After my last letter to the editor, I’m told I kind of worried some of you. I’m sorry; I was just so overwhelmed at the time. Truthfully, I still am, but I’m getting a handle on all of Devan Branch’s past part time jobs. I thought it could be fun to write about my various jobs now and then to keep you all from worrying. So let’s talk about how I’m a pirate now, because that’s a thing.
This message in a bottle was found by a member of the underwater yoga class. But in some ways, the bottle WAS the message. It says: STOP THROWING YOUR TRASH IN THE OCEAN. | Photo credit
When Devan gave me his list of part time jobs, it pretty much just told me where I had to go for each one. No instructions or advice, just “go here.” So I was pretty skeptical when I got to pirate. Literally, it just said, “the ocean” and that was it. I thought it was a joke but Devan included a small footnote which said: “Not a joke.”
Having no boat or no nautical training, I knew this was going to be slightly tricky. Hours later, I stole (commandeered?) someone’s boat from the Fauxhasset Sailing Club and was quoting every cliche pirate phrase I could remember as I drifted further and further out of the harbor. (To the person whose boat I stole: I’m sorry. I’ll bring it back when I finish. (And if I don’t sink.))
Since setting out on my voyage, I’ve really questioned the need for a part-time pirate in Fauxhasset. I figure, once I know the answer then it will be time for me to move onto my next job. On the plus side, being out in ocean kept me from getting old when the timeraptor visited town. So that’s cool. Alright, this is getting long so I’ll wrap it up. I need to shiver my timbers or something like that.
I did it. I DID IT FAUXHASSET. I GOT THEM. I SO GOT THEM. Where do I begin? Okay, you might think I’m crazy but I swear the pieces fit. I remember 50 years ago like it was last week. I’m sure most of us do. It WAS last week.
If you’re worried about conspiracy theories, be sure to get your regulation-grade tinfoil hat from the Panic Brigade. Don’t be like Harriet. Do NOT attempt to improvise. | Photo credit
Anyway, I was at the meeting when that Father Timeraptor passed through the Assembly of Chosen. I was like, fifteen at the time and my mom was at the meeting. I was crushing pretty hard on this guy Gabriel so I wasn’t really listening since his parents had brought him to the meeting too. But. BUT. I remember the AoC talking about needing to replace the Temple and a few other buildings around town and being disappointed that the voting fell through. And then. AND THEN? What should show up? A timeraptor! One powerful enough to age all of Fauxhasset. Isn’t it just too a little too convenient that this raptor passed through town and pretty much trashed not only the Temple, but all the other buildings in town too? It’s almost like someone, or an assembly of someones, WANTED the raptor to age all the buildings. After all, we all know that once you stop maintaining a building, that’s pretty much just the owners TRYING to get it torn down. I’m going to let you all drink that in, as I’m on my way to the next meeting of the Fairly Elected Assembly of Leaders, where I will be voicing my strong disapproval of using out tax funding to replace anything. That would just be playing into the AoC’s plans after all. (Even if the town is now a dump.)
P.S. Apparently Gabe and I ended up getting married sometime in the last 50 years. It’s kinda weird being married to someone you’ve never actually spoken to before, but we’re making it work.
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
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.
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.