Fauxhasset Paroder, 85th Edition: How To Be A Human 101

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

Over the weekend, 1,000 of Fauxhasset’s newest residents crowded into the Waffle House for a conference retreat hosted by the Helping the Unearthly Masses Acclimate to the Newworld (HUMAN) Society. The retreat was organized by Jedi Master Devan Branch, former full-time part-timer.


Quick, pretend to be human! | Photo credit

Branch founded the HUMAN Society this spring to help the 8,000 illegal aliens who moved to town in January after an interdimensional portal opened in the sky over the wetlands.

The aliens say they’re happy here and don’t wish to leave, calling it “the most perfect place in the universe” (and they aren’t wrong). However, they clearly have no idea how to live like us or among us, and that incongruity is taking its toll on the rightful residents of our fine town.

The weekend was dedicated to teaching newcomers the necessary skills for surviving in Earth society – and, more specifically, in the very unique and special society of Fauxhasset, which as we all know is in a league of its own.

On Friday evening, Branch taught the aliens the essentials of coming and going – rule number one being “Never go out past 9:00 p.m.” Nothing good can happen after 9:00 p.m., even (or especially) if that infernal Waffle House stays open all night long.

Branch also taught that it is necessary to pick a side in the ongoing Grocery Wars. While the HUMAN Society will not prevent or punish anyone for choosing Cop & GOP over Gnaws, he said, they cannot abide a flip-flopper who just shops willy-nilly wherever the fancy strikes him.

On Saturday, the aliens learned about the importance of appearances.


Yeah, just like that! Perfect! | Photo credit

The art of appearance is not just about hiding one’s green skin, tentacles, or excess features and appendages (defined as “more than two” for all features and appendages besides the nose and mouth, of which there should be one each, no more, no less).

But appearances are so much more than that, said Branch. It’s about the car you drive, the kids that your kids hang out with at school, and the tiny embroidered logo on the pocket of your polo shirt (appropriate images include a man riding a horse, a smiling whale, or a very smol alligator, no teeth).

It’s about volunteering for all the right causes. Never mind showing up, Branch added; the important thing is that your name is attached to something bigger than yourself, and everyone can see that.

It is about the state of your lawn, Fauxhasset! We all know how important it is to take care of one’s lawn. Nine tenths of neighbor relations boil down to adequate lawncare.

On Sunday, Branch wrapped up the conference up with family talk.

Aliens had an opportunity to practice the art of the humble kid-brag in live simulations. A volunteer artist was on site creating custom vinyl stick figure decals for the aliens to put on their vehicles so that everyone else can see exactly what their family looks like and enjoys.

Finally, Branch concluded, if all else fails, try adopting a dog – “It will give you something to talk about,” he said.

A representative from the local animal shelter was outside, trying to pass off some of Fauxhasset’s excess cats as dogs to the unwitting adopters. 400 “dogs” found their way into forever homes and forever hearts that day.

“There’s a lot about this town that we take for granted,” Branch told the Paroder in an exclusive interview. “Even other humans are confused by us. Whether or not Fauxhasset is ‘the most perfect place in the universe’ as the aliens believe it to be, it’s definitely one of the most unique places in the universe. Climbing that learning curve isn’t easy, even – or especially – if you have a spaceship.”


Fauxhasset Paroder Op-Ed: O.K.O.K. Not O.K.

Hey Fauxhasset, can we have a serious chat for just a second? Since the O.K.O.K. Café closed, there have been a lot of so-so eateries in and out of that location. Some of us were even content with every one of them (I’m looking at you Chompsky), but really? A Waffle House?


Darth Vader is serving up his own son’s hand on a platter, and you want me to believe this place isn’t a den of evil sickos? | Photo credit

I don’t care if it’s some kind of interdimensional Waffle House wishing well. Just because a cat has kittens in the oven doesn’t make them biscuits; a Waffle House is still a Waffle House, and that makes it a gateway to more than just waffles – it’s a gateway to drugs and crime.

This Waffle House in particular is a gateway to extraterrestrial drugs, interdimensional crime, and literally who knows where?! In February we all read the story of the aliens being arrested at the Waffle House. I wasn’t surprised – and can any of you honestly say that you were?

While I know there have been fewer and fewer stories in the police blotter, there is a simple explanation for this lack of coverage. The Paroder’s crime correspondent Sobby Raint-John went to investigate the Waffle House with Crompson and she never came back, so of course we are seeing fewer crime stories.

Honestly though, I just thought we as a community were better than this, and that’s what I find the most disappointing. I think it’s time we faced the truth: Only the O.K.O.K. Café was O.K. enough.

Poe Phoe


Fauxhasset Paroder, 83rd Edition: Well That Escaladed

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

As the pleasant spring weather returns, so too do the less-pleasant perennial spring issues. They crop up year after year, like weeds in our perfect garden of a community. Like Sisyphus, we are bound to heave our boulder up the hill repeatedly for all eternity.

Or at least, we are bound to heave our bodies up the hill to the soccer field on Saturday mornings from the parking lot where soccer parents are SUPPOSED to leave their cars, Fauxhasset – and not from halfway up the hill, parked askew with two wheels in the roadway and two on the sidewalk like savages.



If the Town decides it doesn’t like where you parked… well, sucks for you. | Photo credit

Parking, of course, is an issue as old as time here in Fauxhasset, but it has reached a breaking point now that the aliens have doubled the town’s population – and with it, the number of vehicles its parking lots must accommodate.

The Assembly of Chosen met Monday to discuss. After four hours, attendees were growing restless.

“I don’t see why we can’t just send them all to satellite parking,” said one audience member. “Isn’t that for satellites?”

Everyone knows the answer to that is “No.” According to the bylaws, the satellite parking lot is for employees of the village business district and not for visiting spacecraft.

An alien in attendance noted that she and her family are not “visiting.” She said that she, her husband, their three children, and their extended family have been living at Ord Girdlehyde’s Castle Girdlehausen in the wetlands since January and plan to stay there until the kids graduate from the Fenclave.

Therefore, she said, the bylaw doesn’t apply to them; there’s no reason that, as permanent residents, their parking should be restricted under the Visiting Spacecraft Parking Act of 1969 just because they happen to drive a space vehicle.

Furthermore, she said, her entire extended family shares a single vehicle – a compact electric spacecraft that takes up less space than an Escalade (at least on the outside).

Board members agreed that the size of the vehicles was irrelevant; there are simply too many of them in proportion to the number of available parking spaces in town.

He-Chosen Saul Preston suggested asking the Capital Budget Committee to cough up for that car vaporizer they were talking about last spring.

“The City of Fauxston got a dozen of them last year, and I hear they’re having absolutely no parking issues this season,” Preston said. “It’s also lightened up the traffic on city streets and highways. I think it’s always a good thing when we can take cars off the road – it’s good for the environment.”

The board agreed to put the idea on the Capital Budget Committee’s next agenda.

As the meeting ended, the Paroder caught up with ɱʘиα£ΐϨα, the alien who spoke during the meeting.

“I’m not saying parking isn’t a problem,” said ɱʘиα£ΐϨα. “It clearly is – but it also clearly has been since long before my family came to town. Yes, we are contributing to the problem, but we are just as happy to be part of the solution. All we ask is that the Town stop pointing fingers as if we were to blame, and afford us the same rights as everyone else in town. We pay our taxes, too, you know. We shouldn’t have to park a mile away for everything.”