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September October | November | December | Home Penguins assault church group May 3, 2000 Groomer snaps May 10, 2000 Prehistoric dinner May 17, 2000 Goats outnumber girls for fair queen candidates May 24, 2000 Two penguins from the Stray Lake Petting Zoo and Sausage Factory were still at large last week after assaulting a youth group from the Candle Creek Church of the Freewheeling Apostles. Zoo owner Claretta Bong said she had no idea how the assault could have happened, but planned to add penguin sausage to her line of meats once they were captured. "I keep those birds so drugged they can hardly move," Claretta explained."You have to, when the weather heats up. Heck, I can't afford air conditioning or cold water, and if they move around much they'll croak. Do you know how much penguins cost on the black market?" Claretta explained the drugs are also necessary to keep the birds looking good. "They molt when the weather heats up," she said. "So I have to brush them off then spray paint them. If they're not drugged, they go berserk." The birds evidently went berserk last week when the youth group ran out of the pennies it was feeding them. "We tried to buy food from the vending machine," youth group leader Amoretta Divuldgement told this reporter, "but the machine was broken. We figured Claretta could just collect the pennies from the bottom of the penguin pond and it would be the same thing. Then the kids ran short of money, and it got ugly." The two penguins, Sam and Alice, chirped for a few seconds, flapped their flippers, then swam across the penguin moat and crawled out to go amongst the youth group. "They kept pecking at my pockets, looking for more pennies," youth group president Aldita Jupiter remembered. "Can you say, 'Smell bad?' Haven't those birds heard about cleanliness being next to ... oh, gee, what was it that cleanliness is next to?" Candle Creek Church of the Freewheeling Apostles Minister Reverend Homer Haskall said he planned to forgive Claretta and the penguins, but had also spoken to attorney Bumbles Hatrack about bringing a lawsuit. "These children may have suffered irreparable psychological damage," Rev. Haskall explained, "and I see no reason we shouldn't cash in on that. I'm willing to forgive, but I also think we can sue. I just hope those penguins are found before they repeat themselves." Stray County Sheriff legible Thomas said he had his department on the lookout for the birds, but wasn't holding out much hope. "What are those things, about three feet tall?" Lej asked. "You remember when we were on the lookout for Bunkum Gage about six years ago? He was the size of an icebox, and we didn't spot him until he walked into the station to give himself up." Claretta said she doubted the penguins would assault anyone else. "If you saw a penguin waddling sown the street, would you throw pennies at it?" she asked. "If people will just give these birds some raw fish and point them in the direction of the zoo, we'll have penguin sausage at the Tipple Time before you know it. Oh, by the way, try to avid giving them fish from Stray Lake." Rev. Haskall said he thought penguin sausage would make a nice addition to the Church of the Freewheeling Apostles' annual chicken dinner and roulette extravaganza this July, and would be willing to talk with Claretta about dropping a lawsuit in favor of such. Claretta said she was willing to talk, but would like to test-market the penguins first to see if the market was such she could afford the lawsuit and still make a profit. She added she planned to lose about $50 dollars at the church festival anyway, and hoped the Rev would keep his pants on until then. Lej said that if the Rev took off his pants either before or after the festival, there were several ordinances which could be invoked, including public indecency and frightening penguins. The next youth group tour will be to the Maid of Mercy Recuperation Clinic, and we can only hope they steer clear of the communicable disease floor. By Wilma Whipstittle Signal-Gazette Staff Writer Galeena Harnsbabble was doing better at Maid of Mercy Recuperation Clinic last week after she evidently caved in under the pressure of her pet grooming business and began buzz-cutting everything in sight. "I just walked in to pick up our little poodle, Whoopsie," Mayor Leroy Wertzbrimmer explained as he examined the bandages on his shiny dome. "It was horrible. I thought I'd run across some Stray Lake U gene experiment in cloning giant Chihuahuas with oversized tails. And the Chihuahuas were all trying to nab these two naked birds, who were screaming ... I can't repeat what they were screaming. They must have been owned by a sailor." When the mayor walked through the door, Galena evidently fixed on that long strand of hair he combs over his bald spot and set on him with her clippers. The mayor panicked and launched into his standard campaign speech, which usually has everyone nodding off almost immediately but had no effect on crazy Galeena. By the time he got into his third set of promises, she had his head completely bald (and pretty nicked up, what with him struggling to be heard over the clippers) and had ripped off his shirt to work on his chest. That's when Winnie Wertzbrimmer, who had been waiting outside in the mayor's reelection van, came in to see what was taking so long. She sized up the situation, grabbed one of the shaved cats, and began to beat the mayor with it. The shaved parrots saw their opportunity and flew through the open door, followed by the cats, who pretty much stampeded Winnie. Galeena noticed Winnie's hairdo (which some claim to be a wig), got a new gleam in her eye, and the two were next seen circling the fountain and statue of Col. Richardson in the Town Square. The cats had now spread all over town, causing the sheriff to receive numerous reports of alien invasions. The parrots were perched on the top of Col. Richardson's head, shouting pretty much unprintable stuff as they watched Galeena gain on Winnie. The mayor finally noticed there was no one at the grooming shop and went looking for a new audience, finding it in the crowd which was gathering at the square. Stray County Sheriff Legible Thomas arrived about this time to look into the alien calls, and when he removed his hat to wipe his brow Galeena got a glimpse of his wavy hair (the gambling tourists often mistake Lej for Elvis), and set out for it. Lej dived back into his sheriff cruiser, but did not get the door closed before Galeena also threw herself in. The tinted windows hid most of what went on, and even though Lej claims to have subdued Galeena quickly he has not removed his sheriff hat since. Galeena was shortly removed to the clinic, where Doc Pandemic said she should be fully functional in another week but has advised her to cut back on her clipping schedule. The mayor was treated and released to the custody of his wife. The cats were mostly still at large, and the parrots were last seen descending on the home of the widow Morrison, who should have no problem with them considering some of the language she uses when the meter readers step on her begonias. In a related development, Stray Lake U President Dufoise Trolleyhauler vigorously denied the College of Animal Husbandry was conducting cloning experiments with animals. "We use nothing but students in our research here," he said at a sparsely attended press conference at the Tipple Time. "We don't even use chickens anymore, and we don't even use students who look like they have a shot at graduating without cheating. I hope this clears the record, let's have another round here." By Wilma Whipstittle Signal-Gazette Staff Writer The prehistoric creature unearthed last week by workers at the Stray Lake Gravel Company was probably a hitherto undiscovered species, according to state museum curator Roald Vicuspidor, who was hospitalized with a fit of apoplexy when he arrived to examine the critter and found himself offered only leftovers. "Tasted like chicken," Lou the bartender at the Tipple Time told Vicuspidor just before the curator went into his first convulsion, "and we had an awful time getting it on the spit." The mummified beast looked like a giant flying squirrel, according to gravel company employees, and had six wings and more legs than anyone bothered to count. "It must have been 30, maybe 40 feet long, and excessively ugly," gravel company superintendent Lewetta Herschdorn told this reporter as we dined on the beast and drank beer on the deck of the Tipple Time overlooking the sewage lagoon. "It reminded me of my brother-in-law." Lewetta said the creature first saw the light of day in who-knows how many millennia when scoop loader driver Fernaldo de Fuca, brother of Tipple Time chef Juan, tried to run down coworker Kyle Festering, who had been out with Fernaldo's wife the previous night. Fernaldo missed, but ran the scoop into an undug bank and nosed out the prehistoric remnant. "We were all astounded," Lewetta confided, "because Kyle is almost as ugly as Fernaldo. It was at this point that Lewetta said she suggested the beast might be the entrée at the company picnic, considering the quality of the meat the company usually springs for. Fernaldo consulted with Juan, who agreed to apply his special catfish whiskers marinade to the proceedings, and Lou offered his barbecue pit if he could cash in on the leftovers. This was a hairy carcass, and Juan singed the fur with a blowtorch, but the state air alert had been cancelled by the time the unnamed species was done to a golden turn. Diners were lined up into the parking lot when Juan began to carve, and many stayed after they saw the results. They were not disappointed, and most were not nauseated, especially those who got the cuts Juan had successfully de-haired. Of course, Lou's stomach remedies were a big item, but so were the pull-tabs sold to finance the Stray Lake High junior class trip to Columbia. The Gravel Workers Benevolent Society also took in a goodly chunk, and Lewetta is presumed to have skimmed her share. Doc Pandemic said museum curator Vicuspidor should be able to leave Maid of Mercy recuperation Clinic in three or four days, but doubts that he will ever be the same. Of course, Doc always doubts anyone will ever be the same, but that is probably due to his never cleaning his eyeglasses. Lewetta said she plans to encourage Fernaldo's wife to keep seeing Kyle, because there might be other prehistoric delicacies hidden at the gravel pit and this company picnic was the best tasting ever. In a related development, Stray Lake U President Dufoise Trolleyhauler was seen leaving the party with a large bone tucked into his belt, so the College of Animal Husbandry might be announcing their giant flying squirrel clone before the college note comes due at the Monopoly Bank and Trust of Stray Lake. "No comment," said Dufoise. "Also, no more free drinks from the gravel people, so I'm outta here." By Wilma Whipstittle Signal-Gazette Staff Writer The prehistoric creature unearthed last week by workers at the Stray Lake Gravel Company was probably a hitherto undiscovered species, according to state museum curator Roald Vicuspidor, who was hospitalized with a fit of apoplexy when he arrived to examine the critter and found himself offered only leftovers. "Tasted like chicken," Lou the bartender at the Tipple Time told Vicuspidor just before the curator went into his first convulsion, "and we had an awful time getting it on the spit." The mummified beast looked like a giant flying squirrel, according to gravel company employees, and had six wings and more legs than anyone bothered to count. "It must have been 30, maybe 40 feet long, and excessively ugly," gravel company superintendent Lewetta Herschdorn told this reporter as we dined on the beast and drank beer on the deck of the Tipple Time overlooking the sewage lagoon. "It reminded me of my brother-in-law." Lewetta said the creature first saw the light of day in who-knows how many millennia when scoop loader driver Fernaldo de Fuca, brother of Tipple Time chef Juan, tried to run down coworker Kyle Festering, who had been out with Fernaldo's wife the previous night. Fernaldo missed, but ran the scoop into an undug bank and nosed out the prehistoric remnant. "We were all astounded," Lewetta confided, "because Kyle is almost as ugly as Fernaldo. It was at this point that Lewetta said she suggested the beast might be the entrée at the company picnic, considering the quality of the meat the company usually springs for. Fernaldo consulted with Juan, who agreed to apply his special catfish whiskers marinade to the proceedings, and Lou offered his barbecue pit if he could cash in on the leftovers. This was a hairy carcass, and Juan singed the fur with a blowtorch, but the state air alert had been cancelled by the time the unnamed species was done to a golden turn. Diners were lined up into the parking lot when Juan began to carve, and many stayed after they saw the results. They were not disappointed, and most were not nauseated, especially those who got the cuts Juan had successfully de-haired. Of course, Lou's stomach remedies were a big item, but so were the pull-tabs sold to finance the Stray Lake High junior class trip to Columbia. The Gravel Workers Benevolent Society also took in a goodly chunk, and Lewetta is presumed to have skimmed her share. Doc Pandemic said museum curator Vicuspidor should be able to leave Maid of Mercy recuperation Clinic in three or four days, but doubts that he will ever be the same. Of course, Doc always doubts anyone will ever be the same, but that is probably due to his never cleaning his eyeglasses. Lewetta said she plans to encourage Fernaldo's wife to keep seeing Kyle, because there might be other prehistoric delicacies hidden at the gravel pit and this company picnic was the best tasting ever. In a related development, Stray Lake U President Dufoise Trolleyhauler was seen leaving the party with a large bone tucked into his belt, so the College of Animal Husbandry might be announcing their giant flying squirrel clone before the college note comes due at the Monopoly Bank and Trust of Stray Lake. "No comment," said Dufoise. "Also, no more free drinks from the gravel people, so I'm outta here." By Wilma Whipstittle Signal-Gazette Staff Writer The Stray County Fair is still seeking queen candidates, accepting both people and animals. "We have seen some good looking goats," said queen committee chairperson Alvin Thullus. "The girls have not been that hot, but they never are at this stage of the game. It seems your good lookers always wait until we offer the big cash prize, which of course we hope not to have to offer if we get an acceptable entrant." Lucretia Hakstall, the one officially recorded people entrant, allowed she resented that comment but did resemble it. "I suppose I should not have gone for the do-it-yourself plastic surgery," she admitted. "But the price was right, and I had many times carved the roast beef on Sunday. Anyway, what is wrong with looking like Horace Walpole?" Last year's queen, Hal Kink's goat, was Easter dinner at Hal's place, but runner-up Benita Xerxes said she was tempted to enter the contest again. "Is there a rule that says past winners can't compete?" she asked. "Come to think of it, are there any rules? Alvin promised to tell me last year at the victory dinner at the Tipple Time, but then I had two or three special drinks he mixed in that private room and I don't remember much." Alvin said past winners were indeed encouraged to compete, especially Benita. "I will be glad to explain the rules to her again, she has only to call me while my wife is out of town," he admitted. County fair chairperson Kimberly Loush said she was concerned with the lack of queen candidates, but would rely on Alvin's good sense to set the matter right. Kim also revealed she has stopped taking her medication, which probably accounts for her relying an Alvin. In a related development, the Stray County Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Goats is considering banning its members from entering their animals in the queen contest. "Parading across the stage with those girls has traumatized a lot of our goats," society president Harlaxta Quill explained. "Maybe the county fair people should have two classes for the queen contest, goats and people, and hold the people part out behind the cow barns late at night when no one is around." Alvin said he did not think a lack of goats would hurt the contest, but promised to study the idea of two classes. "Maybe Harlaxta and I could discuss the matter," he allowed. "My wife is going to visit her sister next week." |
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