Fauxhasset Paroder, 63rd Edition: Clean Getaway

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

There has been some very spooky activity in Fauxhasset Village of late – and no, we don’t mean the ominous Latin chanting emanating softly from all the trees. No, not the eyeballs in the streetlights, either. No, no, no – not that bloodstain outside of the Temple. That’s nothing. Don’t pay any attention to that.

We’re talking about the midnight rituals taking place at 8 Lame Jane’s, where a luxury condo development mysteriously burned to the ground last month.

As police suspect arson, the area is technically still a crime scene and therefore closed to the public, but neighbors have reported late-night activity on the property nonetheless. However, by the time police arrive, the small bobbing lights described by witnesses have always disappeared, leaving investigators with no leads.

Town Manager Mown Tanager visited the scene this morning and said it simply looked like the trespassers had been cleaning. Ash and debris had been cleared out of some of the yards and what remains of the units’ basements.

“If only every burglar could be this tidy!” commented Tanager. “They’re saving DPW a good deal of work – and the Town a good deal of money that would have been spent on that work. The taxpayers should be pleased.”

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Those burglars clearly know their manners… and their memes. Photo credit

The taxpayers are not pleased. Many have noted the blood-red symbols and diagrams painted on the now-bare earth – the very same that appeared in the basement of one of the condos, and later on Fame Island, and most recently on Achey Cedars Lane. Neighbors are convinced that satanic rituals are being carried out on the property.

“Just like when my husband was alive,” commented one elderly neighbor. “He used to see them doing it. Blinking lights and spooky sounds… the devil was in that old house all right. And if you think the property isn’t cursed, tell me why those condos burned to the ground last month!”

The cops think the lady doth protest too much and have brought her in for questioning.

Meanwhile, the Paroder received an email from 8 Lame Jane’s developer J.J. Henry, who shows no signs of returning to Fauxhasset anytime soon, but was kind enough to share some insider information with us – and, by extension, all of you, dear readers.

Henry purchased the Lame Jane’s property in 2012 when the previous owner sold it for “undisclosed reasons.” Before that, the site had belonged to the same individual since 1962 – an individual who still resides in Fauxhasset, who has had his hands on a wide range of other properties in town, including Fame Island. That individual, said Henry, is no other than Mr. Z. Donne.

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

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Fauxhasset Paroder, 60th Edition: 8 Lame Jane’s Condos Out of the Frying Pan

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

Tragedy struck Fauxhasset village this week when, despite the rainy weather, the entire development at 8 Lame Jane’s suddenly and inexplicably burst into flames. Thankfully, no one was harmed, as no one had yet moved in to the ultra-luxury condo units.

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Is this…. not how fire normally looks? Photo credit

In fact, due to bureaucratic delays last winter and the Thousand-Inch Snow last spring, the development had only just been completed. The last construction vehicle had barely rolled off the property before the whole endeavor went up like a Roman candle in a 19th-century office full of newspapers. (And we should know. On a side note, back issues of the Paroder are now available only in digital form – we apologize for the inconvenience.)

On the scene nearly as fast as the firefighters was Father Mumblehill of the Flaxen-Mary Abbey and five young protégés from his fall “Egyptology 101” class, the whole lot of them bearing crucifixes and urging onlookers to repent.

“Ishtar has opened the gates to the realm of the dead,” one student explained as he wept and repeatedly mashed handfuls of white marble stone dust from the driveway into his hair. “The zombies are coming now. Repent, and maybe binge watch The Walking Dead while you still can.”

Neighbors are panicking, with several packing up their things and heading to the Mad Elephant Hotel on the harbor, where the generous owner Ord Girdlehyde is always happy to provide rooms free of charge for residents displaced by acts of gods, demons, aliens, ghosts, and other supernatural forces.

Officials are doing their best to settle everyone down.

“There are no zombies!” roared Fire Chief Harlan Dowser. “No demons, no gods – just regular old arsons, that’s all we’ve got here. Go on home and let us clean up.”

Gradually, people did go home, but judging by the lack of available bandwidth around here tonight, I’d say most of them were listening to the stone dust kid and not the Fire Chief.

With so much rain in recent days, Dowser said it was unlikely that the buildings had caught fire from something as innocent as an electrical spark or a carelessly-tossed cigarette butt. Even if such an incident had started the fire, he said, it would not have affected all four buildings (12 units total), and they would not have gone up as quickly as they did, nor burned so thoroughly.

Yet that is exactly why Mumblehill and his minions suspect a supernatural element. “Wouldn’t you say the buildings went up… unnaturally fast?” Mumblehill challenged the Fire Chief.

Police removed him and his students from the scene and returned them to the abbey and the Fenclave, respectively. No charges were pressed. Developer J.J. Henry could not be found for comment, but contractors leaving the scene assured us he was not on the property at the time of the incident.

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

Fauxhasset Paroder Op-Ed: Demons? Aliens? No, just teenagers.

Dear Editor,

As strange symbols continue to proliferate across town, the Fauxhasset Paroder has been treating these incidents like a particularly mystifying chapter of The Hardy Boys. This must stop. You are only encouraging them.

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So threatening! Poor Mr. Henry shouldn’t have to clean up this mess. Photo credit

Since 1952, my husband and I— well, truth be told, my husband is no longer with us, so it is just “I” now, but regardless… for all those intervening years, I have lived across from what is now the Lame Jane development, and I can assure you that the “otherworldly diagram” painted in the basement was the work of hooligans and juvenile delinquents.

Before Mr. Henry purchased the property, my husband (who served in the Great War as well as the Fauxston Police Department – he had very keen blue eyes, broad shoulders, a good, sturdy handshake, and a nose for when something wasn’t right, which is how he came to bring this matter to my attention) – he and I used to see teenagers trespassing in the condemned house on that lot at least once a month. I guarantee that the images in Mr. Henry’s basement and in the cave on Mr. Donne’s island were created by the same.

The troubled youths used to spend hours in the crumbling house, probably drinking cheap vodka and smoking that Mary Jane when they should have been home helping their mothers with the dishes. To create such upsetting and occult imagery on someone else’s property certainly must have required the influence of very serious substances – perhaps even, as my husband (a God-fearing man) used to say, “Sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll.”

We had reason to believe these hoodlums were engaged in all three. They thought we couldn’t see them, lighting the way with only the pale blue glow of their cordless telephone screens, but we saw everything: the strange shadows, the flickering lights, the silhouettes of flailing limbs, all to the screeching and pounding of that electronic noise that kids these days are calling “music.”

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Should’ve been home studying. Photo credit

Now that their old hideaway’s gone, is it any wonder these reprobates sought out – and evidently found – other dark corners from whence to practice their heathenry? It hardly matters to them whether they trash Mr. Henry’s good name, or anyone else’s, in the process.

It’s not right, and something ought to be done about it. Mr. Henry is such a nice man who is trying to do great and noble things for our humble village district. Rather than blaming gods, demons, or aliens for this vandalism, I urge the Fauxhasset Police (and perhaps a few local parents, as well!) to look a little closer to home for the culprits and to furnish the emotional and psychological help that these children so clearly need, before it is too late.

Sincerely,
A Concerned Citizen