By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter
[Previously at 8 Lame Jane’s]
The developer of the 8 Lame Jane’s condos appeared again before the Planning Board on Wednesday, begging the Town to lift the cease and desist order it had placed on his project almost two months ago upon discovering that units were 8,400 square feet larger than his permit allowed.
“People won’t even come for tours, let alone make a down payment, ever since you folks suggested that the units could attain sentience and eat them,” developer J.J. Henry told the board. “How are we supposed to recover our costs? This is going to bankrupt us.”
This symbol found in the condos’ basement has officials confounded. Where did it come from? What does it mean? Why doesn’t it respond to turpentine? Photo credit
From the beginning, Henry has maintained that his contractors had nothing to do with the extra square footage. He claims that the 12 bedrooms, nine bathrooms, three extra stories, and full-size swimming pools in each unit “just appeared.”
Considering that the interior of the townhomes is, impossibly, larger than the exterior, it’s possible Henry is telling the truth; maybe the rooms did appear by magic. That certainly seems to be what’s keeping them there now.
But if not Henry, then who put the rooms there, and why? The board wasn’t prepared to lift the cease and desist without a clear-cut explanation.
“Until the Town’s consulting firm finds a reason for the phenomenon, it just isn’t safe to let people in there – not residents, not construction workers,” said Chairman Blark Axelrod.
“That’s reasonable,” Henry agreed. “The only problem there is, your firm fired our consultant a month ago and hasn’t sent a new one.”
The consultant, Buster DeGost, was pulled from the investigation on December 7 after suggesting that a number of strange phenomena in Fauxhasset – Lame Jane’s condos, a pothole that swallowed a child on Achey Cedars Lane, and a possible space-time rift responsible for stretching and condensing town meetings – were all connected, and were all caused by demonic activity.
Inside sources say that DeGost’s termination was not due to the merit of his theories (or lack thereof), but to a snide comment the consultant made about the company holiday party, which was quoted in the Paroder.
(Editor’s note: Mr. DeGost, we apologize for the trouble we’ve caused you. We would be happy to print your side of the story any time you feel like getting revenge on your former employer.)
The Planning Board agreed, in the absence of a contractor, to take the meeting on the road and have a look at the units themselves. After touring the upper levels and watching Axelrod do tricks on his skateboard in the empty swimming pool, the board asked to see the basement.
Henry got cagey. He insisted that they weren’t finishing the basements and there was nothing to see down there but a mess of pipes and wiring. Interest piqued, board members shouldered past him to look for themselves. What they found explained everything.
A complex diagram, possibly of Satanic or demonic origin, covered much of the floor. There was some sort of astrological calendar intersecting with an eight-sided star. Smaller and off to the side, a familiar compass rose. And framing it all, an acute angle pointing southeast.
All of this was painted in red. Gleaming red that still looked wet. Your reporter boldly asked the question that no one else would speak.
“Is that blood?”
That’s when half a dozen construction workers firmly escorted the board (and, alas, the press) from the premises.
Outside, once the board had adjourned its meeting and departed, the Paroder got the exclusive explanation.
“We don’t know what that thing is,” Henry said. “We can’t get rid of it. We found it in the basement of the house that used to be here, but when we tore down the house, it didn’t go away. We dug the foundation – still there. Poured the cement – still there. Painted over the floor – still there.”
“We were gonna just close off the basement – keep it as utility space, serviced by the landlord only,” said Henry. “We don’t think it’s a danger. We’ve been on this project for five years, and the diagram’s been here the whole time, and the only bad juju we’ve encountered is governmental bureaucracy!”
“Frankly, though,” Henry said. “Even if the board lifts the cease and desist order, I don’t think we’re going to be able to sell these units now that this is out there.”
This is a parody. Read the original article from the Cohasset Mariner.