Fauxhasset Paroder, 52nd Edition: Everything is Connected

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

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Come on, Buster; what kind of map is this? All the street names are spelled wrong. “Jerusalem Road?” “Atlantic Ave?” Everyone knows its “Mecca Mile” and “Atlantis Boulevard.”

This was going to be a good news story, Fauxhasset. Achey Cedars Way was finally going to be paved this week, after three decades of potholes and patchwork.

Instead, when contractors went to pulverize the existing roadway, they found something disturbing underneath: more strange symbols, painted in a familiar gleaming red that experts still have failed to confirm is not blood.

Like the symbols found at the 8 Lame Jane’s condos and on Fame Island, these depicted an eight-pointed compass rose and an astrological diagram, joined by an acute angle. But they also indicated something far more sinister than either of the previous two findings: not only is there some sort of weird occult conspiracy going on in Fauxhasset, but there has been for more than 30 years.

Neighbors panicked. Three families up and left without even packing their belongings. Others once again booked an extended stay at the Mad Elephant Hotel. And owner Ord Girdlehyde, philanthropist that he is, once again took them in free of charge.

Town Manager Mown Tanager did his best to calm everybody.

“In a way, it’s kind of comforting,” said Tanager. “This has been here for thirty years, maybe even longer, and nobody even knew about it. Same with the one at Lame Jane’s. I won’t deny they look bad, but if they were going to summon demons or something, don’t you think they would’ve done it by now?”

“IT SWALLOWED MY BROTHER,” bellowed Dooey Lembas, a student at Princess Elsa’s School for Turning Superheroes into Snowflakes, whose younger brother Shorty fell into a pothole while playing in the street last December and never came out.

Tanager looked conflicted, but Dooey’s parents pulled her into the Escalade with her seven remaining brothers and drove off before the Town Manager could respond.

The Paroder reached out to paranormal consultant Buster DeGost, who has followed some of the strange goings-on in Fauxhasset since Shorty disappeared last winter.

“You said this angle points west?” DeGost said. Frantic scribbling could be heard on the other end of the line. “It’s a triangle. Achey Cedars, 8 Lame Jane, and Fame Island – they’re all exactly a mile apart. They form a perfect triangle. And all the other paranormal activity is happening inside it.”

It’s true: the black hole in the harbor, the Hallowed Burrow that coughed up Fauxsutawney Fil instead of our beloved groundhog this Feb. 2, the space-time rift that has been muddling the duration of public meetings at the Temple (and briefly unleashed a time-raptor at the Semiannual Spring Séance) – all of these events were clustered neatly within the triangular framework DeGost supplied by email.

What does it all mean?

“Hell if I know,” said DeGost, “but I’ll look into it.”

Fauxhasset Paroder, 51st Edition: This content has been flagged due to suspicious activity

By Sobby Raint-John
Fauxhasset Paroder Crime Correspondent

Denizens of the Harborception awoke confused and scared early Friday morning when dozens of miniature pirate flags were discovered on each of their private docks. Despite no damage being done to the docks or boats attached to said docks, police received no fewer than nine concerned calls.

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Even the paddle boats and rafts were vandalized. The nerve! Photo credit

Reportedly, Fauxhasset citizens are divided on just who is responsible for planting the Jolly Rogers. Mark Abnorman, home owner in the Harborception, instantly blamed the youth of the Fenclave.

“Are you kidding? Of course it was them,” said Abnorman. “Those teens have been causing trouble all over town. Likely some kinda raiding party since they sure as hell must be running out of food by now.”

When asked if anything had been taken from his property, Mr. Abnorman admitted that nothing was missing that he knew of.

Fenclave President Jimmy Garoppolo denied any wrongdoing by his teenage citizens. There is, he said, a perpetual growth organic garden in the school’s courtyard, which not only suffices to feed the Fenclave population but also (he reminds the people of Fauxhasset) served to keep the surrounding community fed during the Mile-Deep Snow of 2017.

Some residents blamed actual pirates, while others were sure that Father Mumblehill’s ancient Egyptians were at work.

Police, meanwhile, pursued other, more promising leads. This lead them to finally return Two Men and Their Dog’s cell phone, which had been taken into police custody late last year after the three were caught taking pictures of trees.

However, due to insufficient evidence, they were unable to press any charges at this stage. The jury is still out as to just who is responsible for the flags and what they could possibly mean.

Fauxhasset Paroder, 50th Edition: Screaming into the Void

After months of people screaming into the void, the void has reportedly started screaming back.

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It never ends, and just like your SnapChat photos, your screams never truly disappear. Photo credit

The black hole in the harbor has made a fitting receptacle for the public’s existential despair since it opened in late February. For four months, residents have been screaming their grievances into the singularity, never to be heard by anyone on Earth… or so they thought.

But now the black hole is regurgitating their cries, and not everyone likes what it’s saying.

“…GREG’s always on my case…”

“…JELAMENA-8…”

“…still haven’t made any friends, and Jimmy doesn’t…”

“…proposing to Monica today…”

“REPENT!”

“…Shorty? Shorty, are you…”

“…got to move on Achey Cedars…”

And those are just the confessions. The vortex has also been coughing up tweets, which are well known for their propensity to slip into the void.

 

“The statements I made to the black hole were made in confidence,” said one resident, who wished to remain anonymous. “This is a violation of confidentiality laws.”

Local attorney David Osiris said that the black hole couldn’t possibly be violating confidentiality laws. No one was paying it for these alleged “therapy sessions,” and therefore there was no physician-patient privilege to uphold.

“People don’t even know if these so-called ‘therapy sessions’ were mutually consensual,” said Osiris. “Maybe the void didn’t want their screams. If anyone has a case here, I’d say it’s the black hole.”

When the anonymous plaintiff heard this, they amended, “Well, at the very least it’s a violation of trust and extremely unfair.”

Oh honey. Welcome to the universe.