NEWARK INVASION UPDATE
November 14, 2004
Our embedded reporter finally got out from under the covers long enough to sober up and send the reports we have been paying him for. The information is fragmentary, the photographs range from the frankly and uselessly pornographic (involving shots through a window of a maiden in dishabille) and the badly composed, poorly exposed and also quite useless images of someone's feet.
For those of you just tuning in, Island-life was first on the scene when Eugene Shrubb, President of the Bay Area Congress of Bums and Itinerant Transients, launched unilateral invasion of Newark, California on the pretext of finding and destroying Weapons of Mass Doo Doo in the form of poodles and terriers.
Well, that event took place about two years ago and it does appear that not only were there no dangerous poodles in Newark, but the entire invasion has bogged down into a tremendously embarrassing fiasco. Liquor store owners and the South Underpass New Neighborhood Indigents (the SUNNI's) joined with the Neighborhood Grandma Association to resist the invasion with effectiveness that has astonished the architects of the invasion, especially Brig.Gen. Colon Power, who has resigned in disgust with the words, "I want nothing to do with you lying bums anymore."
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"The roof! The roof! The roof is on fire . . .". For you dedicated readers, you may recall that Eugene Shrubb, President of the United Bums of the Bay Area, invaded Newark some time ago so as to uncover and destroy Weapons of Mass Doo-Doo (WMD) in the form of vicious poodles trained by terrierists. Shrubb failed to find and spay the infamous Osama Bin Lassie, but has persisted with an extended occupation of Newark and many are claiming that his real intention was to raid the liquor stores along Mission Blvd and export the contents. The major of Newark has simply disappeared, and no one can recall at this time if the place ever had a major or even a City Council.
In fact, few can even recall Newark itself, which was named for the armpit of New Jersey, which was named, in turn, for an unwilling and recalcitrant English Duke who resented the foisting of such a miserable gift of land in the uncivilized Americas in exchange for much of his English specie commandeered by the King at the time.
In a grand ceremony -- by the reed-choked beach, which in Newark is not exactly a spot for grand events of any kind -- President Shrubb handed over governance of Newark to Adolf Eichmann Goebbels von Negropointe, a local, so as to allay public concern at his long, and seemingly unnecessary occupation.
In the midst of declaring the end of Primary Hostilities, Shrubb was brained upon the pate from behind by a local grandmother armed with a cast iron pan. Grandmothers armed with iron pans have constituted a significant portion of the troublesome, ongoing Insurrection in Newark.
Despite the best efforts of Shrubb's Tokay Guard, the grandmother got clean away. Shrubb remains as he always has been -- drunk, addle-pated and violent. Doctors pronounced him "normal for his kind of character".
Despite this fiasco and numerous other contretemps too shameful to mention in a family newspaper, Shrubb ran successfully for reelection in a campaign fraught with lies, corruption, voter manipulation, computer hacking, hacking coughs, devious auto mechanics, revelations of torture at the infamous Abu Daboo prison, ballot box stuffing, bigotry, racism, name calling, and gratuitous involvement of mothers, Eugene won on a platform of Morality and Decent Bloodthirsty Traditional Viking Values.
Analysts believe the turning point came during a strategy session in which Karl "Butcherblock" Krove suggested they put out a story that the main opponent had fornicated with a pig on a Swiftboat in the middle of the Mekong Delta in 1972. Several campaign managers protested that such a thing was patently untrue, and as a slow grinch-like grin spread from ear to ear on the face of Shrubb, Krove commented with those immortal words, "Of course its not true; but lets just watch him try to deny it!"
In any case, for better or for what is more likely, worse, Shrubb took the Presidency, promising to unite the divided Bay Area by filling in the Bay and paving it over. He then turned his attention back to the war on Newark.
Our latest intelligence has it that the new Secret Weapon to be administered there is one stalwart Reverend Augustus VeryWhite Rectumrod of the First Roy Cohn Church of Latter-day Flagellants and Persnickety Uppishness, who has flown in from his West Texas Mission to put the fear of God into each and every one of the Newarkians. Rev. Rectumrod began his efforts to calm the storm by ascending into the pulpit, which for him is an old steering wheel that once belonged to a fish-packing schooner of the Alaska Line, and which has been mounted in turn on the deck of a dingy, yclept "The Santorum", that rides upon wheels so that the pastor and his temporary pulpit can be towed to any of those places where people are most in need of salvation or most in need of parting with their cash in the form of donations to the Soldiers of God. Standing there not unlike the Man when he calmed the furious waves of Galilee, Rev. Rectumrod held forth, hurling denunciations upon the Wicked, healing the halt and the lame and the befuddled, and urging the good people of Newark to embrace Freedom and Democracy and Morality and the One True God by killing their grandmothers.
He then extended out his hand in friendship to anyone who would take it -- and place there a dollar.
The effect of this speech has yet to be determined.
PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT
While all of us are very cognizant that the public threat level declined abruptly once Eugene Shrubb was safely elected -- nevermind those troublesome optical scan machines which favored Shrubb by 19 to 1 in their tallies -- we must consider that the nefarious terrierist Osama Bin Lassie remains at large and must be considered as Public Enemy Number Uno.
As a service we reprint here an image of Osama as he last appeared.
Notice the evil snarl, the look of imperious disdain, the scowling visage of a cold-blooded killer that lurks beneath the hypocritical turban of a holyman. If anyone has any knowledge of the whereabouts of this notorious bad doggie, please do not hesitate to call Homeland Security and talk to anybody in the Shrubb administration who has not resigned in disgust.
And on this vein, do not forget that the end of the month brings the mixed schadenfreude of the Sixth Annual Island Thanksgiving Day Poodleshoot and BBQ. We have heard rumors that the Island Blue-haired Biblethumpers Association plans on taking advantage during the assembly of gaining a few converts to the Heavenly Choir, and somehow we suspect the results shall prove to be more cacophonous than salubrious.
