Fauxhasset Paroder, 95th Edition: FEALs Feels

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

The liberals are revolting. And we mean that as a present participle, not as a statement of character. There is an actual revolt taking place outside the Temple, where the Assembly of Chosen has been besieged by supporters of FEALs, the Fairly Elected Assembly of Leaders.


Not being allowed to vote is giving this young liberal ALL the feels. | Photo credit 

After Father Timeraptor restored the Chosen to their proper ages, the board resumed its regular meetings as if nothing had happened. It has already filled the two seats that were vacated by members who died of old age during the Oldpocalypse.

Those seats are now occupied by incredibly lifelike wax figures of their former occupants, Jiles Knack and Gene Strom. At the start of Tuesday’s meeting, Town Moderator Norm Lacostradamus conducted a séance and placed Knack and Strom’s spirits inside their respective wax figures, so the models are even sentient, although their mouths don’t move when they speak.

The self-appointed Fairly Elected Assembly of Leaders (FEALs) is having none of it.

“We governed and guided Fauxhasset through the Oldpocalypse while everyone else was either freaking out or napping,” said Zane Harris, vice president of the Fenclave, who served as interim Town Manager.

“No one is looking to replace Mown Tanager or the three Chosen who survived the Oldpocalypse,” added Harris, “but it’s a little shocking that they went ahead and filled those seats with glorified puppets rather than bring in some new blood. There should have at least been a vote. It’s bad democracy.”

FEALs has drummed up a lot of support from the town’s schoolchildren, from whose ranks its members had appointed themselves. They have so far failed to attract older voters, but they do have two things on their side: Sheer numbers, and completely vacant schedules, since they are all on summer vacation.

That means they are completely free to gather, plot, scheme, campaign, and besiege their elders, even if they are not actually old enough to cast votes themselves at the “Fair and Just Democratic Election” they’re demanding.


Morty Lembas, a rising senior at the Fenclave, speaks for many students when he says he wishes he could vote. “My parents won’t let me do anything since my little brother got eaten by a pothole,” Lembas said. | Photo credit

“We might be young, but we took care of Fauxhasset for three whole months, and that should count for something,” said Lieutenant Lava, a student at Captain America’s School for the Awesome who served on the FEALs from April through July.

“We started the new political party ‘Make Life Fair Again’ to bring back justice and democracy,” Lava said. “We hope the town will do the right thing and join us in our fight for a fair election.”

Police said they cannot arrest or remove the children camped out around the Temple as long as their protest remains nonviolent. They have partnered with the Panic Brigade to air drop supplies into the Temple for the 17 employees and elected officials trapped inside.

Two members of the media, this reporter and broadcast technician Miiike “Jax” Jackson, were allowed to walk free, as FEALs felt it was important to maintain positive relations with the press.


Fauxhasset Paroder, 94th Edition: Rabble-Housers

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

Construction teams have completed the re-re-development of the Affordable Luxury Homes at 8 Lame Jane’s. Residents started moving in on Sunday. Thus was averted the 788th apocalypse detailed in the late Father Mumblehill’s “Book of Apocalypses.”


100% not cursed or your money back* | Photo credit

“To be clear, it is in no way certain that this property has been purged of all lingering curses,” said Ezekiel Henderson, an apostle of Mumblehill’s who is carrying on the good Father’s work to prevent a total of 792 potential apocalypses before they happen.

“But,” said Henderson, “that’s the rabble’s problem now. We’ve got 787 other apocalypses to deal with.”

Compared to the destruction of life, the universe, and everything, what’s a flickering light here, a cold spot there, a demonic apparition every Tuesday at 9:00 p.m.? Small price to pay. Every home has its quirks, after all. [Disclosure: Your reporter was approved for a unit at the 8 Lame Jane development.]

According to Henderson, the unique properties of the homes at 8 Lame Jane’s should be the least of everyone’s concerns.

Consider, said the apostle, the sky that was recently torn down over the harbor; the trees that have been missing since January; the eternal summertime; the Christmas that refuses to end, sliding its digital claws into our bank accounts and Apple Pays day after day; the thousands of cats swarming the town; and the fact that the glitter spilled during construction at Castle Girdlehausen still hasn’t worked its way out of the local water cycle.

“These are all apocalypses waiting to happen,” Henderson said. “With God’s help, the other apostles and I are doing our best to stop them, but it may be His Will to smite Fauxhasset. He’s certainly come up with enough creative ways to do it. Brothers and sisters in the Lord, pray! Fast! The Cataclysm may be upon us.”

When asked for comment, the Panic Brigade urged residents to pray if they want, fast if they must, but please – please! – leave the panicking to the professionals.

Instead, between hyperventilated gasps for air, officials recommended visiting the local Gnaws or Cop & GOP to stock up on shelf-stable goods for your family bunkers. Families that do not have apocalypse bunkers should contact the Panic Brigade at once for an Armageddon Survival Starter Kit.

* No refunds will be issued to the deceased, so do try to stay on the demonic apparition’s good side. 

Fauxhasset Paroder, 93rd Edition: Big-Ass Bottom-Feeders And The Self-Chosen Frozen

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

The Oldpocalypse is now officially old news. Since Father Timeraptor’s brief visit on July 4, everyone has been restored to their proper ages, and that’s reason enough to pop off the corks on some thousand-year-old Atlantean champagne – which is exactly what everyone in town spent the weekend doing.

As if people weren’t elated enough, the coveted antique bubbly had the effect of raising them a few inches off the ground for a moment after each toast. The only damper on the evening was that those who had passed on during the Oldpocalypse, such as Father Mumblehill, were not returned to the land of the living – but, there is a time for mourning, and this weekend was not it.


The exquisite plating of this colossal crustacean was done by celebrity chef Girl Fieri. | Photo credit

In celebration, the man-eating lobster moat around the Waffle House has been emptied, its contents cooked and devoured. The colossal crustaceans were caught and subdued by a volunteer band of aliens. Apparently the humongous Homarus, known for their man-eating tendencies, never acquired a taste for intergalactic meat, rendering the big-ass bottom-feeders relatively docile during the hunt.

As supersized shellfish screamed on massive grills across the Common, Town Manager Mown Tanager confessed that the Assembly of Chosen had been saving the over-large lobsters for the town’s 2,500th anniversary celebration next summer, but this week’s occasion seemed fitting.

Plus, he’s hoping the feast might butter folks up for the tax hike he’s about to propose to fund the $20 million replacement of the Temple – but that’s off the record, he said.

During the festivities, Two Men were reunited with their Faceless Baby, who spent months on the run with an unidentified 59-year-old woman in possession of a powerful anti-aging wristwatch. The timepiece had rendered the woman just 12 years old during the Oldpocalypse, making it a highly coveted item in town and driving the woman into hiding in the Womp.

The pair traipsed into the Village halfway through the party, covered in sticks and mud. The woman said the watch was now broken and wandered off to a dimly-lit corner to mourn. The Faceless Baby said, “wub wub wub.” Two Men were unable to determine whether she was repeating sounds she’d heard in the Womp, or simply trying to imitate the cops DJing the event with their cruiser sirens.

At that moment, those who had cryogenically frozen themselves at the Self-Storage facility were brought out to the Common and ceremonially thawed. These included Ben Bentley, the richest man in town; Jimmy Garoppolo, president of the Fenclave; the retired captain of popular bagel destination Salt Water Dough Rings; and Fauxhasset’s most famous (or infamous) canine, Two Men’s Dog.

All 42 of the self-chosen frozen were welcomed back with cheering, champagne, and succulent man-eating lobster – well, all except for local hotelier Ord Girdlehyde, whose cryo-chamber “didn’t fit in the truck,” according to Self-Storage employees.

“Just leave him there,” suggested more than one resident. “Maybe now we can get a proper restaurant on the harbor that’s actually open to the public occasionally.”