Doswell Writer’s ‘James Bond’ Script Taken under Short-List Option by Hollywood-Style Agent in Reno

Old Ridge Road resident and Hollywood-wannabe Julius Armentrout is telling everybody he had an original screenplay for a new James Bond movie accepted on possible option by some guy who says he contracts for agents for Eon Productions and Broccoli Films, Inc, production companies for the Bond movies.

The script, tentatively titled “Silent Yet Deadly®”, will remain under option with Columbia Pictures until 2011. Agent Wally Saltzman (no relation to Harry Saltzman, one of the original producers) says from his office inside the Cowboy Motel in Reno Nevada (apparent Bond script HQ, pictured below), that Armentrout’s script is “at the top of the short list under advisement” for future consideration for developmental rewrites.

“It’s another script, what can I say?” says Saltzman from a pay phone in the Cowboy lobby, “I shop around scripts everyday – it ain’t freakin’ precious, I can tell ya that. Who did you say you were with? Oh, wait, did you say Doswell or Roswell?”

Armentrout sees this development as a positive first step toward getting a screenwriter credit for a future Bond film. “It has always been my dream to pen a Bond script,” says Armentrout, who is positive the script will be picked up by Eon and producers Barbara Broccoli and Michael Wilson. “Once they read it, it will go straight into production, I am positive it is that good. It is perfect for Daniel Craig, and I even wrote in a small speaking role for myself, which I am sure will stay in.”

Newsfromdoswell was given exclusive rights to reproduce a short section of the screenplay here:

Silent Yet Deadly

Scene 17
Bond has escaped from a North Korean prison camp and makes his way back to 007 headquarters. He has just entered through the airlock wearing a tux.

Z (a wheelchair-bound British inventor): acting surprised
“Ah! secret agent James Bond! Smashing to see you again! I see the North Koreans left you none the worse for wear!”

Bond (lighting a fag [British cigarette] and grimacing)
“Hello, Z. Bloody commie insurgents. They had no evidence against me - it was manufactured.” He blows out a wisp of smoke before continuing. “It all quite smelled bad. Horrid I’m afraid.”

Z’s face turns white. He waves a handkerchief in his face.
“Mother of mercy, double-O-seven, speaking of smelling bad, have you been eating cocktail onions again?”

Bond:
“Ah. . .only a few. . .but those bloody North Koreans. . .”
Bond turns to his secretary and holds up his right index finger.
“Pull my finger, Moneypenny.”

©2009 Julius Armentrout

“You may notice the amount of detail I put in to literally immerse the viewer into the story,” Armentrout wags, fit to bust over the screenplay before he goes off babbling about the rest of the story, which involves an incomprehensible plot involving chickens and used tires and God knows what else.

Agent Wally Saltzman had no estimates when the script would reach pre-production. “How about bein’ a real pal and reversing these charges? I’ll make it worth yer while!” he said when the operator came on and reminded him to insert another $1.25.

Hey, if it gets “Silent Yet Deadly” made, Newsfromdoswell will gladly invest that $1.25. Does that make us a producer?

Blood Test Confirms Doswell Man One Dippin’ Dot Away from Losing a Foot

Rotund Doswell gastronome and slow-moving health hazard Eric Waldbauer has verified that at yesterday’s doctor’s appointment a blood test confirmed that he literally is one Dippin Dot away from losing at least a foot to diabetes.

“My body is at a crossroads, health-wise,” reported the gouty, wheezing, morbidly unhealthy Old Ridge Road resident. “It took a half-hour to draw a half-pint of my blood, because they had to force it up and out of my arm like an almost-empty toothpaste tube. Then when it was finally in the bag it separated like that delicious 1970s dessert ‘1-2-3 Jello’. Finally, before it could be tested, they had to skim the clabber.”

“While I usually do not comment on my patients’ health out of privacy concerns, I am willing to risk a HIPPAA fine in saying that Mr. Waldbauer is hands-down the unhealthiest man I have ever met.” Claims a stunned Dr. Mike Sheldrake at Doswell Family Physicians. “He is the Montgomery Burns of Doswell, with literally thousands of diseases, afflictions, infections, syndromes and disorders, all related to his lifestyle and diet, all hanging in a delicate balance, waiting for that one mutated cell or rogue virus to send his health crashing into the abyss. It is remarkable, frankly. One more strip of bacon, one more spoonful of Crisco, or a drop of lard on the tongue is all it might take.”

Waldbauer shrugs off criticism of his "balanced" lifestyle. “Nothing’s killed me yet,” he says as his wife Wanda deep-fries yet another slab of country-style pork ribs. “I’ll keep eating what I like and they’ll keep auguring out my arteries with a toilet snake.”

Doswell Traffic Advisory Radio to Begin Operation Nov. 1

In response to the “massive” increase in traffic in Doswell (like pictured at left) due to the opening of Meadow Event park (including the “fat men in plaid dresses” event this past weekend that drew so much indignation from the Dixie Treat Trailer Park), the Doswell town planner is debuting Doswell traffic advisory radio on AM 515 on your radio dial.

“It’s going to be 24-hour radio traffic conditions,” says Wallace Carswell, who put up all the money for the transmitter and the license. “and I have been training my voice for days to sound just like the one on other traffic advisory stations across Virginia, including that weird guy in Hampton Roads.”

When told The “weird guy” in Hampton Roads was actually a computer-generated voice, Carswell was surprised. “No wonder he says ‘Monitor Merri-MAC bridge tunnel – and I’ve been busting my hump trying to imitate him. How about that.”

Carswell claims traffic tie-ups at many intersections in Doswell during special events, including Route 1 and Route 30, I-95 and Route 30 and at Stone Quarry Drive and Verdon Road when the gravel trucks roll out necessitate the service. “I think when Luke Dubber is driving his tractor and a hay wagon at 4 mph down Verdon people want to be able to tune in their car radio and hear about it so they can plan alternate routes.” Carswell said, trying to talk himself into the ridiculous idea he is pursuing. “for example, I would bypass Luke and go west to Hewlett, then back down Old Ridge to Route 1. Sure it adds 45 miles and an hour of driving down twisting country roads, but at least I’m not stuck behind Luke.”

Carswell said that in addition to keeping travelers away from Luke Dubber he will broadcast train traffic at the Verdon and Beaverdam railroad crossings, roadkill spottings and the location of those ridiculous flimsy bicycle riders that always show up on Doswell roads out of nowhere like a cloud of garishly-dressed mosquitoes.

“Remember, that’s 515 on your AM dial!”

Long-Time Doswell Resident Claims to be Model for both Cappy Dick and Lipton Tea Man

Former Noel Road resident Billy Blanton says that back in 1959 his face was used as a model for both the Lipton Tea guy and the Sunday Comics pipe-cleaner-and-block-of-wood wizard Cappy Dick.

“Hey kids! Try for these prizes!” said the ancient and withered Blanton as he tried to recreate the magic of 1960s color Comic strip culture from the game room of the Saddlebags Nursing Home near Montpelier. His room is decorated with numerous unrecognizable sculptures made of pipe cleaners and chunks of wood scraps.

“I was a big fan of the Cappy Dick feature after my face was used as the model,” says Blanton (pictured). “It was a Sunday tradition for me to do all the activities and enter the contests, even though I was by then 40 years old and competing unfairly with young kids, but what the hell did they know, I said, and my glasses were left back at the plant after the last fire drill.”

After a bowl of potato soup served by a CNA, Blanton continued. “Funny story about how I became the Lipton Tea guy – in 1937, just before all the Jews came over from Europe and buried all those civil war artifacts, a man from the Lipton tea company was in Richmond auditioning for a spokesman. Back then I had the most impeccable moustache, waxed and groomed perfectly, and the man saw me on the street and proclaimed that my face was going to be the one to grace the boxes. What the hell does he know, I said, and refused to be photographed because their cameras stole your soul from your eyes. In 1959, just after I became Cappy Dick, That same fella appeared to me in a dream and I never got a dime from that Tea company.”

“Most people don’t know that Cappy Dick was in reality just a sailor head in a wheelchair,” Blanton continued after several minutes of awkward silence. “His body was riddled with cancer, and they cut it off to keep it from spreading. His contract called for him to keep doing the Sunday activity comic, though.”

Maybe we’ve heard enough from Mr. Blanton for now.

Tan Overboard!

Doswell Bodybuilder with Multiple Shifting Moles Finally Agrees to Picture and Interview

Plantation Road resident and amateur bodybuilder Billy Greene agreed to have his picture taken and be interviewed for Newsfromdoswell in response to multiple inquiries from the thousands of daily readers of the popular blog who simply did not believe someone would intentionally do that much damage to their skin.

“Since the ‘teaser’ article about me May 7 of this year (click here for the original post) I realized many folks might be interested in seeing the man who has multiple shifting and pulsing moles of many different colors and shapes,” explained Greene, shown here posing with his oddly augmented girlfriend Vanna. “As a former lifeguard, I can say that while I am averse to the current tattooing trend, I see absolutely no harm in pursuing the most rich, deep and awesome tan I possibly can, both to enhance my amateur bodybuilding career and be more attractive to the chicks, who I understand dig a guy who’s really, really tan and who has an animated mole cartoon projecting 24/7 across his chest and back.”

While the dozens of pre-cancerous skin lesions are not readily visible due to his ghastly distressed-stegosauras-like skin, up close he is a case study of volcanic skin eruptions of absolutely colossal proportions, much like the animations you see on the History channel of what the earth looked like 100,000 years ago. Resembling more a 30-year-old $2 leather handbag in the final clearance bin at the local Goodwill, and looking forward to a future filled with injections of dicarbizene and interferon, Greene claims he is not at all concerned about the future of his sun-worshipping lifestyle. “The sun won’t hurt you,” he says with mock authority, “Circus Peanuts, Purple marshmallow Peeps and diet Pepsi – now those are the real killers.”

The sclerodermic, statue-like Vanna was unavailable for comment, being unable to form syllables on her lips due to her most recent series of Botox injections, teeth whiteners, collagen implants and Bulimic projectile vomits, all done within the past thirty minutes. She did a good job of posing and smiling, however.

Meanwhile, Greene continues to fill his days with lying in tanning salons, working out and working part-time as an aluminum storm window telemarketer. “I hope to be the color of Dollar Tree chocolate syrup by next Memorial day.” He says.

We don’t doubt him.

Crack-Whore Snow White or Streetwalker Cheerleader She-Devil: Doswell Woman Gives up trying to find Non-Slutty Halloween Costumes

Verdon Road housewife and mother of two youngsters Linda Westham has given up trying to find a tasteful female Halloween costume that does not make her and her daughter look like “Out-of-work $4 Disneyland metal-head groupie prostitutes”.

“I went into Spirit this past weekend and was absolutely appalled at the trashy selection of women’s costumes this year,” complains Westham, who says women’s costumes’ “slut-factor” has been a growing trend over the past several years. “I could spend $56 and be crack-whore Snow White in a see-thru mini with a fur-collar bodice, or I could be a streetwalker she-devil; the costume for that one is basically a red bikini, cheap, poorly-made ankle-shattering chunky stilettos and two little red horns for $40. Give me a freakin’ break – soon we’re going to have to shop for Halloween costumes wearing a trench coat in a little back room.”

Westham claims Teen girls and even pre-teen girl’s costumes are no better. “My 6-year-old wanted to be either a goth cheerleader, with ripped butt-cheek-baring black tights, industrial-strength eyeliner and the bare midriff or the STD girl scout that came with size 2 high heels, handkerchief-size mini and an HIV-negative certificate from the health department. I won’t even go into what the merit badges were for. They even had a skimpy prison outfit for young girls called ‘Jailbait Jailbird’. I told her she could be jailbait jailbird over my dead emo fishnet-ensconced anorexic Tammie-Faye Bakker-OD-on-Quaaludes body.”

“I went over to Party City and their selection was no better,” Westham complained. “Seriously, how many variations on the trashy porno has-been alcoholic French maid costumes can there be? Of course, my 12-year-old son would die of embarrassment if I dressed up in the ‘Slovakian Heroin addict candy-striper truck stop pole dancer’ costume, so that’s a plus.”

Disgusted with the local selection, Westham went online for help. “Forget that,” she claimed, “Try Googling ‘women Halloween costumes’. You get a hundred pages of the same slutty, thigh-baring boob-enhancing nursery-rhyme-themed garbage.”

Westham’s husband Walter was equally disgusted as he perused the female costume selections online. “Absolutely inappropriate.” He said as he downloaded picture after picture on his flash-drive. “The industry should be ashamed.”

The Balloon Hoax: The Strange Facts in the Case of F. Heene

Editor’s Note: In response to recent criticism that this blog caters too much to a small geographical readership, Newsfromdoswell is proud to run this commentary on a recent national news event, written by ex-magazine publisher and Ten-High Boulevard resident Eddie A. Poe

***

ASTOUNDING NEWS BY EXPRESS, VIA FORT COLLINS! – Vast swatches of Colorado suburbs and fields crossed in 158 minutes! – A Triumph of Mr. Heene’s Flying device! - Arrival in a plowed field near Denver International Airport in the Steering Balloon, after a Passage of two and 1/2-hours from takeoff to touchdown! Full Particulars of the Voyage!

A GREAT problem is at length solved! The air, as well as the tricky science of the Biefield-Brown Effect has been subdued by the Heene family, and may become a convenient method of airborne ambulation for mankind, for traversing tricky traffic and other issues. The fields and farms of Larimer County have been actually crossed in a Balloon! And too without difficulty – without any great obvious danger – with absolutely no control of the machine – and in the inconceivably brief period of 158 minutes! By the energy of breathless cable journalists, we are enabled to be the first to furnish the public with a detailed account of this most extraordinary voyage, which was performed between Thursday, the 15th, at 11:01 P.M. and 1:34 P.M., on the same day with no known aeronauts, save for the suspected young charge of R. Heene of Fort Collins proper. The particulars furnished may be relied on as authentic and accurate in every respect, as, with a minor exception, they are copied verbatim from eyewitness accounts of the voyage.

THE BALLOON

Mr. Heene’s scheme (which was considered somewhat feasible by reputable people of science) was founded upon the principle of mylar and helium, applied and continued by the controversial Biefield-Brown theory of Electro-fluid dynamics, boosted by an electro-kinetic apparatus and transducer, The only propelling force and the mere impetus acquired from the ascent and descent of the silver disk, and this impetus carried the machine farther when the news cameras were rolling.

For our readers not conversant with the details of aerostation, an explanation is afforded. Heene’s balloon, his own design, is a flat ellipsoid. Its diameter less than 12 feet. It contained about 320 cubic feet of gas, which, if pure helium, can support 21 pounds upon its first inflation, before the gas has time to deteriorate or escape. Beneath the centre of the balloon, was a frame of light wood and plastic, and rigged on to the balloon itself with a net-work in a customary manner.

The guide-rope remedies the difficulty of ground-tether in the simplest and most indispensable manner conceivable. It is merely a very long rope which is suffered to trail from the car, and it was a failure of this guide-rope which precipitated this tumultuous escapade into the blue yonder.

The inflation was commenced very quietly at day-break, on Thursday morning, the 15th instant in the courtyard of the Heene House, and at one minute past 11, everything being ready for departure, the balloon was accidentally set free, rising gently but steadily, in a direction nearly South.

Some particulars of the ascent were communicated, however, by Mr. Heene to Mrs. Heene and two of their three children when it was claimed by one of the children in attendance that the youngest sibling, F_, breached the hull of the passenger basket and was in fact sealed inside, and Mr. Heene remanded those terms to the Emergency operator upon realization of the passenger’s status. It was nearly dead calm when the craft first alighted. It was immediately resolved by elder Heene to stop the ascension at 11:03 by informing the FAA of the inadvertent launch. The balloon ascended over the community at a rapid clip (propelled by a gentle upper-altitude zephyr, most pleasant, and admirably adapted for ascent), and the grapnel let go, which dangled uselessly. The family of the supposed interloper, and of the yard, thronged out, of course, to see the balloon; but it was with the greatest difficulty that any one could be made to credit the actual voyage – the crossing of almost 100 miles of Colorado farmland, at altitudes fathomed at 10,000 feet, more or less. Denver Airport rerouted north-bound flights as a precaution to reduce peril to the renegade craft. The device deflated partially and caught ground at county roads 59 and 2 precisely, in Larimer County; and thus the whole voyage was completed in 158 minutes. No serious injury occurred, as it was determined by Larimer County fire dispatches that the craft was empty, and no 6-year-old aeronauts present. No real danger was at that time apprehended, and the suspected stowaway was located just before supper hiding in the family’s anteroom, and never a passenger at all, despite confirmations to the contrary by a sibling. The balloon was exhausted and secured without trouble. Further intentions of the Heene were deduced but not ascertained; but we can safely promise readers additional information gleaned from dispatches deemed reliable or not.

Within minutes of landing, ulterior motives of the BALLOON-HOAX were leveled at the pseudo-scientific family. It was ascertained that a fully inflated ellipsoid of those dimensions contains not enough helium gas sufficient to lift a six-year-old at sea level and carry him at the speed commenced by the craft just after liftoff but before touchdown. Further, the tussle-haired lad’s rejoinders from news journalists drew whispers of impertinence from those critical of the balloon-story, casting doubts on the veracity of the expedition’s supposed accidental launching.

This is unquestionably the most stupendous, the most interesting, and the most puzzling undertaking ever accomplished or even attempted by men of Colorado. What magnificent events may further ensue, it would be useless now to even determine, so overwhelming of the news cycle is this BALLOON-HOAX.

Doswell Researcher Concludes Truck Stop Restroom Graffiti Generally not Accurate

After years of studying restroom graffiti Social Researcher and Blanton Road resident Joseph Wallo has concluded that the requests, statements and accusations written inside truck stop bathrooms are generally inaccurate, biased and simply not true.

“After 7 years of research hanging around truck stop men’s rooms I can safely deduce that the graffiti statements are exaggerated by at least 98%,” stated Wallo. “The statements must be written by those harboring grudges against the inflicted parties.”

Wallo found that phone numbers linked to oral sex requests tended to be the least accurate. “Over the years I called dozens of phone number scribbled in stalls to ascertain if the party on the line did indeed provide oral sex services, as advertised. Less than one in 100 answered positively – most either hung up or answered most emphatically that those services were not available, and that the statement on the stall was erroneous.”

“I also found that on numerous instances that people who are accused of eating feces do not at all engage in that gastronomic activity. Wallo (left) said as he tapped residue from his Sherlock Holmes-style pipe. “And not only are the claims of various forms of illicit sexual activity unfounded, the accused reacted quite negatively to my probing questions regarding said activity, threatening harm to myself for simply asking the question. I assured them, it was strictly for research purposes, but it sometimes did little to assuage their anger. In fact, I believe many of them are still looking for me.”

Wallo also debunked “with 100% certainty” one stubborn theory regarding those who insist on creating the graffiti. “My research has proven that after writing on the stall door or wall, the offending scribbler does not, in any circumstance, roll his waste material in little balls, as described by the old maxim. And in no case after reading said written statements, did I at any time consume those little balls of fecal material. That myth, how they say in television parlance, is busted.”

Doswell Man forming Posse to Get that SOB who Sold him “this piece of junk Buick Skylark”

Furious Ten-High Boulevard resident Wally Kimball is going door-to-door in Doswell to get volunteers to form a posse to go after Richard Alford, who sold him his 1981 Buick Skylark (left) after CarMax refused to purchase it.

“I get my hands on that punk I’ll hit him so hard when he wakes up his clothes will be out of style!” shouted the apoplectic Kimball, using a surprisingly clever metaphor as he goes through the trailer court conscripting residents to find Alford and get his money back.

Alford claims “let the buyer freakin’ beware” as he cringes in a shed behind his house on Verdon Road. “But for God’s sake don’t tell that lunatic where I’m hiding,” he whispered from his well-protected lair at the corner of Old Telegraph road and Verdon, just behind the abandoned garage. Alford says he knew the car was crap, and informed buyer Kimball of as much, but Kimball apparently let his desire to finally get some affordable wheels override his common sense.

Kimball claims Alford “misrepresented” various features of the car. “He said it had a GPS, but what he meant was people could find me by the clouds of blue and black smoke,” he shouted. “He told me that all ’81 Skylarks had two pair of vice grips clamped to the steering column instead of a steering wheel, and that the nameplate ‘Skylark’ on the back was an anti-theft device.”

Currently Kimball has rounded up a dozen or so trailer court residents who don’t have anything else to do than walk around trying to find Alford. “After I give him this car back I’m gonna hit him so hard his whole family will hurt!” He yelled, wearing the punching metaphor a little thin.

Doswell Hunter and Dog Both Nail a 10-Pointer

Independence Road resident Mark Wallaby and his dog Bo-Bo bith nailed a nice 10-point buck this past Saturday morning.

Wallaby says he plans to donate the meat to a local food bank as soon as Bo-Bo is done.

Doswell Man Frozen in Indecision Following Confusing Orders from Boss 1st Day on New Job

Flat Iron Road resident Freddy Tyler sat behind the wheel of the Whiting-Turner pickup truck behind the porta-johns, paralyzed in fear for forgetting exactly what he was supposed to drive back to the tool room to get on his first day on the job at the Rocketts Landing annex construction site in Richmond’s east end.

“I think I was supposed to go get twelve 5/16”x 20” track bolts, with flat washers and stop nuts,” said the newby Tyler, his voice shaking in nervous exhaustion, “but then again he might have said twenty 5/16”x12” track bolts, and it might have been lock nuts instead of stop nuts, I can’t remember. Jeez.”

Tyler says he can’t ask again what the supervisor wanted, because he already repeated it twice, and he was so upset at the time that the order went straight out of his head the minute he said he understood and got behind the wheel of the truck. “I already looked like an idiot this morning,” Tyler claims, “when the guys sent me on a nonsense hunt for a nonexistent tool called an electric squeegee. It was my hazing, I guess, and they had me running all over the site looking for that damn squeegee. They all got a good laugh at my expense on that one.”

The boss, a burly, loud man named Gene something, said that fun time was over and it was time to get back to work before giving Tyler the task of driving back to the tool storage crib and get the needed bolts to shore up some concrete forms. “We’re forming the concrete walls for the new parking deck, and these bolts are supposed to attach the 2x4 bracing to the forming material – and now that I think about it, did he also say he wanted wrenches and a drill motor? My God I suck at this – why did I ever take this job? What the hell is countersunk head, or Philips-head? Fine-thread or coarse-thread? This is a language all its freakin’ own.”

Tyler says while he is tempted to punch out and just go home for the rest of his life he is currently unsure what his next move might be. “I could wreck the truck and fake an injury or something,” he whines, “or buck up and admit I have no idea what he wants. Cripes, what am I even doing here? I was an accountant at my old job, I don’t know jack about construction.”

Desperate Doswell Man forms ACORN Office Just to Get the Attention of that Cute Undercover Hooker Chick

Did this man truly think this was a plan?

Pine Level Road resident Sherbert Willoughby (left) was so desperate for female attention he started an ACORN branch solely in the hopes that cute undercover journalist would visit him.

“I was advertising and spreading by word of mouth the vilest services I could think of in the hopes they would notice and do an ‘undercover’ investigation, if you know what I mean.” He said, his unplucked unibrow bouncing up and down more eerily than lasciviously. “And I emphasize the word undercover!”

Giles claims he was promoting services through his website that would make legitimate ACORN employees blush. “Without going into the gory details, I can honestly say that offering tax-dodging advice for an underage brothel was the more savory services offered by the community action group, compared to what I was claiming to do.” explained Willoughby, who offered no details on what types of unsavory services may be included. Attempts to log on to Willoughby’s ersatz-ACORN website were met with an error message.

So far there has been zero response from anybody regarding Willoughby’s plan, especially from cute 20-year-old female journalists. “I did have an old guy stop by here, asking if this was where he complained about snow laying on the power lines during the winter," he said as he sat alone in his crappy little office that he is paying $350 a month for, "But I’m just biding my time.”

Doswell Man’s Purchase of New Pet Komodo Dragon a Terrible Idea

Bullfield Road resident Sherwin Willoughby now realizes that purchasing a Komodo Dragon for a pet in an insane effort to be “tough” was a horrifyingly stupid idea. “Most people get a Pit Bull, or a Great Dane when they want to project an aura of tough invincibility,” said Willoughby from the temporary safety of the roof of his house, “I went the extra step and paid over . . . well, a heck of a lot of money to buy the toughest pet I could find. I pictured myself walking the streets of Richmond with a Komodo on a studded leash, people giving me wide berth.”

“I certainly have learned a lot about these beasts from the depths of hell since ‘Frisky’ (above) showed up from Indonesia,” he said as he scoured the ground and the niches of his roof in a desperate effort to see if Frisky was gaining on him. “For example, even though Komodos are 10 feet long they can run at 11 mph, for days if necessary. They are also ravenous meat-eating predators. When I let him out of the crate he found my 2 cats, Waldo and Mr. Pepper, in a matter of seconds. It was like watching a wood-chipper.”

Willoughby says he is “temporarily” living on his roof for self-preservation reasons. “When I let Frisky out he made lightning-quick work of the cats then disappeared somewhere inside my house after chasing me up here on the roof.” Willoughby says that at night he can hear occasional thumping and bumping inside the house. “I know he’s still in there, probably setting traps for me.”

Willoughby also admits he did no research on the terrifying animals prior to his purchase. “Did you know their saliva contains over 50 types of toxic bacteria? I researched it on my cell phone before it died. Oh, yea – even if I escape one of his brutal, bone-crushing attacks he’ll just track me for a day or two until I drop dead of blood poisoning, then devour me in two or three bites.”

Willoughby says he cannot report the Dragon to animal control, since it is illegal to own one. “But jail would be preferable to living with an escaped Komodo. I’ll turn myself in right now if I wasn’t so scared of getting off this roof.”

Doswell Man Claims He is Responsible for Altering the Instructions on thousands of Restroom Hand Dryers in the 1970s

Pine Level Resident Mike Teague has come clean with the confession that he alone is responsible for scratching off strategic letters on the metal instruction plate on bathroom hand dryers all across the United States to change the meaning of the directions.

“It was me,” says Teague, holding his head in shame outside the Hanover Sheriff deputies office, where he had just been asked to leave, “I traveled a lot for my job, and I stopped in thousands of gas station bathrooms. I scraped off the directions in every one. It was a cry for help, a pathetic excuse at comedy. I was young and foolish”.

Teague in fact produced the guilty nickel he used for the crimes, worn down to Jefferson’s nose on one side. “This is my weapon of choice, my accomplice.” He said somberly. “I could scrape off the vital consonants and vowels in less than 4 seconds.”

Teague said originally the directions on the plate read “1. Push button. 2. Rub hands under warm air. 3. Stops automatically.” According to Teague when he was finished, they read (with minor variations) “1. Push butt 2. Rub hands under arm 3. Stop tom call.”

“How many men did I consign to the mistake of pushing their own butt in a sad attempt to dry their hands?” Teague cried, “How many shirts was I responsible for ruining by men wiping their soggy wet hands under their arms? How many men named Tom Call got stopped? Dear God, what have I done?”

Since the Hanover Sheriff’s department will not file charges, and we could think of like, a million better uses of his time, Teague says he plans to visit as many of the offended gas stations and rest areas as he can, starting here in Virginia. “It will be a step-by-step atonement, starting at K’s Exxon on Route 1. And I have a fine-tip Sharpie to replace the missing letters, if needed.”

He will also go through phone books and start contacting as many guys named Tom Call as he can, apologizing for any attempts made to stop them by anyone who took his directions seriously.

Good grief.