|
|
News stories from March (part II) Feb. & March (part I) |
April |
May |
June |
July |
August |
September
October | November | December | Home Kite fly turns into sauerkraut sling March 15, 2000 Cat powered DeSoto sparks seniors riot March 15, 2000 School class spring goat sacrifice halted by authorities March 22, 2000 State sewage official knocked out by odor March 22, 2000 Beach party in Stray U gym lands faculty in hot water March 29, 2000 New life form parties in sewage lagoon March 29, 2000 The Stray Lake Civic Club's Kite Fly and Sauerkraut Cookoff got off to a fine start last week, but then the wind shifted and the fumes from the sewer plant began to eat away the fabric on the kites and interfere with the kraut judges' sense of smell. Club members brought in a giant fan to shift the wind back again, which worked pretty well until the counterbreeze started to pick up the kraut. By the time the fan was unplugged the stuff had been spread over most of downtown and out as far as the parking lot at the Tipple Time. "We've got insurance that should cover the cost of repainting all the cars and buildings," club president Bethelina Tutter said. "But I understand the busload of gambling tourists that were unloading for lunch at the Tipple Time is planning to sue for mental anguish and I'm not sure we have that covered. But then again, how much anguish can blowing sauerkraut cause a person? Oodles, according to Attorney Bumbles Hatrack, who is representing the tourists. "Some of them may never recover," Bumbles said sadly. "Especially the ones that got hit with Iona Moffit's kraut. You know how her entire neighborhood evacuates for a week after she cooks that stuff, so you can imagine what pain and suffering getting smacked with a whole facefull of it could cause. I might retire after this one." The civic club is also on the hook with the town council, since the kraut pretty much blanketed the holding lagoon at the sewer plant and has left it operating at even less of its capacity than usual. Plant superintendent Alvin Skylark says it might be weeks before the kraut works itself through the system and out into Stray Lake, because he is not about to attempt to fish it out. He suggests people try counteracting the odor by not using deodorant or wetting down their dogs and bringing them into the house at night. The barsitters at the Stray Lake Yacht Club were none too happy about the prospect of Iona's kraut filtering into the lake, even in its semi-treated form. "We've got enough nasty stuff eating away at our hulls now," Commodore Horatio Jellico told this reporter over a drink at the club bar. "If we lose any more of the flotilla to bottom rot, this summer's hunt for the scum beast may turn into an exercise in futility." Since every summer's hunt for the scum beast is an exercise in futility, this reporter retreated to the Tippler Time, where the trophies for the aborted Kite Fly were being awarded. Best of Show went this year to Hazel Grouper, whose giant butterfly raised itself to a height of maybe 25 feet before it swooped down into Berkfelter's Hand Laundry then shot up again with about 40 pillowcases and two hand laundresses attached. The laundresses dropped into a pot of kraut (treated and released at Maid of Mercy Recuperation Clinic) but the pillowcases and the kite drifted over the holding lagoon and will supposedly filter into Stray Lake with the rest of the festival's leavings. Most Imaginative Kite design was won by Water Derwalter, who flew his grandmother. Biggest Kite award went to Julius Hutson. He pulled up in a two-trailer semi and the judges awarded him the prize, then begged him not to unload the thing. Good luck he didn't, considering the fallout occasioned by the sewer treatment plant cloud. Highest Flight by a Kite was awarded to Lester Limestone, Jr., who flew over the proceedings in a charter flight from Hangover Field trailing his entry, a pretty risque thing that sported a lifelike rendering of a CanCan girl ascending the Matterhorn. Earlier, following lunch of what little kraut hadn't been blown off, served with chocolate cake and iced tea spiked with gin by the Stray Lake High senior class, the civic club held its election of officers. There being no one who wanted to run, the current slate of incompetents was reelected by default and everyone began shoveling kraut off the streets. Dudley Graingefelt's attempt to get around the high price of gasoline ran into a snag last week when the 32 stray cats he had collected to power a treadmill in the trunk of his DeSoto escaped as Dud drove past the Friday fish fry at the Crestview Senior Center. "I didn't know old people could run that fast," Dud said. "They chased me for six blocks, waving their forks and pitching those little cups of tartar sauce at me. If the weather report hadn't been on when we passed Fuzzy's TV & Other Broken Appliances, they might still be after me." Dud, who remained in hiding when this reporter spoke to him, said he had only intended to check on his cat population when he stopped to open the door of the treadmill cage in front of the senior center. Seems one of his cat-power had looked a little plump when he tossed her in with the rest, and he was wondering if she had delivered a litter that could give him a little more mileage. "They smelled those fish - you know how gamy those fish the seniors get through the Caught Last Week and We Didn't Sell 'Em program are - and next thing I knew, I felt like I was standing in front of the charge at the Oklahoma Land Rush. By the time I picked myself up and turned around, the cats ran over me again, then here came those old people with the forks and the tartar sauce. I tell you, it was traumatic." Helen Litridon, organizer of the Friday fish fries, said she felt the whole incident had been blown out of proportion. "What do we have here?" she asked. "Stampeding cats, stampeding seniors with forks and tartar sauce, and a citizen in hiding because he fears for his life? You tell me, where's the story? Where's the harm done?" The Stray Lake Society for the Fairly Decent Treatment of Animals and Blood Relatives Who Are Bunking With You thought there was a lot harm, especially to Dud, who lives with his in-laws. "This man should be hailed as the Thomas Alvina Edison of Stray Lake," society president pro-tem Harvey Ginhaler said at a press conference last Tuesday or Thursday. "Without his genius, we might never know that stray cats could run a DeSoto. This is a moment in science that will surely be compared to the discovery of the apple that fell on Isaac Einstein's head. Or something relatively close." Dud said he expected to come out of hiding next week (he is staying with Signal-Gazette printer Shaugnesy O'Toole). Most of the strays seem to have been adopted by the residents of the senior center. And Helen has announced that this Friday's fish fry will feature war-surplus hamburgers. School class spring goat sacrifice halted by authorities By Wilma Whipstittle Signal-Gazette Staff Writer The Stray Lake Elementary third grade class that tried to sacrifice a goat in the Town Square during a field trip on the first day of spring had simply misunderstood the previous week's enrichment program, according to teacher Thelma Intwit. "It won't happen again," she said, "because I'll never do another lesson about animal sacrifice. Also, I doubt I'll ever get permission for another field trip." The day had been planned as an excursion to the Daisy Grumwald Goat Farm and Candy Factory, where the children were to pet goats and get candy samples, not necessarily in that order. There was also to be a stop on the way home at the square for Mayor Leroy Wertzbrimmer to explain municipal government (the less said about his ability to do that the better). The goat farm part of the trip was apparently uneventful, with goats and candy samples being a big hit. It was not until the bus started back to town that Thelma and driver Bebee Hatwalker noticed an odor that was unusually gamy even for third graders. Thelma's investigation found one of Daisy's goats among the rear seats. By this time, Bebee was pulling up at the square where the mayor was waiting with a handful of his own candy samples and a big box of "Reelect Wertzbrimmer" buttons. When the kids at the front of the bus saw the candy, they forced their way through the door and the stampede that followed bowled over Thelma, Bebee, the mayor, and Miss Matilda Chuker, who was passing on her way to the library. The mayor's candy samples were wolfed down before the mayor could pick himself up, and when he did get back his wind and started using it to talk about himself the kids poked him with the pins on his reelection buttons until he fled into the bus and closed the door. The kids jammed the door shut with one of the 2X4s the Hammer Slammers had dropped at the fountain for their useless scaffolding project, then proceeded to paint themselves blue as they chanted a ritual they had learned in enrichment. Bebee used her cell phone to call Stray Lake Elementary Principal Webster Nottaclue, who called Stray County Sheriff Legible Thomas then started for the square. By the time Web arrived, Lej and Town Marshall Carmella Casey were both on the scene and as usual arguing about jurisdiction. The school children were now leading the goat into the fountain, where Wembley Upthuttle pulled a switchblade and allowed as to how this animal's sacrifice would insure a bountiful harvest and probably be pretty messy. Miss Matilda came to, took in the blue children and the sacrificial goat, and hopped into the fountain to join them. As she swabbed herself with blue paint, she explained to the curious youngsters that she had always wanted to participate in ritual sacrifice but was held back by her parents, who were strict Presbyterians. A sizeable crowd was getting itself together, and the mayor was nearly apoplectic at not being able to talk at them, so he slipped out a window, crawled onto the top of the bus, and began to extol what he takes for his virtues. The goat looked up at the mayor, then looked at young Wembley with the switchblade in what most at the scene interpreted as a plea for mercy killing. Lej and Carmella had by now reached an agreement, and Lej used the bullhorn to holler, "Wembley, if you slit that goat's throat, they're gonna serve it in the school cafeteria!" Wembley hesitated for about half a second, then led the charge back onto the bus, leaving Miss Matilda and the goat in the fountain and Lej and Carmella arguing over whether to arrest the kids or give Web Nottaclue a ticket for double parking. Both the bus and Web drove off before the law made up their minds, with the mayor still on top of the bus shouting reelection promises at anyone he passed. The goat and Miss Matilda were last seen heading for the library, where Miss Matilda reportedly checked out several volumes on wool-gathering and spinning. (Rumor has it she smuggled the animal into the Tipple Time later that evening as a guide dog, but reports from that vicinity are notoriously inaccurate after about 5:30 p.m., though it is certain no one would notice a little goat odor there.) Stray Lake Town Council dodged another bullet at its Wednesday meeting, when the state official sent to close the sewer plant fainted as the wind shifted then awoke with amnesia. "It's lucky we had a warm night, or the windows might not have been open" Fourth District Councilperson Jay Fliptrickle, Jr. observed. "What drifts in with the windows closed isn't generally enough to knock visitors over. They usually just get sick and run for the head." The state official, whose name no one seems to have gotten, was rushed to Maid of Mercy recuperation Clinic, where they gave him gas, pumped his stomach, and generally made him uncomfortable. Doc Pandemic took his pulse, but seems to have offered little other help. The poor devil was then taken to Loomisville and put a bus for Las Vegas. When state officials called about his whereabouts, Mayor Leroy Wertzbrimmer pretended deafness (as he does when citizens call with complaints). In other business, council nixed a motion by Second District Councilperson Louise Taylor-Gumblat that Third District Councilperson Paul Boxtuttler be shot. It was generally agreed that Louise, Paul, and Ernina, Paul's second wife, had better try again to work things out. First District Councilperson Peter Epply made a motion to allow the Hammer Slammers Handyman Club to erect a scaffold around the fountain and statue of Col. Richardson in the town square, to no apparent purpose. After much discussion, the motion passed unanimously, this being an election year. Council agreed to pay the bill for having George Banger's car pulled out of the giant pothole that swallowed it last Thursday when George was on his way to Maid of Mercy's deliver room with his wife, Dotty. Dotty delivered in the pothole, assisted by town marshall Carmella Casey. Council also voted to send George and Dotty a bill for first aid services, which coincidentally matched their towing bill. Louise offered that council ought to do something about that hole, Paul offered something under his breath, and Louise took offense. The meeting was quickly adjourned before it could take up a request from Arlo Peters that the tree which city workers felled on his house be removed before his daughter graduates from Stray Lake High this spring or perhaps next. Mayor Leroy Wertzbrimmer, deeply offended at not getting the chance to say anything that sounded like a campaign promise, bought rounds for this reporter at the Tipple Time while trying to bend her ear for some space in the paper. He failed. Beach party in Stray U gym lands faculty in hot water By Wilma Whipstittle Signal-Gazette Staff Writer The near-arrest last week of the entire faculty, staff, and board of trustees of Stray Lake U on charges of outlandish partying, disturbing the peace, and thinking about a riot would have marked the first time in history more teachers than students got busted during a spring break. It definitely marked the first time 22 tons of sand was spread across the gymnasium floor at Stray U. Police are still investigating, but say the incident may be tied to the theft of 57 potted rubber tree plants from the nursery at the Stray U College of Animal Husbandry. "That's a strong possibility," Town Marshall Carmella Casey commented, "considering we found 57 potted rubber tree plants in the sand among the potted partiers. We're checking fingerprints right now, but lifting fingerprints from leaves is kind of tough, especially when you know very little about lifting fingerprints in the first place." According to reports pieced together by the Signal-Gazette from what little anyone remembers of the evening, it apparently began with the usual mandatory in-service faculty day held each spring while Stray U students are on their party break. This year's program was to be a day-long retreat in the gym, involving everyone who works at Stray U. Stray U President Dufoise Trolleyhauler and Board Chairperson Henrietta Swatchnickle were in charge of the program, and rather than have lunch catered they asked everyone to bring a covered dish. Chemistry Professor Elmer Retort's covered dish was several cases of a new diet drink he has been perfecting, and while it may have few calories its alcohol content seems to be on the considerable plus side. It must be pretty tasty as well, for Prof. Retort was in the lab mixing up a quick backup batch well before Henrietta stood (as best she could) to address the multitude. The multitude paid her no attention, for geology prof Roger Rockslide was stirring up resentment about the students being on some sunny beach while the faculty got stuck in Stray Lake each spring. It was getting ugly when Rockslide proposed spreading sand in the gym for a beach party, and a call to the Loomisville Quarry and Large Rock Rental Company soon had trucks rolling up to the doors. Stray U Basketball Coach Bouncer Barksdale was just about beside himself when the sand began to hit the hardwood, but Prof. Retort was by this time back with a new batch of soda and a few sips convinced Bouncer his teams would lose no matter what the floor looked like. In fact, it was Bouncer who suggested a few plants might help the atmosphere. An expedition struck out for the nursery, and another party went in search of a band. The rubber tree plants were in place when the music lovers showed up with Flat Dead Eels, a group of high schoolers who had been working out in a garage. As evening fell and the faculty began to drop, women's volleyball coach Boppa Slammerspike was organizing beach volleyball and the Flat Dead Eels were making noises that had the animal rights people perking their ears. It wasn't long before Stray County Sheriff Legible Thomas showed up, and but little longer until he was sipping Prof. Retort's soda and doing the limbo. Carmella arrived about midnight, after Mayor Leroy Wertzbrimmer decided he was getting so many calls he had to do something, even if something did offend the voting faculty at Stray U. Carmella and Lej of course fell to arguing about jurisdiction, then Lej just fell and stayed there so Carmella had jurisdiction all to herself. The bullhorn Carmella usually uses to make her point was of little use against the Flat Dead Eels, so she brought in her trusty German Shepherd, Whimp. The dog took one look around, whined, and began to do what dogs do, in all the rubber tree plants. Botony prof Moss Greenmold noticed the plants beginning to droop, saw Whimp at work, and organized a party to waylay him. It gets sketchy here, but Carmella admits to using her flare gun to signal for help, Prof. Greenmold admits he did yell something about needing a stuffed dog for the Stray U museum, and president Trolleyhauler admits he remembers nothing. Carmella wanted to admit everyone to jail, but the soda had run dry and the crowd simply staggered away as Whimp began to lap the spilled diet drink from the floor. Carmella said she is thinking about calling the state police for help with the fingerprints, but is still busy nursing Whimp through his hangover. President Trolleyhauler, nursing himself, said next year's in-service would be held at a monastery. Lej said he will display his first place limbo trophy right next to his fifty per cent shooting accuracy award. Flat Dead Eels lead guitarist Paul Pancher, Jr., said he will have to think long and hard before doing another Stray U faculty gig. The proposed four-lane highway bypass that would skirt the sewage plant was put on a temporary halt last week when scientists discovered a hitherto unknown life form in the plant's holding lagoon and slapped the little bugger onto the endangered species list. "Anything in or near that sewage plant is endangered, even if we don't know what it is," state environmental czar Lousia May Pickalot told the Signal-Gazette. "That's why the mandatory low speed limit on the bypass was going to be 85 miles an hour unless everyone in the vehicle was equipped with an oxygen mask. We were also going to have the highway people put up warnings about engine corrosion and paint damage." Pickalot said State Environmental Agency (SEA) scientists had been astounded to find "funny-looking little things wearing party hats, swimming around in water samples from the lagoon - if you can call what festers in there water. Our people had never seen even a hint of life in previous samples, and a quick analysis of this one showed nothing should be able to live in it. Nothing we know about, that is." Sewer plant chief engineer Gilhooly Gramartripe said he had always suspected something was living in the lagoon, but had kept his mouth shut for fear of being carted away in that jacket with the extra-long sleeves. "My professional reputation has been pretty much ruined by working here," he told this reporter, "and my wife took the kids and went to her mother's place some years ago. That's why I've been living in the office at the plant, and, well, you know how people are. If I had told anyone at the Tipple Time I hear party noises - bands, singing, raucous laughter - coming from the lagoon late at night, they'd have carted me away to a padded room, where I would sit by myself day and night ... actually, that doesn't sound too bad. Do you think I'm crazy?" This reporter thinks no one at the Tipple Time will get anywhere near Golhooly until real late in the evening, due to a certain eau de stench that attaches to him, and by that time probably wouldn't remember anything he says about parties in the lagoon. But yes, his trolley has rounded one too many bends. Speaking of the bends, SEA's Pickalot said several of her people got them while testing samples from the lagoon, but are recovering. She said scientists noticed the funny stuff in lagoon samples, then put it under a high-powered microscope and observed the microscope being eaten away by fumes. After they covered the sample, they saw what they described as "little loose-jointed things in baggy pants and oversize sweatshirts, wearing funny hats and doing jerky dances as they screamed 'Party on!' at the tops of their lungs. Lots of them had jewelry in their tongues." "I do not believe any of our students went to the sewage lagoon for spring break," Stray Lake U President Dufoise Trolleyhauler commented. "On the other hand, the College of Animal Husbandry has been doing a lot of cloning experiments, and you never know what can go wrong over there. But if Stray U had anything to do with this new life form, we've got first dibs on the profits." Mayor Leroy Wertzbrimmer said he thought the lagoon creatures would be a big tourist draw for Stray Lake, and was setting up a concession near the sewage plant to rent full body protection and breathing apparatus to people who wanted a closer look. He added that he was probably responsible in some way for this find, this being an election year, but that he had nothing to do with the bypass being halted. He droned on in this vein for another 45 minutes and was still talking when this reporter left him alone in his office. Pickalot said the SEA is investigating the possibility the new life form might be related to the legendary Stray Lake Scum Beast, but until and if a link is established the boogying bugs will be known as Stray Lake Outlandish Bacteria Samples (SLOBS). The creatures are being kept in a hermetically sealed room at the SEA lab, where they may be viewed by slipping officials a few bucks. |
| ©2000, Robert A. Markwalter. All rights reserved. |