocery store shelves– what would we have to put on the ingredient list?

“Primarily water,” he said, “but also “various and sundry things depending on where it comes from.”

“Yo, let’s dispense with the fancy pants cap and gown crap,” I said. “What else?”

“Well, Zach, depending on what part of Lankville we’re talking about, there could be things like sulfates, nitrates, old electronic parts, or mercury. There are a number of variables.”

“It is safe?” I probed. This glorified pharmacist was dodging me– I could tell.Keebaugh Logo

“In moderation, Zach. I mean, I wouldn’t be going outside eating snow all day but in moderation…”

“Yo, that’s my plan, man. All snow diet, scientist. I’m gonna’ be wolfing that fucking snow like a nun sweats in a cucumber patch, chump.”

He seemed confused and went back to his little bullshit pipettes or whatever. I knew there was more to the story.

So I rented a car and drove over to the Eastern Peninsula Area. Arranged a little chit chat with my boy Elliatt Conroy, a researcher who studies water resources and climate change at Peninsula Poorer College.

“Zach, it’s better to wait until a few hours into the snowfall to gather up your snow. Remember, snow acts like a kind of atmospheric “scrub brush”, if you will. The longer the snow falls, the lower the pollution levels in the air, and thus in the snow.”

“Yo, that’s not what this Honks guy was telling me. He was laying down a real dodge, man.”

“Well, Zach, I can’t imagine why. The one thing I would note is that you should be extra vigilant if the snowfall is accompanied by wind. Remember, when snow falls to within a few meters of the ground, it gets mixed with soil that’s blowing around. Whether that makes the snow unsafe to eat depends entirely on what’s in the soil.”

“What if it’s snowing and there’s also a tornado?” I probed. “One of those grim motherfuckers that comes out of the plains, throwing meteorological shade all over the god damn place?”

“Well, I suppose that would be an example of when it might be unsafe to eat snow, Zach.”

I nodded knowingly.

So, there you have it Lankville– scientific proof up the asshole. But if you want to know this reporter’s opinion– don’t be a piker, standing around trying to catch snow in some bowl your mama gave you. Just go buy some ice cream, yo!

Second Volume of Keebaugh Memoirs to Be Released Tomorrow

February 2, 2016 Leave a comment
By Otis Nixon

By Otis Nixon

The second volume of Lankville Daily News correspondent Zach Keebaugh’s memoirs will be released tomorrow, sources are confirming.

My Tussle: Book Two: A Boy in Love, a 1,413-page tome covering “Keebaugh’s middle school years” has gotten rave reviews.

“Keebaugh’s second volume is a monument to the rapture and intoxication of young love,” said literary critic Bernard Varrone, Jr. “When he writes– “yo, love is like the miracle of cool rivers and shit-vast forests” the reader can relate to that in a profound and personal way.”

Keebaugh says that My Tussle: Book Two: A Boy in Love will cover his life from grades 6-8.

Keebaugh, author of "My Tussle".

Keebaugh, author of “My Tussle”.

“Yo, the book begins with a 100-page reflection on my rejection at the hands of this ginger chick Nicole Wilderson and ends with me and Michelle Farley in a swimming pool at the end of my eighth grade summer,” the writer noted. “What a night that was but another pivotal moment in my struggle.”

Keebaugh is already working on volume three.

“The original plan was to drop a tetraology. A big old fuckin’ tet, man. But now, I’m thinking that this bad boy could end up being six or seven volumes, man. Shit, I’m only at the end of the eighth grade.”

My Tussle: Book Two: A Boy in Love has already sold several thousand advance copies and will be available at most Lankville bookshops.

First Volume of Keebaugh Memoirs to Be Released Tomorrow

January 31, 2016 Leave a comment
By Otis Nixon

By Otis Nixon

The first volume of Lankville Daily News correspondent Zach Keebaugh’s memoirs will be released tomorrow, sources are confirming.

My Tussle, a 1,284-page tome covering “Keebaugh’s early years” has gotten rave reviews.

Keebaugh, author of "My Tussle".

Keebaugh, author of “My Tussle”.

“Keebaugh plays a sort of literary hopscotch with time, space and mood,” said literary critic Bernard Varrone, Jr. “I appreciate the way in which [Keebaugh] is not like other Lankville writers. There is nothing cute and bouncy about him. We’re just seeing too much of that cute and bouncy sort of thing these days. Either that, or terrorist attack novels.”

Keebaugh says that My Tussle will cover the period of his birth up until 6th grade.

“Yo, the book ends when I told this ginger chick Nicole Wilderson that I liked her and she shot me down like an old dog,” the writer noted. “Pivotal moment in my struggle.”

Keebaugh is already working on volume two.

“The plan is to drop a tetraology, yo. Couple of interconnected deuces  storming the ol’ literary canyon if you know what I’m saying.”

My Tussle has already sold several thousand advance copies and will be available at most Lankville bookshops.

News in Brief

December 14, 2015 Leave a comment
By Brock Belvedere

By Brock Belvedere


Zach Keebaugh

Zach Keebaugh got a medallion.

Lankville Daily News columnist Zach Keebaugh received a shimmering medallion last night for his work in the field of investigative reporting. Keebaugh was one of three recipients.

“Yo, it’s good to get out, socialize, get this god damn medallion,” the journalist noted. “I spend an awful lot of time in that overheated hell of an apartment over the knives and puzzles shop, just doing nothing, man. Just sitting around with one of those little plastic games, man. You know, where you got to guide the marble through the maze. God, what a shit show. Who knows, might meet some ladies here, take one of them home, you never can tell, man.”

Keebaugh did not take any ladies home, sources later confirmed.


A glimpse at the message inside the Samways and Fick Annual Holiday Card.

A glimpse at the message inside the Samways and Fick Annual Holiday Card.

Samways and Fick, Lankville’s most prestigious consulting firm, issued its annual holiday card today after much anticipation.

“I wrote the interior message myself,” Samways, who was wearing a giant foam jacket, noted. “I think it’s really beautiful and conveys to our clients how much we love them, how much we grow with them and they with us.”

The foam jacket suddenly began to expand and Samways ended the interview prematurely.

Only 300 holiday cards were issued.

“Your business should consider itself very, very lucky to get a Samways and Fick card,” said Barlow Foods CEO John Barlow. “It means that you are at the pinnacle of commerce in Lankville. We, of course, get one every year.”

Samways and Fick has been helping you reach the area near the top of your mountain since last year.


A series of exciting small motel girl wrestling matches were held last night at the El Patio Motel (Room 14) in Capitol City.

Tandy McLemore (14-3) defeated newcomer Peachy Lynn the Bomber (0-1) in the headliner.

“Peachy Lynn tried cornering Tandy between the two double beds,” noted commentator Dick Oakes, Jr. “That’s a real rookie mistake and she paid for it. The area between the double beds is an absolute no-man’s land in small motel girl wrestling.”

McLemore is set to take on The Fabulous Lass (13-2) in January.

Is Online Dating Safe? A Zach Keebaugh Investigation

December 2, 2015 Leave a comment

Zach Keebaugh

Yo, there’s about a million online dating sites these days for single Lankvillians to pick from– Companions, Fair Enough Cupid, The Bump, The Pumpkin Patch, Smackers, and Sunshine, GO! are just a few of the more popular platforms. With tens of thousands of eligible ladies online, you’d think a guy could do pretty good for himself, could ratchet up some serious clean and jerk skills, if you know what I’m saying. But is online dating safe? I aimed to find out. I am Zach Keebaugh, Investigative Reporter.

First thing I did was go undercover. Some real cloak and dagger shit, dog. Made up a bunch of fake names and used my cousin Steve’s picture for my ad– Steve’s got a face like a cherub but there’s an element of danger in his eyes– the ladies eat that fucking crap up.

Within minutes, I got several replies– even got a picture of some girl half-wrapped in a blanket on a couch flashing nothing but bare ass out the back. So, I sent her a message– “that blanket is rad, girlfriend” followed by a couple of those shiny cat stickers and a smiley face. She wrote back pretty quickly:

I’m an assertive woman with a sweet, “accommodating” boyfriend, and I’m very interested in finding someone(s) to hang out with, while he’s made to follow a few steps behind.

She invited me to meet her (and her boyfriend) at an abandoned airplane hangar in the Lankville Outlands. “He’ll be dressed as a dragon,” she wrote. “You’ll see him instantly. But you’ll have to find me!”  The whole affair sounded pretty killer but was it safe? Before I said yes, I figured on making a call to Berenice Bruno, of the Lankville Online Safety Steering Committee.Keebaugh Logo

“You should always meet someone for the first time in a public place, Zach,” said Bruno. “You should never, under any circumstances, meet a woman for the first time in her home or in a location that is abandoned or derelict.”

“Why?” I probed. “Plenty of open space in an airplane hangar. What’s the worst that could really happen? Besides, this is prime time shit, this is. Dude’s gonna’ be dressed as a fucking dragon.”

“All the more reason to be doubtful, Zach. Your first date with someone you meet online should be one-on-one. And you should always be leery of anyone dressed in a costume. That’s a real red flag right there, Zach.”

I let it ride a minute. Then I went in for the probe.  “Is online dating safe?”

“Under certain circumstances, of course.”

“What about inter-investigation dating? You got a ruling in your little book there on that one?”

Bruno blushed and I figured on pursuing that lead a little later.

I decided to take her advice. I switched up my profile a bit, hoping to get a little classier action. I still couldn’t use my own photograph (I’m a pretty big deal around Lankville these days– can’t even walk down the street without some clown pulling up and asking me to investigate some dogshit cause), so instead I used a pic of my homeboy Brian Schropp.  I was banking on Brian’s sweet and tender nature luring the ladies in like a hermit to a cave.

Unfortunately, I didn’t think about Schropp being a celebrity too. So, I ended up getting nothing but requests from fat girls who wanted discounted pizza or some review of their bullshit new cupcake kiosk. But for the sake of the investigation, I asked one out.

Her name was Vancette and we met up in the Red Room of the Casa Montecristo (an elegant reception hall). I saw her first and let me just say, she was selling it everywhere. I sidled up to her at the bar.

“Who are you?”

“Yeah, listen, I’m zach132 from Companions. Sorry about the fake photo.”

“So…you’re not…Brian Schropp?”

“Nope. I’m all Keebaugh.” I threw open the sports jacket I had borrowed from my cousin for effect.

She seemed real disappointed. “I was really hoping you’d be Brian Schropp. I’ve always wanted to meet Brian Schropp. Have you read his wonderful reviews? He has such a refined palette. Such a sweet and tender soul. It’s going to be a lucky gal that ends up…”

I cut her off. “Listen, why don’t we get a table. After all, meat is the special tonight.”

“I don’t think so. I feel…well…disappointed and lied to.” Then, she suddenly hit me in the face with her purse. It was just like a movie– everybody stared and DJ Humphrey stopped spinning for a minute.

Later on, I called up Berenice Bruno and told her what happened.

“Well, that’s another thing about online dating, Zach. You need to be honest, forthright. It’s only fair.”

“Is online dating safe?” I probed, suddenly.

She sighed but we kept chatting on awhile after that.


So there you have it, yo,  quick and easy safety tips for the first date meeting from an online connection. That shit is delivered.

Are Offices Safe? A Zach Keebaugh Investigation

November 5, 2015 Leave a comment
Zach Keebaugh

Zach Keebaugh

Yo, any half-bred dipshit realizes that safety and health hazards can exist on worksites filled with heavy machinery, guns and equipment– where employees often are required to engage in strenuous manual labor. A dude would have to be walking around in a snow globe of shit flurries not to grab the cake on that one.

But what about a job where most of the work tasks are completed while sitting in a chair in a climate-controlled office building? Seems less fraught with danger, right? However, I’ve seen it asserted that a surprising number of hazards are present in an office setting. I aimed to find out the truth on that. I am Zach Keebaugh– Investigative Reporter.

First, I went down to the library (the one I was going to had been bulldozed and replaced by a mall, so I huffed another 15 miles to the next one) and checked out the stats. According to data from the Lankville Bureau of Labor Mutilations, 19,480,410 private-industry office and administrative workers suffered on-the-job injuries in 2014. Many of these injuries could have been prevented had workers or supervisors recognized the risks and implemented simple workplace modifications to help mitigate them. I had my lead.

So next, I huffed it down to the National Pondicherry Safety Council and met up with Dr. Jeenie Paquette. Jeenie and I got along right off the bat and, I’ll admit, I was pushing pretty hard to the net. But then I got down to business with the good doctor.Keebaugh Logo

“So WHAT THE FUCK, doc. How can we get rid of all these hazards and raise employee awareness?

“Well, Zach, I’ve split up common office safety problems into a series of three categories.”

“You can do whatever you want, mama,” I purred.

“Right…well, Zach, the first major category are “office falls.”

Dr. Paquette says that last year alone, Lankville office works fell 3,987,412 times.

“The best thing to do is stay clutter-free. Keep boxes, buckets, wagons, papers, etc. out of the way and maintain a clear line of vision throughout the office. And if you have to reach up, use a safety step stool. We see all kinds of office workers trying to cut corners by stacking chairs together or ripping out the divider stalls in the bathroom and using them as ladders. That’s a no-no. Every office should have at least one working step stool.”

“What about just taking a full garbage can and stepping in that?” I probed. “Now, what the hell can be wrong with that?”

“No, Zach. Garbage tends to collapse when you step on it.”

Don't end up like these King Hill fuckheads. Make your office safe, yo!

Don’t end up like these King Hill fuckheads. Make your office safe, yo!

“I didn’t know that. You’re good.” I flashed her some pearlies. “What’s next, doc?”

Turns out, the next most common office mishap is getting struck by an object or beheaded. According to the digits, Lankville office workers were struck 5,277,314 times in 2014 and 7854 Lankvillians were beheaded.

“You want to avoid objects swinging from the ceiling, especially decorative seasonal objects,” Paquette asserted. We had an office recently that hung actual 30-pound pumpkins from the drop ceiling. A lot of people were killed.”

“Sounds like a bunch of assholes. Hanging pumpkins from a drop ceiling. That shit’s bush league, man. What else you got? We’re not even gonna’ go into stupid-ass activities like hanging pumpkins from a drop ceiling. Those fuckers are on their own.”

“Well, Zach, our final category is perhaps the most common but the most problematic to address. It’s ergonomic injuries.”

“You talking about those funny chairs that the foreign guys come around selling?”

She seemed confused. “Well, they sell them everywhere, Zach. But ergonomics are not just about chairs. They’re also about keyboard and mouse placement, workstation deficiencies, even the way people sit or put their feet on the floor.”

Dr. Paquette also noted that workstations should be adjustable. “We all have different bodies, Zach. Adjustable means able to accommodate the widest range of employees possible.”

“Fat people?” I probed.

“A…variety of options should be available,” Dr. Paquette responded.

So, BOOM, DELIVERED. A good bunch of options on how to improve workplace safety and put an end to all these injuries and deaths over the last few years. By the way, after the big mouth-party of this interview was over with, Dr. Paquette and I walked down to a Meyer Plantain Hut and wolfed some of those fucked-up banana-looking things.

It was alright.

Political Round-Up with Zach Keebaugh

September 29, 2015 1 comment

Decision 2016

Zach Keebaugh

Zach Keebaugh

Investigative Reporter Zach Keebaugh had a chance to sit down with Presidential candidates Albert Pondicherry, Larry Pendleton, Ric Royer, Amanda Jennifers, Dr. Nickelbee, Stury Teddy and David Hadbawnik this morning in a hospital cafeteria.

ZK: Let’s start with you Pondicherry. Yo, what are you going to do different?
AP: Zach, we have beautiful shores in Lankville. We have the sky overhead. We have the sounds of people loving, kissing and retching and we have the laughter of children.
ZK: You want to jump in here Nickelbee?

President Pondicherry has a new dog!

President Pondicherry

DN(putting his hand on Keebaugh’s knee): Zach, the beautiful shores won’t be beautiful for much longer. That’s why the Green Sanity Union is the only party to back.
ZK: We haven’t heard from Larry Pendleton yet. Larry?
LP: We have a problem in this country. It’s called Islanders. Our current President…
ZK: WHOA…let’s keep the pudding on the table here Larry.
LP: I’ll make the Islanders pay for their deceit…
ZK: Let’s get off this fucking shit. Sturdy Teddy, you wanted to say something?
ST: No. Not really.
DN(butting in): It’s okay for all of us to feel, even Larry Pendleton. But we don’t want to feel without trust. We want to plow by our demons together as a whole country…
AJ: I’m going to build a wall around vice…
DN: …and as we plow through the hideous, ungodly demons…
RR: Did you bring any soda, Zach?
DN: …we will find ourselves face to face with ourselves…
LP: This is the kind of pseudo-intellectual tripe that the Pendleton campaign is against…
(Dr. Nickelbee got up and stormed out of the cafeteria).

Randy Pendleton

Randy Pendleton

ZK: Damn, all. Let’s try to get a handle on this…
RR: Zach, are there any sodas through any of these doors?
ZK: Let’s try to get back to some of the issues. What about The Challenge Problem?
LP: Challenges are all perpetrated by Islanders.
DH: Zach, David Hadbawnik and the Gourd Party are…
PP: I’m not sure that’s entirely true Larry. The Bureau of Probes has data…
LP: The Bureau of Probes is an organization funded by taxpayer money. We all know that the Bureau does nothing but take lavish airplane trips and buy fancy calculators…
ZK: Yo, this fucking shit is going nowhere fast. Sturdy Teddy?
ST: No…no…nothing Zach.
ZK: David Hadbawnik?
DH: I was just saying that the Gourd Party is the only humane choice here.
ZK: Yo! Your running mate is a gourd, man.
DH: That’s not…
AJ: I’m going to build a wall around filth and pornography.
LP: Then you better build a wall around The Bureau of Probes.
RR: Can you get me my box of soda that you promised Zach?
ZK: Alright, time to wrap up the round-up. Any final words?
Everyone began talking loudly at once and the interviews were ended prematurely.

Latest News About Hell: By Zach Keebaugh

September 15, 2015 Leave a comment

Hell- Latest News

The Lankville Daily News is lusciously delighted beyond measure to present investigative reporter Zach Keebaugh’s column “The Latest News About Hell”.

Zach Keebaugh

By Zach Keebaugh

So, yo, the up-to-the-minute count of places in Lankville that are believed to be possible entrances to Hell now sits at 3. Yeah, I didn’t believe that shit either. But some guys and some nice-looking college students convinced me. They showed me some websites, some stuff on and a couple of books that were lying around. The question, of course, is do you believe in any of this fucking crap? Well, I aimed to find out. I aimed to find out the latest news about Hell. I am Zach Keebaugh, Hell Investigator.

So, the first place was a fenced-in copse off Route 71. We all know about Route 71.

I met Sheriff Bill Tetts. He handed me a coffee. “You’re gonna’ need this Zach,” he said. So, I was like, “C’mon Tetts. What the fuck is this about? You got the entrance to hell over here?”

“Zach,” he said, in his inimitable Route 71 drawl. “If there be a hell, then here it is.”

“If there be a hell?” I queried. “You gettin’ all eloquent on me Tetts? Let’s see this hell entrance.”

He led me into the copse. I’ll admit, things got a little weird. It got dark fast. The sky above (where it could even be glimpsed) was a flamboyant orange. I suddenly began speaking like Tetts. “That be a weird sky,” I commented. “This be a supernal copse.” I couldn’t control myself. I don’t know what the hell was up.

Tetts led me over to a steaming crater. “The mouth of this infernal caldera is an abomination to all humankind,” said Tetts. His sipped his coffee and looked at his cell phone.

The Hell-Mouth of Route 71.

The Hell-Mouth of Route 71.

I steadied myself and stared into the abyss. It was then that I realized what a mound of horseshit the whole thing was.

“Hey, Tetts,” I said. “Souls are incorporeal, man. Hell has no need of physical mouths. Get out of here with this mind fuck, man.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that and I struck place number one off the list.

So, I took a bus down to the Warm Peninsula Regions. There, I met local historian Wilma Sheets. Wilma was a little older than me but, good Christ, she was rocking her jeans pantsuit.

Course, we were standing around a pile of god damn rocks and a weedy area. I guess there’s some guys that can make a little romance out of a pile of rocks and a weedy area but I sure wasn’t coming up with anything.

“So, Wilma, what’s up with this pile of rocks, girl?”

“Well, Zach, it sure doesn’t look like much but many ancient Lankville historians have indicated that this was once the seven gates of Hell. It was said that if you passed through all seven gates, you would land straight in Hell.”

“I only see one gate,” I said, pointing out an old chain-link fence that was pretty much sans chain-link. “Yo, what’s up?”

“Well, the other six gates are invisible during the day, Zach,” she shot back.

I stared at her for a long time. I smelled bullshit, sure. And I was a little peeved that I had ridden the hump on that shitbus all the way down here. But that pantsuit was really nice, really a good fit. You don’t see that sort of thing too often when you’re standing outside.

The Seven Gates of Hell.

The Seven Gates of Hell.

“Are the invisible gates over in that weedy field?” I asked.

“I think so, Zach. These giant stone blocks, these were part of an insane asylum. Hell’s insane asylum, the legend goes. Can you imagine the sort of patients that would be in hell’s insane asylum?”

She shuddered. I was quick to give her a comforting hug. The jeans pantsuit was nice, man,  I was digging it. But I knew I could check this Seven Gates of Hell nonsense off my list too.

A few days later, I took the bus out of the Warm Peninsula Regions and up to the Snowy Lake Area. That’s where the alleged third entrance to hell is located– at the infamous “Cave of Sibyl”.

Glenn O. Cox is the curator of the cave, which is just a little stone mound that you enter through a ragged doorway and which, after a couple of stairs, drops down several hundred feet into fire. They have a little sign there (in a couple different languages) warning visitors but still, thousands of dumb shits fall to their deaths every year.

“So, Glenn O. baby, you think this is the true entrance to hell, huh?” I was a little worn out– hadn’t slept in days. And I wasn’t buying the claims of this sad little stone asscave.

“Yes, Zach. According to legend, the sibyl emerges at the surface each night and leads the damned to the underworld.”

I just looked at him.

The Cave of Sibyl.

The Cave of Sibyl.

“Yes, Zach, also we have evidence that birds flying over the lake have died due to the toxic fumes the cave emits. It is, indeed, a deadly portal.”

I still had nothing to say. Glenn O. was getting a little antsy.

“And also Zach, there have been many ancient Lankvillian kings who have offered condemned prisoners the chance for freedom if they would allow themselves to be lowered into the Cave of Sibyl and report what they saw below. And in every case, the prisoner chose death over the cave!”

“Yeah? Fuck this cave, man.” I was irritable, I admit it. It was uncalled for. Let’s just say I got worn pretty ragged down in the Warm Peninsula Regions.

Glenn O. was shocked. “Oh, Zach, that…don’t say that…” He began praying, making some kind of weird sign with his stubby little hands.

“I’m packing it in, Glenn O. baby,” I said. Later, I wrote him a letter of apology.

So, man, do what you want with these three claims. That’s the takeaway here. This reporter? This reporter isn’t buying any of it. And that’s the investigation– the latest news about hell.

Zach Keebaugh won a trophy for this report.

Are Garden Hoses Safe? A Zach Keebaugh Investigation

August 24, 2015 Leave a comment

Keebaugh Logo

Zach Keebaugh

Zach Keebaugh

Scenario: you’re out watering your backyard garden. The sun starts to beat down. That ribbed, poly/cotton blend tank is starting to feel like an oven, you’re thirsty, irritable, maybe even angry. And right in front of you, man– cool water flowing out of your hose like some sort of heavenly mountain stream. It’s right there for the taking. Why not stoop down and make it yours? Pump that shit into your mouth and quench that insatiable thirst? Yo, why the hell shouldn’t you, man?

Because many experts are now saying that it is unsafe to drink from a garden hose, that’s why. They say that hoses can be made of dangerous chemicals like lead and some weird-ass chlorides that can fuck you up eight ways to Sunday. You could end up sterile, impotent, unable to talk much or even dead.

But is it true? I aimed to find out. I am Zach Keebaugh: Investigative Reporter.

First, I spoke to Lankville Tubing Safety Department official Les Tights.

“Yo, man. I drink from hoses all the time. What’s up?”

Looks nice but what the hell? Is it safe?

Looks nice but what the hell? Is it safe?

“Well, Zach, lead from the hoses can often leach into the water supply, causing all sorts of problems with birth defects, dying, sterility, impotence and general sexual disinterest. And while notice of this is now required on all packaging for commercial hoses, we all know that generally people tear off the packaging quickly, as they, of course, are quite excited about owning a new hose. Our research indicates that most packaging doesn’t even make it home. Most people tear it straight off in their cars, sometimes even immediately after purchasing while they’re still in line at the hardware store. So, basically, the warnings don’t get read.”

“Sure, sure. But let’s get back to the meat here, man. You telling me that a guy drinks from a hose and then, BAM, the next morning he ain’t pitching tent?”

Tights grew confused. I grew skeptical.

So, I visited a couple of hose salesmen. First off, the traditional ol’ green standby at my local Home Dump. Just as Tights mentioned, I saw the tiny warning label on the packaging. I questioned an employee who asked to remain anonymous (we’ll call her Gail Throneberry). Turns out Gail and I hit it off pretty good. She invited me out back of the Home Dump to watch her drink some beers.

“Hey Gail- man, what about these hoses?” I probed.

“Oh, right. Listen baby, these expand, like out to certain distances. I forget. Shit.” She took another pull on the beer. I had a soda that Gail pinched for me from the employee freezer.

“Are they safe?”

“What? Sure, sure. These…we got medium duty and heavy duty, you know, according to expected use. What do you expect to use these for, Zach, baby? You got yourself some seeds baby? Want Mama to water ’em for you?”

Traditional hose salesman Gail Throneberry.

Traditional hose salesman Gail Throneberry.

Throneberry collapsed into some empty cardboard boxes. But I had my answer.

Next, I consulted with organic hose dealer Ray Sunshine, who operated a garden supply center near Pineapple City. He showed me all the different lead-free hose options.

“All of our hoses meet LSF standards, are lead-free, recycled and resist kinking. These are the best hoses you can buy in Lankville, Zach.”

“But are they safe?” I probed.

“Absolutely. We stand behind them.”

“Let me give you a scenario, Ray. I’m watering a bunch of bullshit in the backyard. I start to get hot and sweaty. I take my shirt off but I’m still hot. I’m getting sunburned. I feel like hell. I’m hungry. I’m depressed. Maybe a little bit horny. Feel like a drink of water might help. I’m looking at the water coming out of one of your organic hoses. So, yo, man! Can I drink that water?”

“Absolutely. You can feel 100% safe in drinking water from our hoses.”

I was convinced. Even picked up two hoses despite the fact that I got no backyard and live in a shitbox of an apartment above the knives and puzzles shop.

So, here’s your conclusion readers. Pick up a hose with LDA-approved materials and that are clearly labeled “drink safe”. Make sure you read the label before you buy (I know, I know, everyone gets excited as all shit over a new hose but be patient). Taking that little extra time could ultimately safe your life.

Or, here’s another option. Drink from the god damn sink, yo. Don’t be a baboon.

This has been a Zach Keebaugh Investigative Report

Is it Safe to Change a Tire? A Zach Keebaugh Investigation

August 10, 2015 1 comment
Zachary Keebaugh

Zachary Keebaugh

You don’t need to save somebody’s life to be a hero. Maybe you just save their day.

Consider the inevitable flat tire.

Whether you’re traveling to school, work, or that weird summer camp your Mom sent you to that served nothing but unflavored macaroni and then told your Mom that you were a liar when you spilled the beans, it’s bound to happen eventually. That makes knowing how to change a tire– either your own or one belonging to an attractive female in need– an essential life skill.

But is it safe?

I aimed to find out. I am Zach Keebaugh: Investigative Reporter.

Bot Woolston has been changing tires on the Western Lankville Plains for 30 years. He claims that changing a tire is perfectly safe.

“You just need to make sure you chock the tire that is directly opposite the flat tire by putting some bricks or logs or some heavy object in front of it.”

“Yo, what’s chock mean?” I probed.

There's really no need to put out a fucking triangle like those asshole but you should still use caution when changing a tire.

There’s really no need to put out a fucking triangle like this asshole but you should still use caution when changing a tire.

“It’s mechanic-talk for stabilize. This is the main thing that people forget and is responsible for all those deaths that everyone’s all up in arms about.”

“Man, who the hell carries bricks or logs around in their car? You’re not fooling anybody, old man.”

“Changing a tire is so simple, Zach. There is absolutely no need why anyone, even children, should not know how to do it.”

“Let’s switch gears,” I proffered. “In your opinion, what causes flat tires?”

“Nails and broken glass primarily. Other things include animals, teeth and hard food.”

“Is it safe to change a tire?” I probed.

Woolston sighed and went back into his office.

Amanda Fleckensbrother is President of the C.F.H. (Call for Help) Foundation. “We advocate always calling an expert to have a tire changed,” she said, as we walked slowly near a wooded area. “Too many people have lost their lives trying to pry off a wheel cover or due to improper placement of the jack. The safest thing to do is contact a trained technician.”

“Yeah, but who wants to stand around like an asshole waiting for some fat guy in a grey jumpsuit to show up? Why not do it yourself? Yo, when I was in the Child Scouts we had to jack up this old orange boat they had sitting around and swap out a tire to get a Merit badge. And I crushed that challenge man, I got that badge.”

“At the very least, C.F.H. is an advocate for clearer markings on automobiles showing individuals where they put the jack, where the spare tire is, etc. So far, the automotive industry has ignored us,” Fleckensbrother countered.

“Is it safe to change a tire?” I probed.

Fleckensbrother paused. “No, it isn’t,” she finally said.

I nodded confidently and we moved ever closer to the edge of the dew-draped woods.

Neptune CEO

Neptune CEO Arick Schlesinger

We then proposed Fleckensbrother’s ideas to Neptune Automotive Corporation CEO Arick Schlesinger.

“Yo, what about these markings and shit?”

“We’ve heard Mrs. Freckenships [sic] ideas and we know all about the C.F.H.,” Schlesinger replied. “But it’s not economically viable for us to implement any of these suggestions. And in terms of the location of jacks and spare tires, that seems like common sense to me, Zach. And even if you don’t know where they are, it is clearly outlined in every owner’s manual for every vehicle Neptune sells.”

“Is it safe to change a tire?” I probed.

“Of course. The only people I know who can’t change a tire are male buffoons and some women.”

Opinion is hopelessly divided. You can listen to Amanda Fleckensbrother and call one of Lankville’s many roadside assistance companies when the dreaded moment comes or, in this reporter’s opinion, you can pull over, consult the internet and learn how to do it yourself. It’s a skill that everyone should have.

Zach Keebaugh won a medal for this report.

Ice Cream or Frozen Yogurt: A Zach Keebaugh Investigation

July 29, 2015 Leave a comment
Zachary Keebaugh

Zachary Keebaugh

Few things slam sweltering heat in the ass like a creamy cone on a hot summer day. Should you go for a double scoop of that minty chocolate chip or should you opt for the healthier-sounding “frozen yogurt”? Market research shows that frozen yogurt sales in Lankville have risen considerably every year since 2005 while the number of yogurt shops, kiosks, and boxes have doubled. And if you think frozen yogurt is healthier, you’re not alone– roughly 95% of the girls I interviewed toweling off at the pool believe that the softer shit is better for them than ice cream.

But is frozen yogurt healthier? I aimed to find out. I am Zach Keebaugh, Investigative Reporter.

“A lot of people, when they hear the word “yogurt” think of, you know, the other kind of yogurt,” said Petette Ramsey, a spokesperson for the Lankville Academy of Nutrition, Dietetics and Drinks. “But the freezing process used to make frozen yogurt tends to kill off some of the probiotics and other gut-healthy bacteria and leave your dessert essentially lifeless– just empty calories.”

“Why?” I probed.

“Why what?” Ramsey asked.

“Why do you think that?” I probed again.

Looks good, but is it crap?

Looks good, but is it crap?

“It’s not about what I think, it’s about what’s proven to be the case in laboratory tests. The best thing to do is look for the seal that yogurt shops, kiosks and boxes will display if they add nutrients. It’s a big green shield and it says “Live and Active Cultures.”

“Yo, where’s that shield?” I probed.

“Usually on the door of the establishment or perhaps on the frozen yogurt machines themselves. If it’s not displayed, you can inquire at the counter or at the box.”

“Yo, have you seen the fuck-ups that work at frozen yogurt joints? They’re not gonna’ know jack shit about shields.”

She didn’t know what to say and I had already probed enough so I let off.


Turns out, probiotics alone don’t make fro-yo a health food. “People don’t realize that it often has more sugar than ice cream,” said West Lankville High Hills Area nutritionist Lisa Sand-Dompster as we walked together slowly by a lake.”Each half-cup of frozen yogurt has about 17 grams…”

I cut her off.

“I don’t want to get into complicated numbers here. Let’s stick to the facts.”

“Well, I was going to say that frozen yogurt has 17 grams of sugar while…”

“Let’s keep it simple. If I plop a couple of fist-size scoops of frozen yogurt down in a plastic container that used to contain lunch meat, and go to town on it, what the hell is going to happen?”

“Perhaps nothing for you but for individuals with conditions…”

“I ain’t no spastic,” I pointed out.

We walked around the lake in silence after that.


Whether you love ice cream or you’re all up into that frozen yogurt shit, there’s no wrong choice as long as you keep your serving sizes in check. “Your best bet really is a dessert that will satisfy your taste buds so that you won’t go back for seconds or scrounge around for other snacks later,” noted Sand-Dompster. Experts recommend seeking out products that have real ingredients rather than that crap with the laundry list of preservatives, thickening agents, and old oil.

And for a DIY fix, Sand-Dompster suggests making your own creamy dessert from a bunch of bananas or some shit and a blender and milk.

“What if you don’t have a blender?” I probed.

“You can mash the ingredients up using other kitchen tools,” she offered.

“I’d have to borrow all that fucking shit. I’ll just go out.”


So, the next time you need a creamy dessert, think twice and eat responsibly!

Zach Keebaugh got a little medal for this report.

%d bloggers like this: