Fauxhasset Paroder, 68th Edition: Black Hole Friday, Cyborg Monday

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

In a day that shall henceforth be known as “Black Hole Friday,” the transfer station and boutique – which relocated to the vortex in the harbor last spring – had the biggest holiday blowout you’ve ever seen. And we do mean “blowout.”

On Friday, the vortex inexplicably and without warning changed direction and began spewing out all of the junk that people have been throwing into it since April, along with some unidentified space stuff including a small piece of glowing rock, a broken light saber, and a massive, inside-out paramecium that is actually quite cuddly.


How do you like THAT Christmas tree? Photo Credit

Police asked that parents please stop taking their children to throw letters to Santa into the void. The void, they said, is not taking requests. You get what you get, said the police, and you don’t get upset. Furthermore, the area is dangerous to the public due to the flying debris.

The vortex continued vomiting our detritus back into the harbor for three days straight. Then, on the fourth morning, the robots came: a day which shall henceforth be known as Cyborg Monday.

First there was just one robot, and readers, it was kind of cute. It had a very humanoid structure and pleasing arrangement of features so that one instantly felt it could be trusted. Most of its exterior was sleek and white, not unlike the products by our own trusted Apple Inc. – therefore adding to the illusion.

It was only when there were four hundred of them that people began to wonder whether they should be concerned. But by then, it was too late. It was much too late.

The four hundred held the harbor against the combined police forces of Fauxhasset, Proxituate, Kingham, and Borewell, and meanwhile, more cyborgs kept emerging from the vortex until their ranks numbered in the thousands.

Once here, the robots simply stood there, not allowing anyone through to the vortex. They did not try to march on the town. No one, human or cyborg, was harmed at any time, except for those who tried to approach the black hole. The robots would not even allow cleanup crews near enough to remove the trash.

The influx continued until the clocks ticked over to midnight, marking the end of our fine town’s very first Cyborg Monday. But the robots did not disappear when the holiday ended. They are still standing there, perfectly still, eyes gently pulsing blue as they stare and stare. And stare. And stare.

Town Manager Mown Tanager said he plans to negotiate with the robots just as soon as his wife finishes baking the five hundred casseroles he plans to present as a peace offering. Until then, no one is to approach the black hole. Letters to Santa can be delivered to the police department for forwarding.


Fauxhasset Paroder, 67th Edition: Thankfulness Level Over 9,000 This Year

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

Another year, another Turkey Day. This Thanksgiving, our fine town released more than 9,000 turkeys over the harbor. 9,000, Fauxhasset! That’s 9,000 living creatures saved from dinner tables, sent forth into the wild where they can fly free another year.

The sound of their thanks was deafening. The very air seemed to ululate with all the gobbling, and it rained loose feathers upon the Thanksgivers gathered as the birds made their ungainly but inspirational ascent and flapped off into the sunset.


For years, the media has sworn that turkeys can’t fly. Science (and the iPhone Ω alternate reality camera) have now empirically shown that this is fake news. Photo credit


Of course, as we all know, the Turkey Day ritual isn’t just about the turkeys – it’s about the things each and every one of us is thankful for, which we whisper into the turkeys’ ears before setting them free.

Fortunately for the Paroder, a few Thanksgivers were kind enough to share those thanks out loud with the paper. Without further ado, here’s what Fauxhasset is thankful for in 2017.

Two Men And Their Dog And Their Faceless Baby: We are just over the moon about the latest addition to our family – our little Lumin, light of our world, adopted from a fellow Fauxhasset resident who was unable to care for them. We’ve been waiting a long time to become parents, and we’re loving every minute of it.

Rookie Ranger Devan Branch, Part-Time Jedi, Part-Time Pirate, Part-Time Wandering Minstrel, Etc.: I’m thankful for gainful employment. 26 times over.

Unidentified 64-year-old woman: I’m thankful for this mysterious, backwards-ticking watch I got from Ms. Blackstone at the Fenclave. It’s making me age backwards! Not only do I look great, but by the time my foot-dragging children get around to giving me some grandbabies, I’ll be fit enough to play with them! Now this is between you, me and the turkey, understand? I don’t want my children finding out. Be sure you don’t print my name with this!

Students of the Fenclave (formerly Fauxhasset Middle-High School): We’re thankful for our handsome, peaceful, loyal President Jimmy Garoppolo who would never, ever, ever leave us for another team – like, say, the 49ers. That would just never happen, and we are so, so #thankful.

Father Mumblehill (Flaxen Mary Abbey): We praise the Lord every hour the world doesn’t end. We know that someone in this town is working to bring this about, but it will not happen until the Lord’s time, which is not known to us. Therefore, every moment the Earth continues to spin, every moment we draw breath, every moment the dead remain dead and not an army of undead marching upon us to hasten the end – we praise the Lord. Yet when the end comes, we shall praise Him then, as well!

Mecca Mile residents: Strict wetland bylaws.

Ord Girdlehyde (Mad Elephant Hotel, Castle Girdlehausen): Loopholes.

Reporter Thamanda Crompson: I’m thankful for all the cute cats that keep appearing outside the Paroder office. Ever since they rebuilt the old Abraham Building that’s kitty corner to ours, the cats just keep spawning – about two or three a week. One has even moved into the office, which is great for morale and for sitting on my hands while I try to type to keep my fingers warm. So sweet. He says his name is Snowfire and I think I’m in love.

Citizen whose name could not be released due to ongoing legal action: Thank you, man who provided the old, red brick I was looking for in the community classifieds last month. I know you are probably wondering what you’ve wrought, with me in prison now and all, but I have just two words for you, my friend: Worth. It.

Fauxhasset Paroder, 66th Edition: GOSH Darnit

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

The Guardians of the Ocean, Shore and Harbor (GOSH) should have booked a bigger meeting room for their Monday night meeting, the agenda of which was dedicated to a proposed development in the heart of the wetlands bordered by Mecca Mile, Atlantis Boulevard and Sand Street.

Local business owner Ord Girdlehyde plans to construct a castle on the site to supplement the rooms available at his Mad Elephant Hotel (MEH) on the harbor, which Girdlehyde said is frequently too full of displaced Fauxhasset residents in need of short-term housing to accommodate any actual paying guests.


Girdlehyde swears the castle will be “tasteful and attractive,” not “stark and military.” | Photo credit

The new establishment will be called the Girdlehausen. Abutters turned out in droves to object to the development, calling the structure an “eyesore” and an “attractive nuisance for the children.”

Neighbors are trying to act like they are upset about the potential environmental impact of the project, the flagrant disregard of local wetlands bylaws, the reputation for late-night noise at Girdlehyde’s other establishments, and of course, as ever, the dearth of parking in town.

“Our children go to bed at 6:30 p.m.,” said one woman at the GOSH meeting. “Our friends on the harbor tell us that Ord’s coyote tenants are up playing that techno music until three in the morning on a regular basis. Now he wants to bring that noise to another neighborhood? That isn’t Fauxhasset. Ord just wants to make money. He doesn’t care about us, our children, or our town. He’s not even here tonight.”

Girdlehyde responded via Skype from his fall home in the Appalachian Mountains.

“First of all, I am hurt that you say I am not here tonight,” Girdlehyde said. “I am very much here. I am speaking right now, as you can see.”

“Secondly,” Girdlehyde went on, “the coyotes are not tenants. Like the others staying at the hotel, they are simply displaced; I am doing them a favor. The hotel is not their legal address; they are simply staying with me until they can settle some issues with their permanent residence.”

“Finally,” Girdlehyde concluded, “a correction of terms. The music they are playing – it is not techno. This is not 1997. These are cutting-edge artists – visionaries! Very popular in Germany and the Arctic. They would be hurt to hear you say ‘techno.’”

Be that as it may, noise was ostensibly one of the reigning concerns among Mecca Mile area residents who attended the meeting on Monday. But we all know that their true fear is that Girdlehyde’s castle will upstage their mansions, forcing them to continue building up and out to remain the most glamorous property in the neighborhood.

Good luck with that, since Girdlehyde has partnered with painter Stuart Semple – inventor of the world’s glitteriest glitter, who has a vacation home in Fauxhasset – to develop a custom paint for the castle’s exterior. It’s likely that even Princess Elsa’s School for Turning Superheroes into Snowflakes will be put to shame.

Look for more on this issue in an upcoming edition of the Paroder.