Fauxhasset Paroder, 59th Edition: New iPhone is a Bad Apple

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

There’s a dangerous new trend sweeping Fauxhasset. If you are one of the few not riding the bandwagon, we urge you to stay vigilant – or better yet, just stay home.

Residents have gone gaga over Apple’s latest smartphone, the $9,999 iPhone Ω, and it’s costing them a lot more than cash – it’s costing lives, limbs, and in some cases, souls.

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Apple’s patented “Infinite Screen” – an early concept. Photo credit

The Ω model is the first smartphone to do away with old-fashioned biometrics in favor of a soul wavelength reader, replacing stale facial recognition technology with deep recognition on a spiritual level. Apple CEO Kim “Fool-of-a” Took claims it’s the most secure form of identity verification ever created and cannot possibly be hacked.

Like previous iPhone models, the Ω has no headphone jack – audio streams directly to the user’s brain. Unlike previous models, it has no charge port, either. Users are instructed to place the phone in moonlight when the battery gets low or, in the absence of moonlight, on a chunk of Apple’s custom selenite ($69.99, available in satin spar, desert rose, and gypsum flower) overnight.

The new device sports an unprecedented button-less, bezel-less display that is screen all the way around, 360 degrees, broken only by small recesses for the front and rear cameras – which are equipped with the latest capabilities in AR (alternate reality) technology. With this proprietary technology, users can simply point the camera at a real-world scene, and the image will be digitally overlaid with people, places and things from a time and space they never even imagined.

That, dear readers, is the part that is jeopardizing lives here in our ordinarily peaceful, if quirky, hamlet by the sea. People are so entranced that they are not even looking up from their phones while walking, driving, or changing the baby’s diaper (which we can’t really blame them for).

Police said there have been three times the normal number of car accidents since the device was released on Tuesday, including 12 that involved pedestrians simply wandering into traffic, convinced by their iPhone that they were somewhere else entirely.

When asked about the incidents, the victims gave explanations such as, “My GPS told me to do it,” “There was a Zapdos over there,” and “I saw my dead grandfather beckoning me to help in the garden.”

So far there have only been three fatalities. Police said the other accident victims were transported to the local hospital with minor to severe injuries, but all are expected to live. Police also said that anyone caught looking at their phone while driving would be arrested immediately.

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Fauxhasset Paroder, 58th Edition: Troubled Bridge over Waters

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

Fauxhasset very nearly made it through beach season without significant destructive action by CAR, the Clandestine Auto Regulators determined to make local motorists drive more slowly and carefully.

To be sure, the indestructible porcupines CAR let loose on Fivest Ave. were a pain (especially to the tires they punctured), but even this act did not cause any lasting damage. No drivers were harmed, and the ruined tires were replaced by the Town. The indestructible porcupines disappeared down the Accursed Burrow in pursuit of Fauxsutawney Fil some weeks ago, and neither has been seen or heard from since.

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What do you mean “shambles?” This is how it always looks. It’s perfectly safe. Photo Credit

But with the last of the nice weather came one final dramatic act by the shadowy traffic vigilante group, and this time they’ve left Funningham Bridge in shambles. Overnight, they demolished half the bridge, leaving just one lane open for travel.

Police have temporarily closed the entire bridge due to concerns over potential structural damage that was not immediately evident. All they’ve found so far, however, are chalk scribblings on the underside of the bridge indicating that “CAR was here” and the number “35” scrawled thousands of times across the substructure.

Meanwhile, residents of the beachside part of town are rioting in what remains of the street. What if there’s an emergency, they’re demanding, and an ambulance needs to get through? How will the school bus pick up their children? How will UPS deliver the smart EMF detector they ordered from Serengeti?

Town Manager Mown Tanager remained calm.

“The situation was under control before it even happened,” said Tanager. “This was supposed to be a surprise on the first day of school, but the district has replaced all the buses with environmentally-friendly, electric-powered spaceships. The electric space vehicles can be used by any department in town, including the Fire Department, so there’s no need to worry about them reaching you in case of an emergency.”

Apparently, Tanager explained, Alien Santa had been building the spaceships in his yard on Fame Island – a hobby the neighbors were quick to frown upon, as the custom ships were starting to accrue on the property and become an eyesore.

This summer, at the urging of Santa’s neighbors and GREG (the Green and Renewable Energy Group), the Town acquired the spaceship fleet for use by the schools and other Town departments, so getting over the bridge for school and emergencies definitely won’t be a problem, Tanager said.

Now, if residents wanted to get out to go to the grocery store, that would be a different story, but since everyone in town just gets their organic food and Reverb tech from the Serengeti Farmers’ Market, he doubts the temporary bridge closure will be an issue, since Serengeti offers one-hour drone delivery for members of its Superlative loyalty program.

Police are saying the bridge should reopen for alternating one-way traffic by the beginning of next week.

Community Classifieds

SIGN UP TODAY! This fall, the Flaxen-Mary Abbey is offering a new class in Egyptology. Vexed by the community’s ignorance of the iconography of the goddess Ishtar, the esteemed Father Mumblehill will lead students in a crash course on the spiritual significance of the symbols appearing around Fauxhasset. The course will include a practical section designed to prepare students for the eventuality of a zombie uprising resulting from the use of these symbols.

Do you have an unwanted pregnancy? We’re looking to adopt! A little bit about Us: We are Two Men and Their Dog. We live in a nice three-bedroom house near the center of town that is always decked out for the season (right now: the Autumnal Equinox!). But, with the Two of Us sharing a room and Our Dog in a room of his own, We still have extra space to fill in Our home and in Our hearts. Please consider helping Us complete Our family!

Fauxhasset Paroder, 0th Edition: How I Met My Mother

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

Sunday, August 27: a day that was like a birthday to me.

I, who had never had a birthday (that I could remember); I, who had never known my parents (or at least had not seen, heard, or received money from them in the memorable past); I, who had lived my entire life (all 10 months of it that I could recall) without any origin or backstory: I was finally to learn where I had come from, where it all began.

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Aw, Mom; you didn’t have to get me a cake! Photo credit

Two months ago, I covered the Futuristical Society’s silent auction. It was a fundraiser for their project to convert the historic Peachhood Congregational Church, which shuttered when Christianity went out of business in the 1990s, into a space center.

The top prize of having the future space center named in one’s honor went to our town’s wealthiest resident, Ben Bentley, for a cool $40 million. The structure shall be called the Benjamin Buckminster Bentley III Center for Space Observation and Exploration.

At the other end of the spectrum, the least desirable prize – a trip back in time to witness one’s own first moments on this earth – went for $2.07. Not $2.07 million. Just two dollars and seven cents. It was all I had left after stopping at Mooncheddar Coffee on my way to the event. I thought I’d be outbid. Instead, I was the only bidder in the category.

Thus it was that I found myself lying on my back in the Peachhood Church bell tower last Sunday, surrounded by strange, white chalk symbols, a couple of friends for moral support (shout-out to Rookie Ranger Devan Branch, Part-Time Everything, and New Kid On The Block Monica Moniker), and Futuristical Society Director Zed Harbinger, who would be operating the “time machine.”

Harbinger said some strange words and rang the bell backwards so that it pealed loudly moments before he struck it. He was supposed to ring it 28 times, one for each year I was traveling backward, but I only heard the first clang before the world around me blurred and my memories of the past 10 months began streaming by in reverse.

At first I could pick out individual memories: Branch and me trapped in Fauxsutawney Fil’s woodland prison, the black hole, Fame Island graffiti, President Jimmy Garoppolo – but soon the memories were coming too fast and all I could do was grit my teeth and wait for it to—

It stopped.

Actually, it hadn’t been so bad, or so long. Had I really traveled 28 years into the past? I could tell right off the bat that I hadn’t. I was somewhere familiar, and though it had, perhaps, slightly fewer cracks and crevices then, there was no doubt I was on Achey Cedars Way. And it was not that long ago.

It was, in fact, last October. Yellow leaves collected in the deep potholes. Jack o’ lanterns dotted the doorsteps. Political signage on nearby lawns pitted Hillary Clinton against Donald Trump for president, with a solitary “Tom Brady for Prez” sign in the mix. It must have been around 9:00 in the morning – early and chill, with a bit of mist still hanging around, but late enough that everyone had gone to work or school. Even the dogs were quiet.

Harbinger had botched it, or so I thought. But then, a roaring helicopter appeared overhead and slowly descended on the vacant street. I felt that I should back away, but I didn’t really have a body to do so and could therefore only watch. The vibrations got inside the cracks and sent crumbs of the street jittering away until at last the pilot cut the motor.

Two men descended from the craft. No, not those Two Men. Two anonymous men, who I recognized at once. Police have asked me not to name names since the investigation is ongoing. Suffice it to say that you know these two men. The anonymous men approached a particular pothole – the one that, a few weeks later, would swallow five-year-old Shorty Lembas – and scowled into its depths.

“Looks OK to me,” said one of them. “I say we go for it. Some of us took a hell of a gamble on this, and we don’t all get to live forever, you know. I have three businesses riding on this. I’ll be bankrupt.”

“Not yet,” said the other. And that was all. They boarded the helicopter and left.

It seemed the pothole agreed with the impatient one. As bits of the street came loose and danced beneath the aircraft’s vibrations, something must have fallen into place, because the pothole began to glow, and moments later it opened up.

Or, no – that wasn’t right. It inverted itself, became a hill. And at the top was a person. A woman. Tall, pink-haired, riding a one-wheeled electric skateboard. She brushed some dirt and blood off her knees and palms, looked around in bewilderment, and finally took off on the skateboard, riding toward Fivest Ave.

That was it. My “first moments on this earth.”

I was born out of a pothole at age 27.

It finally makes sense why paranormal investigator Buster De Gost could never figure out what (or who) came out of that pothole when Shorty Lembas went in. What had caused it to reassert the universal balance by swallowing the next person to come along? The answer, it seems, was me.

That’s it for this report. I have an apology to make to a certain Dooey Lembas, and a helping hand to extend – for what it’s worth.