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The Stray Lake Signal-Gazette
"We print all the news that's fit for Stray Lake to know."
Horace Gumblat, editor emeritus
Beautiful Stray Lake

Town council OKs "one wombat,
two tree sloths" marriage act

Wilma Whipstittle
Staff Writer/Photographer
In what is believed to be the first political interference in sex within the animal kingdom, Stray Lake Town Council last week approved an ordinance recognizing marriage as a union between one wombat and two tree sloths.

Reaction to the new law was swift and varied.

"I am outraged!" fumed Gloria Hertz as she calmed her nerves at the Tipple Time. "What's next? Two wombats and three sloths? Then wombats, sloths, and giant tarantulas? If God had intended for one sloth, let alone two, to marry a wombat, he would have told me about it, and he hasn't."

"It seems to me that in this day and age animals should be able to pick their own species for marriage," said animal marriage rights activist Clovis Hoofnagle. "What right has the government to go into the bedrooms of anyone, let alone animals?"

"Animals don't have bedrooms," countered Gloria. "They live in holes and trees and piles of leaves. How can they be expected to make intelligent decisions about sex? I say it's time the government got out of our lives and stepped in to forget about legislating for animals, especially dumb animals who want to marry each other."

"What?" said Lou the bartender as he poured himself a drink.

"I'll get back to you," said Gloria.

"Don't hurry," said Lou.

"Where does this leave buzzards?" wondered chef Juan de Fuca. "If buzzards can intermarry with, say, seagulls, it might give my signature buzzard wings a seafood taste that my loyal followers would find inedible."

"I doubt that your loyal followers would find anything inedible," observed Doc Pandemic. "And I mean that in a good way."

"You'll have to get back to me," said Juan.

"And anyway, where do you get off telling seagulls and buzzards what they can do with their private lives?" demanded Clovis.

"I don't care what they do in private," explained Juan. "I'm just worried about what they taste like in public."

"What business does the government have saying what buzzards and seagulls should taste like?" asked Gloria. "Caveat aviator, is my motto when it comes to birds, and Lassie fair to you all."

"Let's all have one on the house and ask Leroy to explain the council's thinking," offered Lou.

"I think we're ahead of the curve here," explained Alternating Mayor Leroy Wertzbrimmer. "I'm not sure what that means, but it seems to be the safest thing I can say right now. I guess that effectively tosses the ball to you, Paul."

"I left my glasses in the bathroom that morning," explained Third District Councilperson Paul Boxtuttler, "so I thought I was voting to repave Maple Street."

"Don't try to weasel out of your voting record," said Gloria.

"I suppose I could use weasels if the buzzards and seagulls ..." began Juan.

"Oh, I'm sure this cradle to grave government we have in Stray Lake will next pass an ordinance concerning weasels," said Gloria.

"If it's an ordinance saying weasels should be able to marry anyone they please, I'm all for it," said Clovis.

"Question is," observed Doc, "who would perform a ceremony joining two weasels, a wombat, and a flock of buzzards in connubial bliss?"

All eyes turned toward the Rev. Haskall, who was working on his sermon at the end of the bar. He reached for his beer, looked up, and said, "What? I was concentrating on loaves and fishes."

"Oh no, that's too weird even for me," said Clovis.

"Yeah, and no one likes fishy bread," said Juan.

"Lou, give me one for the road," said Doc. "I think I need to visit the psychiatric ward at Maid of Mercy for an intake of mental equilibrium."

"And you had better get your fill of that medication before the council gets in on socializing the practice of medicine," said Gloria.

"Make it a double," said Doc.

Stray Lake

Louis Trammel made quite a sight in Stray Lake taking his morning constitutional clad entirely in the ties he has received over the years for Father's Day. He was able not only to cover himself entirely, but also fashion a hat.

The Boris Gummler Acrobats were a big hit last week at the gambling casino in Loomisville until someone triggered the catapult early and flung a water buffalo onto county sheriff Legible Thomas's cruiser in the parking lot. Lej, who was interviewing an undercover informant in the back seat, allowed he was somewhat surprised and glad he was not in the front seat, which evidently will never be the same. The informant and water buffalo wandered off in separate dazes, the informant to her regular job in the casino's chorus line and the water buffalo to parts unknown. Lej says anyone with information about the water buffalo should tell the third chorine from the left, who will let him in on it when the cruiser gets out of the body shop.

Town council has denied an application from Tom Whetsley for a permit to build a seven story chicken coop in his back yard, citing the fact that Tom is playing without a full deck. Council then denied Tom's application for a seven story deck.

"It's okay, the reindeer are driving"

It's okay, the reindeer are driving
Holiday humor and more: Santa is stuck in the chimney, hitting the rum cookies, or jumping from an airplane. Bobby Lee parties, claim jumpers can't shoot straight, and two rats own a cheese factory. These short reads are guaranteed to give you a belly laugh, for $0.99 (that's ninety-nine cents for the numerically challenged).

It's okay, the reindeer are driving

"At Love's Crest"

At Love's Crest
A romance of intrigue and spice, set against the backdrop of a threatening flood. Can Allyson trust the man she has fallen in love with so suddenly? Is he part of the danger that threatens her, or the one who can save her from it? The waters rise and Allyson must decide, as her wild desires beat against the walls she has built around her once-shattered heart. This sort of thing will run you a little more, $2.99 to be factual about it; but then it's a lot longer.

At Love's Crest

Coming Events

The Holder sisters, Millie and Grace, extend an open invitation to their annual poison ivy roll next week, clothing optional, BYO.

It's always time at the Tipple Time

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Copyright 1996 - 2014, Robert A. Markwalter

Any resemblance to any person or persons in this material should give same strong impetus to seek medical help and, coincidentally,
is coincidental, unintended, accidental, and all those other disclaimers people make when they shove knives into your back.