It's been a dreadful week in Lake Worstershire, a decaying town where all of the men are jobless, all of the women are over medicated, and all of the children have entirely hopeless outlooks on life.
Robin Jamison broke his nose last Sunday during an altercation with Rats McFeagle, the town's token criminal scumbag and street urchin. Rats had last been seen sniffing gasoline near a dumpster in an alleyway full of abandoned buildings (the economic recession has not exactly been doing wonders for the probably deserving pricks of Lake Worstershire). Nobody around here is particularly surprised when Rats goes completely fucking mental and begins attacking pedestrians for beer money.
Little Jane Fortuitus impressed the community on Monday when she won the local spelling bee competition. Her last opponent, James Fergus of the third grade, was eliminated when he stumbled over the correct spelling of 'polyethylene.' Jane will go on to represent Lake Worstershire in the sectional, multi-school competition at the beginning of September, but for now she wins both the admiration and pride of her small town and a stunning cash prize of $16. There have been reports that she was later spending said cash prize on licorice sticks and lottery tickets. (One friend said that she only bought the candy because “the useless fucks at the supermarket carded her for cigarettes.”)
Reverend Robert M. Swett was sighted near the West Lake Public Park by himself last Saturday, lying on the ground in a state of paralyzed laughter. Though certain cynics have suggested that the honorable Reverend had ingested so-called 'magic' mushrooms he had picked in the park, Robert insists that nothing illegal or immoral happened: “I was looking for some solitude so that I could connect with the Holy Spirit, and that is certainly what I was doing when the police and newspaper paparazzi caught me lying in the dirt laughing at an empty bench.” He delivered a brand new sermon the next morning at Lake Worstershire First United Church of Christ (known locally as FUCC) regarding the impending destruction of the planet following the return of Jesus Christ, which we should be expecting some time in December of 2012.
Margaret Jones had to call the police after an incident at the Main Street Shopping Center, which is the Lake's central business district and also home to a booming night life. It seems that while Margaret was going through the parking lot with her groceries, a group of four intoxicated females approached her and asked for “money for some cheeseburgers.” Margaret, a law-abiding and upstanding citizen her entire life, knew that this was a violation of town laws prohibiting panhandling. The four women in question have been sentenced to a week in jail, thirty hours of community service, and fines of $250,000 each. Lake Worstershire takes panhandling law violations very seriously (and possibly might be strapped for cash ever since everyone lost their jobs and stopped paying taxes). Said Bonnie Higgins, one of the sentenced: “This is total bullshit.”
While the police have done an admirable job cracking down hard on panhandling, they have had less success with the local string of methamphetamine producers, most of which live in the West Lake Snowy Encove subdivision. State government officials suggest that up to 35% of all of the state supply of meth could be coming from Lake Worstershire, a town of less than 4,000 people and which last saw a net population increase in 1962. Sargeant Ralph Gouschwitz suggested that “because of the heavy dependency this town has on smoking ice, it will be very difficult to eradicate the presence of dealers within Snowy Encove.” He has had to travel with a bodyguard at all times since an assassination attempt in 2007.
So anyway, that's the news from Lake Worstershire, where everyone is shit out of luck and totally down in the dumps. If you aren't tempted to book tickets now, there's probably not much more I can do.
