Fauxhasset Paroder, 78th Edition: The Return of the Groundhog

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

Groundhog Day came and went with the normal amount of fanfare. Punxsutawney Phil made his customary appearance on the Common, emerging from the Hallowed Burrow to prophesy six more weeks of winter to the thousands of residents listening raptly on the Town Common.

Fauxsutawney Fil, a large raccoon who claimed to be the reincarnation of the original groundhog RALPH and last year triggered the Thousand Foot Snow, was long gone through the Accursed Burrow. Fauxhasset believed it was safe from anything more sinister than another 42 days of winter.

It was wrong.

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Speaker of the Fenclave Shannon Blackstone says residents’ discarded cash will boost the nation-state’s fledgling economy. | Photo credit

Just as the festivities were dying down, the stars began to keen and a steady womp-womp-womp could be heard in the distance. An unnaturally large blue moon appeared in the west to face down the small, pale gibbous rising in the east.

Soon the massive impostor raccoon appeared on the horizon, silhouetted against the uncanny blue moon and flanked by his multi-specied worshippers (including 13 indestructible porcupines, which were supposed to ensure Fauxhasset never saw the impostor raccoon again, but had apparently been converted to Fil’s cause).

“My fellow Fauxhassians,” Fil boomed. “Last year, you drove me out of your fine town, being displeased with the eternal winter I so benevolently bestowed upon you. This year, I will do better. Phil has promised you six more weeks of winter. I now promise you that winter is hereby over – forever.”

“Cold? Snow? Things of the past,” Fil promised. “Instead, I give you warmth, sunshine, and Christmas every day!”

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Not like this was a rare sight, anyway. | Photo credit

Explosive applause from the children. As for the adults, those gathered seemed uncertain whether or not to cheer. Many began to clap at the mention of permanent paradise weather, only to freeze up at the mention of permanent Christmas. Other simply downed their drinks and threw their cash in the air.

“Eh, we were just going to burn it to keep our home warm for the next six weeks, anyway,” explained one celebrant. “Not sure Christmas every day will eat through it fast enough.”

Fil and his congregation returned peacefully to the Womp, while befuddled residents trailed back to their homes. Students of the Fenclave stayed late into the night raking up all the cash with the help of the Green and Renewable Energy Group (GREG).

“I am constantly blown away by the disrespect these people show to the environment,” said GREG Chairman Kelvin Ermits. “All this litter – we provided receptacles for paper, plastic and glass at every exit! How much easier can we make it?”

Speaker of the Fenclave Shannon Blackstone said, “I think the thing we need to address, and no one is talking about this – but all this paper is actually, like, money. I mean, it’s old money. We can’t, like, Venmo it or anything. But Prezzy Jimmy says it has legit value, so we’re collecting it to add to our burgeoning economy.”

“Hey,” Blackstone added, looking over her shoulder to Fenclave President Jimmy Garoppolo for guidance. “Do colleges take this stuff?”

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Fauxhasset Paroder, 70th Edition: Faucets Spouting Sparkling Water

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

Construction is well underway at Ord Girdlehyde’s new development, Castle Girdlehausen, despite neighbors’ best efforts to prevent the palatial hotel from being built – and by “well underway,” we mean “horribly, disastrously underway.” Murphy’s Law hangs heavy on this place.

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Om nom nom – mineral content. | Photo credit

Luckily for Girdlehyde, Murphy just happens to live a few towns over in Pemborke, so Girdlehyde called the old dog over to see if he could re-jigger the law in his favor. Sort of like how the Guardians of the Ocean, Shore and Harbor (GOSH) re-jiggered the local wetlands bylaws in his favor last month.

Murphy, a French bulldog, rolled into town on a motorized skateboard on Saturday to bork his blessing upon the development. Knock on wood, nothing else has gone wrong since the good dog paid his visit.

However, even Murphy cannot undo the consequences of the past, so it still falls to the DPW and those idiots at Town Hall to resolve the issues that had previously arisen due to the construction project.

These issues include, but are not limited to, the impassibility of Mecca Mile due to ongoing construction at every single property as neighbors clamor to remain the most impressive structure on the block, and the pollution of the town’s groundwater with seemingly-infinite quantities of the world’s glitteriest glitter that were spilled at the work site last week and which have now made their way into residents’ hoses, sinks, showers and toilets.

“You do not understand the severity of the situation,” said Hess Jacket, a resident of the Peachhood neighborhood on the opposite side of town. Her lips produced small puffs of glitter with every hard consonant she pronounced.

“Our skin sparkles. Our sweat sparkles. Our pee sparkles,” Jacket said. “The shrubs are so sparkly we didn’t even have to put up Christmas lights this year. And these potatoes that took root in our pantry – see, when we cut them open, they were full of glitter. My kids can’t eat that.”

Citizens who are experiencing glittery water should contact the Fenclave. President Jimmy Garoppolo reports that enterprising students have been collecting the excess glitter and shipping it around the country in the form of festive décor, vengeance glitter bombs, and proprietary “sparkling” water.

“It’s organic af,” said Speaker of the Fenclave, Shannon Blackstone.

Fortunately, Mecca Mile residents are suffering slightly less, despite the blockade of construction along their street. Many have left town for their winter homes around the globe. Those who remain reported that they are quite happy and comfortable, and send their gratitude to Serengeti CEO Beff Jezus for sending their groceries and other packages by drone.

Fauxhasset Paroder, 67th Edition: Thankfulness Level Over 9,000 This Year

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

Another year, another Turkey Day. This Thanksgiving, our fine town released more than 9,000 turkeys over the harbor. 9,000, Fauxhasset! That’s 9,000 living creatures saved from dinner tables, sent forth into the wild where they can fly free another year.

The sound of their thanks was deafening. The very air seemed to ululate with all the gobbling, and it rained loose feathers upon the Thanksgivers gathered as the birds made their ungainly but inspirational ascent and flapped off into the sunset.

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For years, the media has sworn that turkeys can’t fly. Science (and the iPhone Ω alternate reality camera) have now empirically shown that this is fake news. Photo credit

 

Of course, as we all know, the Turkey Day ritual isn’t just about the turkeys – it’s about the things each and every one of us is thankful for, which we whisper into the turkeys’ ears before setting them free.

Fortunately for the Paroder, a few Thanksgivers were kind enough to share those thanks out loud with the paper. Without further ado, here’s what Fauxhasset is thankful for in 2017.

Two Men And Their Dog And Their Faceless Baby: We are just over the moon about the latest addition to our family – our little Lumin, light of our world, adopted from a fellow Fauxhasset resident who was unable to care for them. We’ve been waiting a long time to become parents, and we’re loving every minute of it.

Rookie Ranger Devan Branch, Part-Time Jedi, Part-Time Pirate, Part-Time Wandering Minstrel, Etc.: I’m thankful for gainful employment. 26 times over.

Unidentified 64-year-old woman: I’m thankful for this mysterious, backwards-ticking watch I got from Ms. Blackstone at the Fenclave. It’s making me age backwards! Not only do I look great, but by the time my foot-dragging children get around to giving me some grandbabies, I’ll be fit enough to play with them! Now this is between you, me and the turkey, understand? I don’t want my children finding out. Be sure you don’t print my name with this!

Students of the Fenclave (formerly Fauxhasset Middle-High School): We’re thankful for our handsome, peaceful, loyal President Jimmy Garoppolo who would never, ever, ever leave us for another team – like, say, the 49ers. That would just never happen, and we are so, so #thankful.

Father Mumblehill (Flaxen Mary Abbey): We praise the Lord every hour the world doesn’t end. We know that someone in this town is working to bring this about, but it will not happen until the Lord’s time, which is not known to us. Therefore, every moment the Earth continues to spin, every moment we draw breath, every moment the dead remain dead and not an army of undead marching upon us to hasten the end – we praise the Lord. Yet when the end comes, we shall praise Him then, as well!

Mecca Mile residents: Strict wetland bylaws.

Ord Girdlehyde (Mad Elephant Hotel, Castle Girdlehausen): Loopholes.

Reporter Thamanda Crompson: I’m thankful for all the cute cats that keep appearing outside the Paroder office. Ever since they rebuilt the old Abraham Building that’s kitty corner to ours, the cats just keep spawning – about two or three a week. One has even moved into the office, which is great for morale and for sitting on my hands while I try to type to keep my fingers warm. So sweet. He says his name is Snowfire and I think I’m in love.

Citizen whose name could not be released due to ongoing legal action: Thank you, man who provided the old, red brick I was looking for in the community classifieds last month. I know you are probably wondering what you’ve wrought, with me in prison now and all, but I have just two words for you, my friend: Worth. It.