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.


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!”


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?”


Fauxhasset Paroder, 38th Edition: Alien Santa left out in the cold

Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

The Alien Santa was spotted actually enjoying the perpetual blizzard at Gledhill Sledhill, proving once again that he isn’t, and never will be, one of us.


Skills unlocked: not falling on the so-called “bunny” slope (did not see any bunnies T_T), mastering human hand signals. Photo credit

Someone had given the alien a snowboard and he was doing his best to learn the sport, hiking tirelessly back up the hill for another attempt. Witnesses said they heard him break a wrist, only to watch him straighten out the joint and heal himself on the spot.

At first, Alien Santa shared the slope with a horde of children, but after his arrival, the crowd began to thin. Sledders suddenly grew tired. Parents spirited their little ones away, casting wary glances at the alien in the rearview mirrors of their Range Rovers.

One little girl, however, wasn’t gone for long before she returned with a bright red helmet under her arm. This she affixed to Alien Santa’s head. She was then seen giving pointers to the man in red, and he was soon able to ride the whole way down the hill without falling.

The two then shook hands and parted ways. The young girl turned out to be none other than Dooey Lembas, spokeschild for Princess Elsa’s School for Turning Superheroes into Snowflakes and the only sister (out of eight siblings) of Shorty Lembas, who was swallowed by a pothole in November.

When asked about her actions, Lembas just shrugged.

“One time, one of my big brothers got a concussion from snowboarding,” she said. “The doctors said he couldn’t go to school, couldn’t watch TV, couldn’t read – couldn’t nothing! I know ϨΔиϮα’s a little weird, and not everybody likes him, but I didn’t want him to get hurt.”

Then she laughed and added, conspiratorially, “He’s not very good, is he? He’s learning, though. He just needs a little practice.”


Fauxhasset Paroder, 37th Edition: Sea level at its lowest since 1702

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

It’s been four weeks since the dredging team opened up a black hole in the harbor, and the shallows have completely drained following a 10-foot drop in sea level.

United Kingdom, Channel Islands, Jersey, Gorey Marina At Low Tide.

Just out of frame, Johnny Depp is demanding, “But why is the water gone?” Photo credit

While the anomaly should have no further impact on global sea levels, the constant suck of the black hole has created a perpetual space-time tornado above the site, posing a serious threat to nearby residents and businesses.

“Threat?” shouted one abutter over the roar of the wind. “This tornado is the best thing that’s ever happened to the harbor. The constant partying over at the Mad Elephant Hotel was driving us crazy, but I can’t hear it at all anymore. I’m getting the best sleep I’ve had since moving to Fauxhasset!”

“Threat?” said another neighbor in a 40-inch rant on the community Facebook page. “The greatest threat to the harbor was Ord Girdlehyde buying up all the businesses last summer. That guy is a human tornado. No act of nature, either natural or supernatural, could possibly damage the harbor business district more than he has. By comparison, this actual, literal tornado can hardly be called a threat.”

“Threat?” said hotel owner Ord Girdlehyde by phone from his winter home on the African savannah. “We are not worried about it. My staff will ensure that no harm comes to any of our guests – human, coyote, or otherwise. Our transient as well as our permanent residents can rest assured. Management is keeping a very close eye on the situation.”

Management had, in fact, served its resignation notice the day the black hole opened, and the manager in question just finished working his final shift. He was last seen throwing down a dish towel, declaring the whole town insane, and peeling out of the satellite parking lot, which (contrary to popular opinion) is reserved for employees and not for visiting spacecraft.

Town officials are just trying to make the best of the situation. In light of the curse laid upon Fauxhasset last week, damning the community to endless winter until one and all repent to Our Groundhog Lord and Savior RALPH, this tornado is the least of everyone’s worries.

The Green and Renewable Energy Group (GREG) is working to harness the wind to generate electricity for the community.

“It seems inevitable that this never-ending blizzard will eventually take out all our power wires,” said GREG, “and National Grid has already refused to make any more repairs until we get the snow situation under control. Said it’s like dumping money into a black hole.”

“Of course, it’s completely different, and we invited them to come throw some cash into our black hole for comparison – ‘For science,’ we told them. But they just hung up on us.”

If you are without power, use the hashtag #Charybdisgate on social media or send a carrier squirrel to the Panic Brigade. They will happily help you dig out, spoon for warmth, or forage for food just as soon as they stop hyperventilating in the corner.

“This is what I love about Fauxhasset,” said Town Manager Mown Tanager. “They’re troopers, always ready to make the most of a bad situation.”