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Satireday: Local Rebel elects to “wait it out” rather than using some “new-age” at BMV

Mitch Hooper

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For Gary McPherson—former Columbus Man, now Local Rebel, currently still at the BMV—some things just don’t need to change.

“I’ve been coming to the BMV for 35 years now,” McPherson angrily explained. “And now you’re telling me I can just waltz in here using some fancy pants technology to hold my place in line? Not on my watch.”

After the announcement of Gov. Mike DeWine’s program to cut back waiting time at the BMV, McPherson said this was yet another move to make the next generation “softer.”

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“What happened to the good old days where you had to wait in line while the six people ahead of you forgot all of their required paperwork? Back in my day, we’d have to hike three miles uphill both ways just to get to the BMV. Nowadays, kids just ride those damn scooters.”

Thanks to the new app, McPherson’s trip to the BMV took an additional 30 minutes. As he was next in line, someone who had secured a window at that moment arrived forcing him back to his seat to await his turn.

“Sure, I was angry just like any other trip to the BMV, but this just didn’t feel right,” McPherson said, clearly disheartened. “I want to sit next to the person who potentially will ruin my lunch break.”

millennial | writer | human

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Satire

Satireday: Construction barrel still rolling down High Street

Mitch Hooper

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Is it simply a construction site mishap, or the work of Banksy? If you ask the Columbus community, the jury's still out.

On Saturday morning in the Short North, the quiet arts district noticed quite the commotion as one large orange traffic barrel began tumbling down the street. As members of the neighborhood flooded the streets to save the traffic barrel, they paused for a moment of reflection.

"It's really symbolic of our city," said Irene Glennon as she recalled the scene. "Arizona has tumbleweeds, Columbus has traffic barrels."

Reports have cited the barrel may have originated from the 5th Avenue construction zone, although, the high amount of traffic barrels in the city leaves this claim unverified.

It didn't take long to start a trend. Soon after the first barrel rolled down High, a second barrel tumbled down Summit. And a third made its way on Fourth.

"Get out of my face, kid, I don't have time for this," said construction worker Nick Antoni when asked for comment. "I've got three rogue barrels loose in the city."

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Satire

Satireday: Q&A with Book Loft’s Skeleton Lord

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Malamarkus, Our Skeleton Lord, calls The Book Loft of German Village his home, and, aside from updates on Twitter, is generally clouded in mystery. I sought out the Skeleton Lord himself (don’t ask me about my method of contact — it definitely wasn’t an offering of snail shells and goose feathers carried by ravens to The Pit) to try to clear up exactly what Malamarkus is all about. 

Most religions have some really strong tenets. The Ten Commandments, the Golden Rule, etc. Aside from supporting indie bookshops, what are the tenets of following Malamarkus? Also, what’s official name of Malamarkus’ religion? 

The Followers must adhere to the rules of Nothing and No One, and only the Good will be sacrificed into The Pit, the den of Perpetual Sadness. We do not have a “name” and are only bound to the Ultimate Release of Death. 

What exactly is going to happen during Ascension? (Which, by my count, will take place on Dec. 8, 2020) 

Nice Damn Try, buddy.

How do you, Malamarkus the Skeleton Lord, feel about Old Town Road by Lil Nas X featuring Billy Ray Cyrus? 

If it’s good for the Electric Slide, then it is fine by Me.

Are there any authors that you would like to extend a formal invitation to The Pit to? (pls make George R.R. Martin hurry up with the ASOIAF books. pls.)

The Followers Book Club have just started reading “Ancient Oceans of Central Kentucky” by David Connerley Nahm (Two Dollar Radio), which is Damn Good but a formal invitation could only go to Mary Berry, The Mother of Us All.

Last question: You have a few sentences to convince any skeptics out there to convert to following Malamarkus. What do you say or do to make a true believer out of someone?

Convert or be boiled alive with the other Sinners and Rat Bastards.

Follow The Book Loft and become a Follower of Malamarkus on Twitter.

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Satire

Satireday: Our interview with an intergalactic alien

Mitch Hooper

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Strangely, just before publication, the (614) offices were contacted by the Wow! signal once again. (Read to catch up.) This time, we were able to pin down the exact source of the radio transmission and translate the conversation.

Who are you? Where are you from?

I am a highly-intelligent sentient lifeform from a far away galaxy beyond your reasoning. My vocal orifice is specially designed to translate my thoughts into whatever language you need to understand—Latin, English, Klingon, I am fluent in all. My home planet was destroyed in an intergalactic war. We fought bravely and honorably for our planet, but alas our star soldier made an unexpected move in free agency during the offseason and joined the enemy. While all was lost, I am the only survivor who lives to speak of the travesties. My name is Todd.

Wow, that sounds terrible. Wait? Your name is Todd… Really?

Indeed. Is there something wrong?

No, it just seems like a highly-intelligent lifeform from a far away planet would have a weirder, I mean, more complex—you know what? Never mind. Why did you choose to reach out to Columbus?

If there is a problem with my name, I can gladly start up the nuclear converter engine and go elsewhere. This is your first interview with a new lifeform and you’re stuck on my name? Is that all you humans do? Is “Don’t judge a book by its cover” a thing in this city? Oh my globba-glob-gob, you humans are all the same. When I contacted this technologically-deficient city in the 70s, at least they had the decency to ignore me just like how you all ignored the restaurant that contained the statues of our gods. 

Gods? Alien gods in a restaurant?

Yes. We wanted to warn them of the impending prophecy of destruction by urban development—that eventually all things alien would be replaced with the sad trappings of human suburbia. But our message was intercepted and our beautiful temple was bulldozed into oblivion and became a chain drugstore and a frozen food line. Typical humans.

All right, Todd. No need to get defensive. So what’s time travel like?

Don’t patronize me. I have more intelligence and knowledge in my ninth phalange than your entire existence has combined. How dare you? I know the cure to diseases that have plagued your kind for a millennium. I’ve traveled to planets your puny machines wouldn’t last a second on. I’ve seen organisms that defy your understanding of biology. I am an organism that defies your understanding of biology!

And your name is… Todd??

Forget this, I’m calling Ann Arbor. *hangs up*

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