The 24-Hour Issue (2022)

Vol. 150, No. 5

Feb. 28, 2022

140 Howe Street www.eatpataka.com

“The Nation’s Oldest Humor Magazine” or

“The Nation’s Most Humorous Old Magazine” Join us.

chair@yalerecord.com

AMBER ALERT: SOMEONE GO TELL AMBER THERE’S A FIRE! Dear Gamers, We see your pain. We hear your cries. We understand the oppression you face every day. That’s why starting this month, every copy of FIFA 22 will have a limited-edition gamer history insert showcasing the beautiful strength of the gamer community.

Dear EA,

Sincerely, EA

Corporatism is a plague with no cure. Symbolic victories will not placate us. The last game developer we shall hang will be the one who gave us the mouse cord.

When the revolution comes, where will you hide?

Sincerely, Gamers

IRON-HEARTED PROF WON’T RECOGNIZE “JAMES AND THE GIANT PEACH SCENARIO” AS AN EXCUSED ABSENCE To Whom It May Concern, I’m a reptile wrangler, and I’m married to my job. When people hear me say I’m married to my job they think I’m saying I mean I get funky with my lizards. I do NOT get funky with my lizards, even the handsome ones I don’t get funky with them, even those. If I hear you said about me that I get funky with my lizards I will go to your home where you live and put a lizard in there, and not one of the handsome ones, a mean one of the lizards, actually.

Thanks in advance, Richard

PHEW! EVERYONE YOU LOVE NOT DEAD YET

Dear Kings of Old, Does serfdom come with dental? Please tell me it comes with dental.

Hopefully, An Aspiring Serf

INTRO TO ETHICS PROFESSOR SHELLY KAGAN ARRESTED AFTER ANECDOTE ABOUT HIM BRUTALLY MURDERING A STUDENT INCLUDES WAY TOO MANY DETAILS Dear Aspiring Serf, No, chew on a mix of wormwood and frogspawn to prevent your teeth from falling out.

Best, Kings of Old

The Yale Record

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YALE RECORD The 24-Hour Issue February 28th, 2022

1 | Mailbags and Snews 6 | The 24 Hour Editorial 8 | Feature Rafferty Falls From Grace 9 | Shorts 12 | Feature Yelp 13 | Shorts 17 | Feature Leaked Sexts!

22 | News And Lots Of It 27 | Feature Answers, At Long Last 28 | Feature Rafferty Falls From Grace

Dear liberals, You guys are real liberal until it comes to “conserving” the environment. I guess we should rename you guys the “hypocrites.”

Sincerely, Jack

“SLOW YOUR ROLL THERE BUDDY!” SAYS MAN TO WIFE AS SHE LEANS IN FOR A KISS ON THE BIG DAY

MORAL DILEMMA ALERT! ANNOYING PERSON NEEDS YOUR HELP Dear Santa Claus, Cut the shit. We all know that the elves make the presents, and Christmas spirit is covered by commercials and Christmas music which start at 12:00 am November 1st. Feeding the reindeer can’t take all day, so I’m going to ask you again: what do you do all year?

Sincerely, Little Timmy

Dear Santa, What do you do all year when you’re not delivering presents on Christmas? You must have an awful lot of downtime, right?

Sincerely, Little Timmy

A WIN-WIN? YOU GOT TO HAVE SEX, AND AS A BONUS, YOU NOW HAVE A SON! Dear Little Timmy, Ho ho ho! Why, I spend all year preparing for Christmas! There’s lots to be done: making presents, feeding the reindeer, and of course inspiring Christmas spirit! It’s hard work, all year round!

Ho ho ho, Santa Claus

RIGHT PLACE, WRONG TIME: I FORGOT ABOUT THE TIMETRAVEL PART AND JUST KILLED A GERMAN BABY

WRONG PLACE, RIGHT TIME: I ACCIDENTALLY CHOSE MOM AND DAD’S CLOSET AS A HIDING PLACE ON FRIDAY NIGHT Dear Little Timmy, Alright, fine. I fuck Mrs. Claus.

Hard. We spend all day going at it, and we do it every day. I’m old as shit and immortal, what did you think I would spend all day doing? I consume twelve times the daily recommended maximum dose of Viagra and fuck with no fear of creating an accidental heir (God bless menopause). Merry fucking spring break.

Ho ho ho, Santa Claus

CATCH 22: FIRST TWENTY-ONE NUMBERS “FORGET” WHAT A TRUST FALL IS

The 24-Hour Issue Dear Section Crush, Please stop contributing. You’re killing the magic.

Best, Section Crusher

IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE! I JUST SAW AN OPTICAL ILLUSION AND NOW I’M CONFUSED

Dear Section Crusher,

Dear Ryan,

I thought the themes of conflict were really present in this piece.

Unfortunately the results from your latest test are positive. Please alert all close contacts immediately.

Best, Section Crush

HEALTH EXPERTS ASSURE PUBLIC QUEEN UNLIKELY TO SUFFER FROM LONG COVID

Best, Yale Health Dear Yale Health, Oh no! At least I have my sexy roommate and lover to keep me company. He’s already had COVID so it’s ok.

Best, Ryan Dear Ryan,

Dear America, This is America.

From Childish Gambino.

Sent from my iPhone.

NATURE DOCUMENTARY OBVIOUSLY ABOUT TO START CLIMATE-CHANGE PART

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Think there’s been a slight misunderstanding— you have gonorrhea.

Best, Yale Health

GRISLY: THIS PUPPY MILL ACTUALLY GRINDS FRESH PUPPIES INTO PUPPY FLOUR.

Obituary Correction

We erroneously reported in our past issue that Arthur MacDougal left behind a loving wife and his three children. We at the Record did not realize that Arthur MacDougal died in a murder-suicide (killed wife and kids).

FOR SALE:

Smith & Wesson Gun (used lightly, 5 times to be precise)

Rafferty Falls: By The Numbers

ETHNICITY

45% Swedish, 46% Irish, 9% Central Cambodian

Interest in sectarian conflict by Average hydration level by gender. ethnicity.

—L. Broeksmit & L. Dorstewitz Beer consumption included.

yale’s oldest stand-up comedy outlet

interested in STAND-UP COMEDY? participate in THE CUCUMBER!

performers wanted. no experience necessary. seriously, no experience necessary. you don’t even need to know how to read! (although if you don’t, you won’t be reading this.) email cucumber@yalerecord.com

The 24-Hour Issue Dear Non-Violent Crime, What’s the point of committing you? If I’m going to go to jail anyway, I want to feel the exhilarating rush of stabbing someone. You just feel so dull by comparison.

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Dearly Beloved, How do you make the magic last?

Sincerely, Wasloved

Regards, Violent Criminals Dear Violent Criminals, Yeah, I’m not as dramatic. But guess what? You need me. Drug dealing, shoplifting, those things sustain you. You might stab someone with the knife, but how did you get the knife? Yeah, you stole it. Check yourself.

Disrespectfully, Non-Violent Crime

“IT’S STATISTICALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO BE AVERAGE IN EVERY SINGLE WAY,” SAYS PEDOPHILE

Did You Know?

If you cut a banana in half lengthwise, you have twice as many bananas. To the untrained eye.

WANTED

Short man (just kidding, I want a tall guy!)

—H. Rubin

The Yale Record

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I

t is 3:50 AM and I just drank a cup of cold coffee. I didn’t feel it immediately so I had another cup, and now I feel like my brain is made of spiders. Each year, we at the Yale Record write, edit, and design an entire issue over the course of 24 hours: noon on Saturday to noon on Sunday. This is a very cool idea until it’s 3:50 AM and design has not begun and your brain feels like it’s made of spiders.

Why do we do it? There’s no easy answer. Maybe it’s for the love of the game. Maybe it’s about the sweet money we make from those House of Naan ads. Maybe it’s because the Yale Daily News calls themselves “America’s Oldest College Daily,” and if we produce a daily magazine one day a year then we can poach that title. Whatever the case, we did it last year and the year before and I hope we do it again next year. It feels right.

Everything you are about to read is true.

For the past twenty-four hours, we have meticulously compiled these records from primary and secondary sources. There really was a Mayor Eoghan O’Connor, and he really did die under suspicious circumstances. There really is a town called Rafferty Falls five miles from the Canadian border. There really is a zoo there with a single empty ape cage, its rusted gate creaking in the stillness of the evening. I had three beers earlier but they didn’t affect me because of my robust constitution. I am twenty-one years old and it is legal for me to drink in the state of Connecticut.

It is 4:22 and they’re singing “Hallelujah” in the other room. Some of them know the verses, but they all know the chorus. Will is playing piano. Ayla is doing InDesign layouts. Arnav is making sure we spelled “mutt pheromones” correctly and Clio is peppering in ape jokes. Sam’s doing one of those nine-piece jigsaw puzzles they give pretweens, and it looks like he’s struggling with it. I am sitting on an upturned recycling bin in a room that smells like trash. I hope that I don’t smell like trash, but in this room there’s no way to be sure.

The 24-Hour Issue (There’s a whole subplot in the issue about dog killing.

This seemed like a good idea as we were writing it, but now I’m now acutely aware that it is very sad when a dog dies. I am acutely aware of a lot of things now: of the time, of my heartbeat, of the inhumanity of puppy mills, the spiders. If you don’t sleep for a while, you realize that you never needed sleep to begin with, but after a while the world starts to fold in half.)

Rafferty Falls is a town that is universal in its particularity. Its quirks may not be your quirks, but gawk at them long enough and you’ll see something that is sort of yourself. Like all Americans, the good people of Rafferty Falls eat a jelly donut every morning for breakfast, and sometimes after dinner as a naughty little treat. They do not cry when they hear the national anthem, but something inside them breaks at its beauty each time.

It is 4:58 AM. It is 5:31 AM. I’ll sleep in seven hours. Whether or not we know it, we all hail from Rafferty Falls, and when we die that is where our spirits will congregate and stand in holy awe of the end of the world. The people there are you, basically. They are me.

They are employees at the largest industrial puppy mill north of the Mississippi River.

It’s 6:32 AM and I can’t linger here. The sun is rising over New Haven, and the sun is rising over Rafferty Falls. I need to go slosh more cold coffee down my throat, and then massage my temples for a quarter hour to keep the spiders Sam Leone ’23 Chair Jonas Kilga ’23 Online Managing Editor

Zosia Caes ’22 Old Owl Raja Moreno ’24 Old Owl

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away. I love my editors. I love my staff. I love everybody who wrote something and everybody who drew something and everybody who venmoed us $3 because we said we’d put their name in the issue like Truman Pipestem. I love being a part of America’s oldest college daily. The issue is a whodunnit.

When you read it in the afternoon, I hope you laugh. I hope you don’t laugh at this part, though, because it isn’t really supposed to be funny.

It is 10:49 AM. It is 10:50 AM. It is 10:51 AM. Can you solve the case before the suave Detective Caruso? Will you bargain with the elderly? Will you side with the Swedes? I can string words into sentences still but I’m having trouble differentiating the meanings of things. I will sleep in two hours, after brunch, but I won’t sleep for long because I have class tomorrow and I don’t want to knock my sleep schedule all out of whack.

Who did the murder.

Who did the murder?

It’s noon on Sunday.

This issue is a murder mystery.

—J. Wickline Editor in Chief

Joe Wickline ’23 Editor in Chief

Diana Kulmizev ’23 Online Editor in Chief

Ayla Jeddy ’23 Publisher

Avery Brown ’23 Online Managing Editor

Clio Rose ’23 Managing Editor

Joe Gustaferro ’24 Managing Editor

Joanna Wypasek ’24 Managing Editor

Adriana Golden ’24 Copy Editor

Annie Lin ’25 Art Director

Erik Boesen ’24 Webmaster

Addison Beer ’23 Staff Director

Aarjav Joshi ’24 Business Manager

Jacob Eldred ’24 Merch Manager

Rosa Chang ’23 Old Owl

Will Cramer ’22 Ethan Fogarty ’22 Sarah Force ’22 Old Owl Old Owl Old Owl

Bea Portela ’24 Old Owl

Ellen Qian ’23 Old Owl

Harry Rubin ’22 Old Owl

Arnav Tawakley ’24 Copy Editor

Luna Garcia ’23 Zuri Goodman ’22 David Hou ’22 Avery Mitchell ’23 Old Owl Old Owl Old Owl Old Owl

Marcy Sanchez ’22 Maya Sanghvi ’23 Old Owl Old Owl

Alex Taranto ’23 Old Owl

Kaylee Walsh ’22 Old Owl

Staff: Jocelyn Wexler ’22 Evan Cheng ’24 Raffael Davila ’23 Lily Dorstewitz ’24 Leo Egger ’23 Finn Gibson ’24 Jacob Kaufman-Shalett ’23 Benjamin Hollander-Bodie ’24 Lucy Santiago ’23 Malia Kuo ’24 Claire Sattler ’23 Alice Mao ’24 Katia Vanlandingham ’23 Simi Olurin ’24 Alexia Buchholz ’24 Dom Alberts ’25

Joel Banks ’25 Ari Berke ’25 Tara Bhat ’25 Edward Bohannon ’25 Lillian Broeksmit ’25 Adam Burch ’25 Emily Cai ’25 Evan Calderon ’25 Lizzie Conklin ’25

Andrew Cramer ’25 Madelyn Dawson ’25 Jackson Downey ’25 Larry Dunn ’25 Mari Elliott ’25 Grace Ellis ’25 Annette Forchoh ’25 Odessa Goldberg ’25 Evan Gorelick ’25

Audrey Hempel ’25 Rena Howard ’25 Ishikaa Kothari ’25 Betty Kubovy-Weiss ’25 Emma Madsen ’25 Jacob Mansfield ’25 Alejandro Mayagoitia ’25 Maya Melnik ’25 Tyler Norsworthy ’25

Megan Sadler ’25 Tyler Schroeder ’25 Sophie Spaner ’25 Josephine Stark ’25 Lawrence Tang ’25 Cormac Thorpe ’25 Emmitt Thulin ’25 Natasha Weiss ’25

Contributors: Pranava Dhar ’25, Daniel Blokh ’24, Ellie Atlee ’25 Special thanks to: Mother Earth & Father Moon, for all the memories.

Front Cover: Alice Mao ’24 (@alicemaoart), whose name rhymes with Palace Cow. Back Cover: Annie Lin ’25 (@anniemeter), whose name does not rhyme with Palace Cow. Founded September 11, 1872 • Vol. CL, No. 1, Published in New Haven, CT by The Yale Record, Inc. Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520 • yalerecord.org • Subscriptions: $50/year All contents copyright 2021 The Yale Record, Inc. The Yale Record is a magazine produced by Yale students; Yale University is not responsible for its contents. Any resemblance to characters and events portrayed herein, without satirical intent, is purely coincidental. The Record grudgingly acknowledges your right to correspond: letters should be addressed to: Chair, The Yale Record, PO Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520, or chair@yalerecord.org. Offer only valid at participating retailers while supplies last. The Yale Record would like to high-five the UOFC for its financial support.

Design by Ayla Jeddy

Rafferty Falls From Grace

T

BY J. GUSTAFERRO

he first thing you notice when you drive into Rafferty Falls is the town sign. It reads “RAFFERTY Falls, pop. 2893. It doesn’t require too keen an eye to notice the sign’s visual emphasis on “RAFFERTY,” which is boldly painted over some other indistinguishable word in blue. The slogan on the back reads “Family happens here.”1 After a visit to the town museum and archive, a single-room exhibit adjacent to the kitchen of the false-fronted Museum Bar & Grill, I learn that the word underneath is “Svenson,” an old family name that has many times graced the town sign. If you’re confused, you should be. The town now known as Rafferty Falls alternates between “Rafferty Falls” and “Svenson Falls,” depending on whether the population is more Irish or Swedish. And this number fluctuates based on immigration trends, ecological conditions, and the success of the Rafferty Falls softball team.2 When residents of Rafferty Falls refer to the “election,” they’re not talking about the president.3 Every year, citizens upload their genetic breakdown to a 23andMe-esque database, that calculates which of the town’s two major ethnicities maintains a plurality. At the moment, there is one more Irishperson than Swede.

This poses serious linguistic, artistic, and administrative challenges for the town, but few seem to express dissatisfaction with this clearly backward system. If you approach the people from the northern, Swedish neighborhoods of the town and ask them where you are, they’ll say “the Falls.” If you ask the Irish townies to the south, they’ll say “Rafferty.” The sign has to be painted over every year, but this at least has the function of employing the town painter.4 It also is the case that the softball team has to frequently reprint their jerseys, but their sponsor, Jersey’s Bar & Grill, is willing to pay the price.

Though I was initially dispatched to Rafferty Falls to cover the town’s annual Bar & Grill Crawl,5 dubbed “Rafferty Crawls,” I found myself more interested in the town’s namesake “falls” than its saloons.6 I should have known when I asked the local male librarian about these eponymous cataracts that I would be forced to endure some sort of town legend, which the locals erroneously call “history,” and endure it I did.

Rafferty (and sometimes Svenson) Falls gets its name from the nineteenth century’s Colm Rafferty and Annelise Svenson, two Romeo-and-Juliet-inspired folk legends who wished to be together, despite the town’s prevailing ethnic conflict. In the middle of the night, the two lovers would journey out into the Rafferty Forest7 and kiss behind the nearby

waterfall, where their families and factions wouldn’t find them. The ritual continued every night until Colm and Annelise turned up dead one morning.8 When I arrive at the waterfall, I’m disappointed. What was described—the thundering cascade of legend—is not what I find. A man, who introduces himself as the town’s cooper, recognizes me to be a tourist and explains that the waterfall has dried up.

A trip to the town’s Land Records & Survey Maps office, located one floor above the Land Records & Survey Maps Bar & Grill, indicates that the town’s largest employer, the O’Halloran Puppery, rerouted the river water to its own plant. (If you try to talk to the townies about the Puppery, you’re met with vague responses like “work is work” and “have you seen the Rafferty World Park?”9).

Before I try to find a story, one presents itself to me. Though Rafferty Falls has captured the attention of geographers, sociologists, linguists, animal rights activists, and bar-and-grill enthusiasts, the murder of its mayor, Eoghan O’Connor, which occurred the night of my arrival, captured mine, thrusting the town’s ethnic makeup into perfectly dangerous equality.

Story Continued on Page 20

———— [1]This is so distracting, you may fail to consider the statement “Family happens here,” which doesn’t seem to make any sense, as “family” doesn’t “happen” anywhere, but you can find this sort of dishonest cliché about community and ancestry everywhere in Rafferty Falls.

[2]This last cause is disputed by most experts but firmly believed by the town’s inhabitants, most of whom choose not to read the opinions of those who call themselves “experts.”

[3]Most of Rafferty Falls voted for Obama and Trump.

[4]His paintings, upon some inspection, are unlikely to find themselves at the Whitney.

[5]An assignment, which, I must disclose, I wasn’t too thrilled about, since I can’t see what our readers will gain from hearing my description of the various types of potato skins Rafferty Falls is home to.

[6]It’s worth mentioning that it is illegal to utter “Niagara” in Rafferty Falls’ city limits.

[7]Which back then was likely just called “the forest.”

[8]It goes without saying that the Swedes blame the Irish for this unfortunate event and vice-versa.

[9]This is a strange attempt at a theme park, where, instead of coming up with their own attractions, Rafferty Falls has built kitschy replicas of various world monuments, including Stonehenge, the Taj Mahal, and, shockingly, the Twin Towers.

The 24-Hour Issue

MAYOR EOGHAN O’CONNOR DIES AT 38 RAFFERTY FALLS, AMERICA — Every dog wails in Rafferty Falls this morning as we confirm reports that Mayor Eoghan O’Connor has died.

O’Connor’s body was found in the Crime Scene Bar and Grill by a drunken mob of urban tourists participating in the annual “Rafferty Crawls: A Bar and Grill Crawl: It’s Like a Pub Crawl but for Bars and Grills.”

Bailey Henson, who hitchhiked to town with her boyfriend Jared, told the Rafferty Gazette about the event: “There was this dead guy in there, and it was, like, so disgusting. And the grillkeep took a hot minute to make my onion rings because he ‘had to talk to the police first.’”

O’Connor’s exact cause of death is yet to be determined, but his body appears to have been mauled by a large animal.

An autopsy also revealed “poison damage” to his intestine, and an ear infection, though sources say that’s probably because he “got those a lot.”

Police have apprehended local dogcatcher Dog Catcher, who is responsible for municipal stray management along with his mutt-killing dog Madame.

“Town of purebreds. No room for mutts. People don’t want ‘em,” said Catcher in a statement. “I do what needs to be done. Madame too. People don’t like problems but they don’t like solutions neither. I do what needs to be done.”

Citizens of Rafferty Falls will remember Mayor O’Connor for his short lifetime of service to the town. As a

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child, he used to give tours at the Rafferty Falls World Park and write unsolicited poetry for townspeople. He was first elected as mayor five years ago.

Mayor O’Connor’s infrastructure policies defined his political legacy. A key issue of his mayoral campaign was the removal of the model Twin Towers from the Rafferty Falls World Park.

“It’s time for these to come down,” then-candidate O’Connor said as he launched his campaign at the foot of the towers. “They make people uncomfortable. They remind them of that thing that happened.”

However, some older townspeople disagreed, arguing that bringing the statues down would be akin to “doing 9/11 all over again.”

O’Connor also drew ire with his plan to divert the Rafferty River from the O’Halloran Puppery to return the Rafferty waterfall to its former glory and revive the flagging tourism industry. When asked how he would plan on moving the river, he famously replied: “Shovels.”

Employees of the Puppery opposed the initiative, saying in a joint statement, “No river means no water. No water means the big mill wheel doesn’t turn. Big mill wheel doesn’t turn, that means no puppies get made. That means we’re out a job. That means we go hungry.”

Mayor O’Connor was many things to many people. He will be missed.

—A. Jeddy

—R. Howard

The Yale Record

10 CARUSO’S NOTES Detective F. Caruso 2/27

The harsh wind of justice is at my back as I watch the sun set over the town of Rafferty Falls, a place forgotten by time, the highway system, and occasionally the US Census Bureau. But as a detective, it’s my job to remember every detail: every shoe-print in the aged dust, every facial expression worn by these red-blooded Americans locked in blood feuding. In this town, there’s been a death that stinks of foul play. Or just a suicide.

Who knows?

Let me tell you a joke. One mayor walks into a bar.

A bar called “Crime Scene.” No, that wasn’t the joke.

That was just the name of the bar. The bar is also a grill.

I’m going to keep telling the joke now. Within an hour, the mayor is dead. That’s the end of the joke, and as a detective, it’s my job to figure out the punchline. Murder?

Alcohol poisoning? Or just a suicide? The only forensic evidence? Bite marks, lots of them. Not your usual case.

And even though the case is still as wide open as the pale sky, four suspects have already materialized for me, recommendations from the local police.

The first is a Swede, Oskaar Johannson, known by friends as “Skaar Jo.” A male librarian who runs the Rafferty Falls Library and Swedish Cultural Center and Bar and Grill, seems like he wouldn’t hurt a fly. But people who know people in the know have told me that this man had a serious bone to pick with Mayor Eoghan O’Connor, and I’m not talking about the kind of bone that a dog chews on.

Speaking of dogs, our next suspect is known only as “Dog Catcher.” In Rafferty Falls, only purebred dogs are allowed, and Dog Catcher is responsible for enforcing this quaint rule. How does he do it? A Siberian husky, trained to kill any mutts she can sink her teeth into.

The Dog Catcher is a loyal servant of the public good, but the bite marks on the mayor look mightily like the thrashings of a furious hound.

Next up is “Old” Old Anders. One hundred and nine years old and the four hundred and seventythree time champion of Rafferty Crawls’s weekly trivia competition, Old Anders is a man from another era. He’s as wise as the next 109-year-old, but then again, he’s just as crazy too. After a vigorous political disagreement with the mayor only a week ago, he was missing from the trivia competition the night of the murder, or suicide. And as a detective, it’s my job to

point out that that’s pretty suspicious.

Our final suspect is Charlie Murderer, barkeep and grillkeep at the Crime Scene Bar and Grill. He claims to have been in the back, keeping grill, when the mayor died, but by all known accounts he was the last man to see the mayor. You can tell a lot about a man from his name, and Charlie Murderer’s name is Charlie Murderer.

So, there you have it. The pieces are all on the board, the players have been dealt their hands: It’s time for the game to begin. And as a detective? It’s my job to win.

—B. Hollander-Bodie

ASTRID NILSSON: DIARY ENTRY #1 February 26 They say that the best clues come in small packages, which is why I always pack light, and you’ll never ever guess what I saw. I’m coming off a big solve in the Case of the Disappearing Bike and was stumped by the Evaporating Monkey, so I’ve been on the look out for some action. I was scouting for the next hot scoop at the “Rafferty Crawl.” Miss King told me that that’s where all the tourists go to drink lots and lots of juice downtown. I guess it stimulates the local economy.

I was just about to head to The Crime Scene Bar and Grill, and that’s when I saw it: Dog Catcher’s purebred, mutt-killing husky, Madame, killing a mutt in an alleyway. I couldn’t believe my eyes and ears as the poor mutt whimpered, attacked by the other dog that was much bigger and scarier. It just wasn’t fair, and it just wasn’t just. I can still hear the squeals in my dreams. Why does our town have so much violence? That alleyway mutt had rights, but Dog Catcher’s vicious mutt-killing husky killed him viciously anyway!

There has to be something deeper to this story, something at the bottom of the scoop, at the base of the barrel. Why would a dog do this? How can Dog Catcher let this happen? What else happens around here? There were bite marks on Mayor Eoghan O’Connor, and they seemed very dog-like, maybe even canine-esque. I know what I have to do: I have to interview local townsperson Dog Catcher to gather more information and get to the bottom of this. How deep does this dog-hole go? Seems like Dog Catcher is in the slammer right now, so that’s my next stop. This is your local detective Astrid Nilsson signing off for now.

—A. Beer

Rafferty Falls The 24-Hour Issue

11 Also in Rafferty Falls

1. Rafferty Falls and Forest

Crime Scene Bar and Grille Tori Stist

The pride and joy of the town, Rafferty Falls remains the best place to visit during your stay. Tourists flock to the infamous place that shielded one couple’s forbidden love from the world, where biracial couplings were invented in town folklore by Annaliese Svenson and Colm Rafferty himself all those years ago.

2. Rafferty Falls Library and Swedish Cultural Center and Bar and Grill 15

Who wouldn’t want to indulge in 5-star bar food whilst enjoying the largest collection of Sanskrit texts east of the Mississippi? Facilities include not one, but two George Foreman grills, one extremely shriveled male librarian, and a display of Swedish cultural memorabilia.

3. Rafferty Falls World Park

Why travel the world when you can experience all of its wonders from one local park? Rafferty Falls World Park features exact replicas of major monuments from across the globe. See monuments as majestic as Stonehenge, the Taj Mahal, and one controversial Twin Towers replica.

4. Skogsfall Adult Home 5,234 Old People

A premium stopping ground for many of the town elderly. Visit this adult home if you are lacking reasons to feel grateful for your mediocre and lackluster life. Seeing the shriveled and sad old people can really boost morale.

5. Bitchin’ and Stitchin’ Bar and Grill 42 Identity

Rafferty Falls is the home of the one-of-a-kind Bitchin’ and Stitchin’ Bar and Grill. This fine establishment boasts state-of-the-art technology that allows anyone to add or remove wrinkles from their appearance. I’m not sure why anyone would want to give themself wrinkles, but it’s always good to have the option.

Just a few hours from the city lies a totally quaint, super authentic all-American town, with a totally authentic, super quaint little bar and grill. The Crime Scene is the perfect off-thebeaten-path establishment if you’re tired of the hustle and bustle of the important parts of America and want to remind yourself that an LA 8 is a 10 anywhere else.

The service at the “Scrime Brille” (as the locals call it) was slow, because nobody has anywhere to be, but that’s a part of the authentic small-town charm! They don’t have to spend time influencing and inspiring like us. While we were waiting in a super sticky and super down-to-earth booth, we got to experience a totally real glimpse into the lives of NUAs (Non-Urban Americans). We met the sheriff (adorable), Charlie Murderer (love), and the mayor (fat), who seemed super nice but was a little quiet. Later they said he was dead, which was kind of totally nuts.

The food was almost completely edible, and my assistant McKanniston said the chicken fingers tasted “homely.” But the authentic small-town stench was hard to stomach—the whole place smelled like wet dog.

All in all, The ScriBri (as the cool locals call it) is a great spot to spend absolutely no more than an hour at.

Minus one star for mutt stench. Minus another star for the dead mayor on the ground that the staff kind of just mopped around. Would totally come again though!

D. Alberts & R. Howard, design by L. Dunn —D. Alberts & R. Howard, Design by L. Dunn

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The Yale Record RESOLVED: ARREST CHARLIE MURDERER

LOCATION: Rafferty Falls Town Hall, Bar, & Grill, 3150 O’Shagger Lane DATE: February 27th, 2022, 5:00 pm DETECTIVE CARUSO: Ladies and gentlemen of Rafferty Falls. As some of you know, Mayor O’Connor is dead. As far as we know, he was last seen alive with Charlie Murderer.

CITIZEN 1: Woah, okay wow, okay.

Just because the guy’s last name is Murderer doesn’t mean he had anything to do with the murder.

I mean jeez, we can’t just be throwing accusations around left and right.

CARUSO: Well, yes, but the fact is Mayor O’Connor was last seen alive with Mr. Murderer at his business, which is called Crime Scene Bar and Grill.

not to mention a small business owner!!! You know, it’s not easy.

The government protects the rich and gives hand-outs to the poor.

You know what guys like Charlie get? Nothing. Rich enough to pay taxes but not rich enough to avoid them. And it’s no wonder it was just the Mayor and Charlie in the bar—nobody wants to work! You ever work a service job, Meatball?

CARUSO: Absolutely, yeah. Mr. Murderer is his own boss, very nice.

So as a detective, here’s what I’m thinking. Murderer was the only person there when Mayor O’Connor was killed. So by process of elimination, Mr. Murderer is the killer, right?

CITIZEN 1: Unless it was a suicide.

CARUSO: True. Ok, works for me.

(The room votes 17 - 1 to let Murderer go free.)

—S. Leone

CITIZEN 2: Yeah, it’s an ironic name? Charlie likes to poke fun at his own name, is that his crime? If having a sense of humor is illegal, then lock me up too I guess. Because I’m just as guilty as he is. It seems like you’re really judging a book by its cover here. If someone raided the meatball factory, how would you like it if we all went “ooohhhh I bet it’s detectiiivee Caruso!!”

CARUSO: No yeah, jokes are good.

It’s just that, hmm, I’m not so much concerned with the names of things, like Murderer or Crime Scene Bar & Grill. Forget all that for now. I’m just saying that there’s evidence which suggests— CITIZEN 3: Evidence? Evidence my ass. Charlie Murderer is an esteemed member of this community,

—R. Howard

The 24-Hour Issue

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belong, Ms. Detective. A man is dead, and you’re accusing vital members of the community? This is outDETECTIVE ASTRID: You’re aware of how rageous! I’ve taken care of thouit looks, Mr. Catcher. sands of dogs for this damn town!

DOG CATCHER: It wasn’t my Madame who GRAAHHHRRRHH!!! killed that man. She ain’t trained ASTRID: Excuse me sir, did you just… to kill men.

I’m sorry, did you just growl at DETECTIVE CARUSO: Is she potty-trained, me? Anyway, I have one last quesat least? tion for you… Is the dog still on CATCHER: Yes. the loose?

ASTRID: She’s trained to kill other CATCHER: I would like a lawyer before I things, then? reveal any more information, ma’am.

I need to calm down, in case Mr. CATCHER: I… I didn’t mean to say that.

O’Halloran has a dog he needs me to What I was meanin’ to say is that my go take care of. I refuse to speak pup is trained to help me round up any further. mutts.

— T. Norsworthy ASTRID: And what does ‘rounding up’ entail, Mr. Catcher?

CATCHER: My employer asks me not to disclose my methods.

CARUSO: Did he ask nicely? Say, is your employer a kind man? Or a mean man?

ASTRID: Your employer is…?

CATCHER: Why, Mr. O’Halloran, o’course.

The man is chiefly concerned with the well-being of the dogs in this town.

ASTRID: So you confirm that he banned you from describing your methods?

CATCHER: Listen here—Madame and I work to keep mutts off the street and make sure that the Puppery runs smoothly. Some might consider my methods… brutal. But I consider them effective.

CARUSO: Was that a monologue? Did you just do a rehearsed monologue?

ASTRID: Caruso, keep it on track. Remind me of your alibi again.

CATCHER: Mr. O’Halloran suggested that the tourists may be scared if they saw me patrollin’ for mutts, so he asked me to let the pup handle it by her lonesome.

ASTRID: So your dog was unsupervised at the time of the murder?

CATCHER: I think you’re beginnin’ to —S. Spaner stick your snout somewhere it don’t DETECTIVE DISPATCH DOG CATCHER

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The Yale Record CRYPTIDS OF RAFFERTY FALLS

Orang O. Tang: An orange ape. Considered generally friendly due to his upbringing in the Rafferty Falls Zoo before escaping and becoming a member of human society. Works at Pavel’s Body Shop and Bar and Grill. Invariably seen wearing jumpsuit with cursive “Orang” over left breast pocket. Most often spotted peering, gazing, surveying, and otherwise observing women’s restrooms. He’s a dirty lil monkey. Children are welcome to pet him, but please keep dogs and women outside his lunging radius.

The Shadow People: Following moderate-to-high Benadryl consumption (roughly 13 standardsize pills). Regularly spotted by the students of R. Falls Junior High, as well as Phys. Ed. teacher Coach Seamus-Mendel McShapiro.

Discernible to the human eye only as silhouettes. The Shadow People are notable for their third, slightly shorter middle leg (referred to as a “dong” by the students of R. Falls Junior High, as well as phys. ed. teacher Coach Seamus-Mendel McShapiro).

Dog That’s Bred to Look Like Man: If you see a four legged creature with the face of Patton Oswalt, that would be this creature. Escaped from puppy mill research facility F263-y during major windstorm in 1994. Rumored member of the Catcher family.

Man That’s Bred to Look Like Dog: Much more difficult to breed, high incidence of genetic error.

He just came out really short.

Mr. Meat: King of the Shadow People. Apparently once you take enough Benadryl (quantified at roughly 17 standard-size pills) while remaining conscious, you will be visited by Mr. Meat. Last reported sighting by C. Murderer in the woods on river’s east bank.

Half-Man-Half-Dog: This abomination was birthed after his two gay dads accidentally mixed up egg donation and dog breeding egg. Ugliest thing known to man, women and children advised to avert their eyes.

Sammy Two Hands: He can hit you with that left or with that right. Just a dude with two hands who thinks having two hands is rare for some reason.

Tommy Two Dicks: Brother of Sammy Two Hands, except with two dicks. Can also hit you with that left or with that right. Actually kind of a weird

dude, not just because of the two dick thing.

Pug: Just a normal pug that came out of the puppy millery, fucking ugly ass dog. Jesus fucking Christ, pugs are ugly. Holy shit, why would anyone want one of these abominations of dogs? I mean, whoever’s out here killing dogs won’t even get close to one of these bad boys.

—A. Beer & D. Blokh & J. Kilga & H. Rubin SKOGSFALL ADULT HOME RESIDENT OF THE WEEK: BIRGITTA GUSTAFASSON

Birgitta has lived in this town since 1941, when Rafferty Falls was Svenson Falls, monkeys stayed in their cages, and the sky was always blue. She is a treasured member of the community, and has brought endless joy to the Skogsfall Adult Home. She is up every morning for breakfast at 8 a.m. and greets all of the staff with a smile on her face as she enjoys her scrambled eggs and toast. She plays rummy with her childhood friends, Agnes and Nena, while the 83-yearold Doyle twins, Fiona and Imogen, watch from the side. “We don’t let the Doyles play,” Birgitta says, “we never have. They reek of potatoes and poverty.”

On the other side of the room, the Doyles stare absently in the direction of Birgitta and her friends, though one look into their eyes (three between the two of them) would suggest that they may have no awareness of their gaze. When approached for comment, Imogen muttered, “Old Benny’s really hitting me this time,” and Fiona grunted.

—S. Spaner

—H. Rubin

The 24-Hour Issue THE OLDEST MAN IN TOWN

by Karl Mayörsohn Johannson Mrs. Fjordson’s English Class Old Andy Andrew Anderson Anders was born in 1913, the same week the Berlin Wall fell. He is the oldest man in all of Rafferty Falls, and he will let you know it. So he knows the town history better than any of us. Like rings on a tree, his wrinkles are a testament to what he’s witnessed. When I went to visit Grütenpaggen Johannson, my grandfather, in Skogsfall, I had the chance to talk with Old Anders about Rafferty Falls.

Old Anders was here when the town was founded, and he says that the town is named Rafferty because the Irish that got chased out of Canada for getting the moose too drunk, and came and claimed the area for their clan, even though the Swedes were already there. Old Anders sighed and wiped a tear from his eye when he said this. His wrinkles disappeared when he started crying like the girls from class. Old Anders says that Rafferty Falls was a lot worse before it got the mini-wonders of the world because the senile folks used to spend all day awake

15

running around. But now they just sleep their days away in Old Man Anders’ Skogsfall Adult Home. Old Anders takes them to see the twin towers everyday every day at 4pm, gives them their special crunchy bread, and they get so sleepy from the food and the emotion that they fall asleep quickly back at Skogsfall.

Mayor O’Connor, who “has the same filthy ginger hair that I do,” has been wanting to take down the Twin Towers for years, but Old Anders says that would be very very disrespectful; it’d be like doing 9/11 all over again. The mini wonders of the world were created when the Rafferty Falls Swedish Heritage Society decided to recreate all the greatest Swedish wonders like the Taj Mahal and Machu Picchu Old Man Anders says he remembers exactly where he was on September 11, 2001: in seventh grade math class (he was “teaching odd numbers that day”), and his eyes were literally glued to the television. He wipes away more wrinkles.

He says that Mayor O’Connor is trying to take away the last twin towers left in the freeworld of America and if Mayor O’Connor does he will fucking murder that bog-trotting paddy.

—A. Beer

—L. Conklin

—S. Spaner

16

The Yale Record DETECTIVE DISPATCH: OSKAAR JOHANNSON

DETECTIVE CARUSO: Mr. Johannson?

You’re the male librarian around here, is that right? I’m Detective Caruso, from the police. (Door opens) Do you have a few minutes?

I think I’m close to wrapping this case up.

OSKAAR JOHANNSON: Yes, of course!

From the police. Why don’t you step inside. (Footsteps) (Chairs squeak) Would you like a drink? It’s a bar and grill too, you see, the Rafferty Falls Library and Swedish Cultural Center is.

DETECTIVE CARUSO: No, thank you very much, sir, I really won’t be long.

Let me see here… would you say, sir, that you and your wife knew Mayor O’Connor pretty well?

OSKAAR JOHANNSON: Yes, we knew him for a long time, everyone here did, really. I certainly didn’t have anything against him, if that’s what you’re asking – ha!

DETECTIVE CARUSO: Oh, no, sir, certainly no one is accusing you of anything. Say, what’s this, ah, fire pit here for exactly, if you don’t mind my asking? I just don’t know a thing about libraries.

OSKAAR JOHANNSON: That’s the bookreturn system. It’s much more efficient than conventional systems, hardly any processing to do at all. Just sweep out the ashes every few days. But anyway, you wanted to ask me about the pois—I mean, about the mayor?

DETECTIVE CARUSO: Yessir, that’s exactly right. You know, I really don’t mean to imply anything here, sir, but it sure sounds like Mrs. Johannson was spending an awful lot of time with him.

OSKAAR JOHANNSON: Not to be coarse, Detective, but we have what you might call sort of an open marriage arrangement between us, Ingrid and I do.

DETECTIVE CARUSO: Is that right? Jeez, do you know what, that just about explains everything. I’m awfully sorry to have bothered you. I’ll go ahead and get out of your hair now.

Thanks very much, Mr. Johannson.

(Chairs squeak. Footsteps. Door opens.) Actually, sir, there’s still just one thing I don’t have quite straight. Probably nothing. It’s just that your barkeep, he was telling me yesterday that you were the most faithful man there was, that nothing could take you away from the missus.

OSKAAR JOHANNSON: Is that so?

DETECTIVE CARUSO: And what’s more sir, he said that a few weeks ago…

Well, to be honest with you, sir, he said you had a few drinks here, right here at the Rafferty Falls Library and Swedish Cultural Center and Bar and Grill, and suggested that you thought that maybe your wife had been unfaithful to you.

OSKAAR JOHANNSON: Is that so.

DETECTIVE CARUSO: That you thought she had been unfaithful to you, sir, with Mayor O’Connor. And that you seemed pretty angry about it. Does that sound accurate to you, sir?

OSKAAR JOHANNSON: I guess I was a little angry then. Yeah, I was. Angry with that man who thought he could get away with anything, touch anyone’s woman, over and over again, like God never gave us rules in the first place… But like I said, we had an open relationship. That’s what we agreed to before we got married, so I couldn’t really have anything against him, even after I found out.

I mean, that just wouldn’t make any sense.

DETECTIVE CARUSO: Sir, that’s absolutely all I needed to hear. Boy, do I feel silly now. It sounds to me like I shouldn’t need to bother you again, sir. Have a good day. And I’m sorry to have taken so much of your time.

— A. Burch

Design by L. Dunn

- K. Walsh

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The Yale Record DETECTIVE DISPATCH: OLD ANDERS

CARUSO: Well, well, well, Old Anders. You’ve got yourself in quite the pickle.

OLD ANDERS: What? I can’t hear you, son.

CARUSO: Where were you on the night of the murder?

OLD ANDERS: Oh, I remember it like it was yesterday. I actually was living in Dallas then. I’m not proud to admit it, but I was the one who sold Oswald the gun.

that. I wouldn’t even care if you told me that you were responsible for the tragedy at the Twin Towers.

OLD ANDERS: Oh, you have no idea.

Anyway, I have a good reason for missing trivia that night. And I’ll explain that to you, but first, I must admit I’m feeling a little bit drowsy and dizzy and tired.

Would you mind jabbing me with that EpiPen? CARUSO: Excuse me?

OLD ANDERS: Just right in the leg.

It’s pretty easy to do.

CARUSO: What are you talking about?

CARUSO: I’m not jabbing you with the EpiPen!

CARUSO: I wasn’t asking about that murder! I was asking about the greatest political assassination of our time… the murder of Mayor O’Connor!

CARUSO: Okay… now can you answer my question?

OLD ANDERS: I know, I know. But I sold Jack Ruby the gun too, so I guess that cancels out. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.

OLD ANDERS: Oh, that spring chicken. Why, I don’t remember. You must understand that I’m very old and very feeble.

CARUSO: Everyone said you weren’t at trivia that night, and you go every week.

OLD ANDERS: Oh, son. Please forgive me. I know I left you and your mother alone when I went to World War Two, but you have to understand. Somebody had to bomb Dresden.

CARUSO: I’m not your son! And frankly, sir, I think you’re trying to avoid my question.

OLD ANDERS: I don’t remember your question, sir. Again, I am quite old and feeble. I was the one who gave Al Capone syphilis.

CARUSO: With all due respect, sir, I don’t care if you did all of

OLD ANDERS: Fine, I’ll do it myself.

(Old Anders stabs himself with an EpiPen) Ah, much better. I feel like a little boy again! Except now women can vote.

OLD ANDERS: I’m sorry, who are you? pause Wait a damn minute, you’re not fooling anyone! I know your secret.

CARUSO: What are you talking about?

OLD ANDERS: I know you’re a “friend of Mussolini”!

CARUSO: Huh?

OLD ANDERS: You’re a goddamn meatball!

CARUSO: Oh, wow, let’s not make this about race. At least I’m not a Swedish meatball.

OLD ANDERS: That’s it! You’ll pay for this. The Allies will prevail!

CARUSO: Okay, I’ve had enough of you.

This is a waste of my time- you could never kill the mayor, and I have to go to church.

OLD ANDERS: Oh, go suck up to the Pope! Have fun in hell, Goombah!

—K. Walsh

The 24-Hour Issue EXCERPTS FROM OSKAAR JOHANNSON’S DIARY February 2 Today blew chunks. In the morning, I reorganized the library in my role as a male librarian. I’ve never trusted the Doobie Decimal System; it’s all numbers, where’s the decimal? I prefer a more straightforward approach. I’m almost done shelving the books in alphabetical order by first word.

Anyways, I got tired and decided to go for a walk. I went down O’Shagger Lane, walked a lap around the World Park, and then ended up where all roads lead in this town— Rafferty Falls. With all the water diverted towards the O’Halloran Puppery, the cataracts of the falls are thin and you can see the rock formations behind them. But today, I noticed a dark, fat, Irish shape moving behind the thin stream of water. I walked closer, wondering if maybe the Dog Catcher was back there, but then I saw something much worse.

With my own two eyes, I heard Mayor O’Connor swapping spit with my beautiful wife Ingrid. This hurt worse than the time I caught my hand in the grill at my bar and grill. During all twenty years of our marriage, I’ve been true to her, and she bore my only son, Karl Mayörsohn Johannson. Now that I think about it, she probably named him Mayörsohn because he may be the mayor’s illegitimate son.

I want to kill Mayor O’Connor.

February 3 I’m going to do it. I have to earn back my wife’s honor.

I read about an ancient Ayurvedic poison today in one of my favorite Sanskrit texts. (It was easy to find because I have reshelved the books in order of most Ayurvedic to least Ayurvedic in my role as male librarian.) The poison is called plumeria and it kills the target through violent dysentery.

The next time that Mayor O’Connor has his afternoon coffee at the Rafferty Falls Library and Swedish Cultural Center and Bar and Grill, I am going to spike it with a lethal concentration of plumeria. I want to send his McAss to McHell.

Adjö, förlorare.

February 4 Apparently the lethal dose of plumeria must be higher than I thought. Mayor O’Connor spent a thunderous hour in the bathroom but is still alive. Perhaps I needed more for a man of his tremendous Irish weight.

19

February 6 How much plumeria does it take to kill a man? He’s still alive and treating my smoke show wife Ingrid like his personal playground.

February 20 I’ve put half a drop of plumeria in O’Connor’s coffee every day for the past two weeks and he still lives. Gee, I wonder if the Irish are hereditarily immune to the stuff. I must consult the Ayurvedic texts, but I can no longer find them because I have reshelved the books in order of font size in my role as male librarian.

February 26 I know she’s still kissing him, and as long as they kiss, I will try to kill him. My critically acclaimed wife Ingrid came in this morning smelling like some sort of dog. I’m going to confront her about it this afternoon.

(Later on February 26) Oh man, here I go forgetting things again! During the confrontation, my lush wife Ingrid reminded me that we agreed on having an open marriage twenty years ago.

Phew, what a relief! I am so relieved that we are just nonmonogamous, not broken. Close one! islikeholding Art a gunto alittle–– A. Golden

o.it g

OTHER PEOPLE IN RAFFERTY FALLS from the Antitest protesters Traveler Who’s “Just Passing Through” MAYOR OCONNOR Disgraced Local Hero Sweatshop Kids Mexican-American War Reenactors The Town Butler Steve Buscemi Look Alike Mail Order Bride from Oregon Girl Scout Troop 851 Disgraced Local Hero’s Parole Officer Bar and Grill Workers Union President The Council of North American Gondoliers —Staff proposannaRecovered

i

ÉunatDowellantizan

w

ii

iii

Rarefootageof all theprotest

—V. Shah

The Yale Record

20

PRESS RELEASE: “NUDIST RENT” MUST GO ON (Sponsored by Ryan O’Halloran) The show must go on. Never has that expression been more tested than with the trials and tribulations of Rafferty Falls High School’s production of a nudist reinterpretation of the Tony-Award winning musical Rent. The proposal was initially met with resistance from the PTA, due to the musical’s mature subject matter, but the proposal’s creativity swayed the hearts and minds of Rafferty Falls parents association, and the show was greenlit. The high school, having only integrated in 2019, was looking for a community-building production that the student body could rally behind.

Principal O’Shaughnessy proposed that spreading the message that under their clothes Irishmen and Swedes are not all that different, and that both Irishmen and Swedes can contract HIV, will foster a cohesive and accepting high school community.

Unfortunately, sailing was not smooth for the creative team, as budget issues soon arose, and production was halted one again. Despite the hours of practice that the artistic hopefuls put into rehearsals, the title soon became ironic as the theater department was unable to even rent a set. Luckily, town hero and Olympic gold medalist Ryan O’Halloran stepped in and offered to fund the production out of his own, deep but unsuspicious pockets. Students at Rafferty Falls High have voiced their appreciation and plan to express their utmost gratitude to the O’Halloran Puppery CEO by inviting him to speak at opening night on February 28th and receive an honorary G.E.D. Rent will be showing through March 7 in the Rafferty Falls High auditorium. Director Truman Pipestem is currently in talks with a legal team regarding a chestup recording of the performance for out-of-town family members and theater enthusiasts worldwide.

—C. Rose

o.it g Art

is likeholding

a gunto alittle

proposannaRecovered from

the Antitest protesters

MAYOR OCONNOR

—V. Shah

ASTRID NILSSON: DIARY ENTRY #2 February 27 I finally got to interview Mr. Catcher, but for every answer I had three new questions.

People are saying that just because the mayor had chunks bit out of him, and the Dog Catcher has a pet dog that is trained in murder, this is an open-and-shut case.

But after speaking to the accused, I’m not convinced.

I’ve seen Madame around town since I was a little girl, and she’s a good girl! Sure, she’s trained to hunt down mixed-breeds and viciously rip them limb from limb, but she has that little spark in her eyes. And if you walk up to Mr. Catcher when he’s walking her and ask to pet her, she’ll roll over and let you scratch her tummy. Why would she hurt a human? I needed to find her and get answers.

———— Turns out, it’s not so hard to track down a giant dog that kills other dogs. Going around the neighborhood asking if anyone’s seen anything, I spotted a golden retriever limping down the street trailing blood. Instantly, I sprung into action. I raced past the dying, wailing animal and followed the trail back to the woods, where I found Madame sniffing around near the river, her mouth dripping from her most recent kill. Well, probably a kill. I didn’t stick around to see if that golden retriever made it, or try to help it, or even call anybody, but things were looking dire. Like, really dire. I could barely even make out a face. Even if it does live, who knows if life will ever be the same?

I followed Madame downstream for a while, and it led me to the O’Halloran Puppery. But why? And how would I get in?

———— Turns out it’s not hard to break into O’Halloran’s Puppery. The windows were open, but that didn’t even matter because the front door and all of the internal doors were all propped open as well with a whimpering mutt, including one set of double doors that I sensed harbored a deep secret. The sign next to it read “TOP SECRET: DO NOT PROP OPEN UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.” The sign below that read “BUT IF YOU DO, USE A DOG.” I opened the door and Madame immediately bolted down the hallway of what I can only describe as Mr. O’Halloran’s super creepy, definitely illegal, secret dog laboratory.

We’re talking mutt heads grafted onto bodies of other

The 24-Hour Issue mutts, mutt heads grafted on top of other mutt heads, even human heads grafted onto mutt bodies. I saw a dog that was genetically engineered to look exactly like Tom Holland, except if he were a dog. Another one had basically all of its body parts replaced with cybernetic parts except for a fully original dog tail. There were artificially-alive monstrosities floating in giant vats with tubes hooked up to them, and I couldn’t tell if they were sucking fluids out of the dogs or pumping fluids into them. The room sounded like a cacophony of whirring machines, sizzling chemical brews, and most of all, the ghastly cries of tortured animals. I’m only twelve, but I think I’m traumatized for life from all of the fucked up — and again, I’m twelve so I don’t really even use words like this — fucked up shit I saw. I don’t even want to get into it any more.

At the moment, I didn’t have time to process this potentially life-altering trauma I had just experienced: I had come upon the clue that just might explain everything. Since we had entered the lab, the dog-catcher’s dog had been clawing at a giant tub. The label on the tub read: “MUTT PHEROMONES.” — A. Brown

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OLD ANDERS: REVEALING MY TRUTH To the residents of Rafferty Falls, I write this letter with deep apologies. It has come to my attention that the community, my own beloved Rafferty Falls community, has no longer stuck to their values of honesty and integrity and has accused me of murdering our beloved mayor. As much as I resented that man’s harsh Benadryl regulation and his disrespectful attitude towards the removal of the World Park Twin Towers, I did not kill this man. I know many of you haven’t come to my defense due to my lack of an alibi so after much scrutiny, here it is: I was at Svurker Sköl’s Bitchin’ and Stitchin’ Bar and Grill getting my wrinkles added.

I am not in fact 109, but am 30 year-old with heavily wrinkled skin. And you fools believed it, too! Don’t even try to deny it. Anyway, since the Benny has made you all essentially rocks, here are some questions you might have.

Does this mean you didn’t do it?

Correct.

Who are you really?

Wilfred Anderson. Proud ΑΦΔ brother. Former suntan enthusiast that walked into Skogsfall Adult Home and struck up a deal with my pal Birgitta.

Is a two-way solution the way forward?

I have no idea please stop asking me.

Do you have any regrets?

Only that dumbass kid Karl knocking over my Benadryl operation. And maybe not going after that damn ape when I had the chance.

What?

Anyway, I hope being 30 doesn’t change your view on me and I hope this letter clears some things up for you and my exoneration. I’d once again apologize on behalf of you to me for being judgemental psychos, and I do not accept the apology.

Godspeed and God Bless America, Old Anders

—S. Spaner

—E. Calderon

Weekly News for the Greater Rafferty Falls area since 1945

RAFFERTY FALLS, AMERICA •

Sponsored by O’Halloran Puppery: “Purity - Puppery - Promissory”

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 27TH • VOL. LXVIII, NO. 5 • www.raffertygazette.ru

Pro-AndAnti-TestProtestorsPutCrawlToTest versial “puppies are better alive” sign showed me a gruesome dead puppy The crawl was in full corpse she had tattooed force by the time I had on her upper thigh. When arrived. The huddled asked about her motive masses, freshly off a bus and placement, she refrom the big city, were plied gravely, “so I never clearly yearning for drink ever forget what they put and Swedish meatballs, the puppies through…” plotzing from one bar Then she cocked her and grill to the next. head, “and it’s kind of One almost wouldn’t sexy, don’t ya think.” notice the fierce protest On the other side of on the steps of the Raf- the picket line, stood the ferty Falls Town Hall and pro-testing protesters, Bar and Grill occurring the perfect picture of the concurrently with the blue-collar worker you Crawl. use as anecdotes but nevThe crowds moved er actually exist in real in three distinct groups: life. They all looked tired, the anti-test protes- really tired, but also retors (anti-animal test- ally angry. ing tourist-activists), the All were employees pro-test protesters (pup- of O’Halloran’s Puppy mill employees fight- pery, ranging from the ing for their livelihood), janitors to insemination and the Rafferty Crawl- staff. The protestors all ers. Crawling was a seri- held buckets, like the ous business in Rafferty ones toddlers fight over Falls, prime time for so- at the beach. When asked cial activism. if they were planning on The anti-testers challenging the anti-teswere out in full force. A ters to a sandcastle conwoman holding a contro- test, they all cackled.

BY ODESSA GOLDBERG STAFF REPORTER

The mood changed when Mayor O’Connor strode onto the scene. “Enough, let’s take this down a notch fellas.” He waved his arms around. But before he could get another word out, the protesters catapulted their little buckets in his direction, drench-

ing the mayor. The woman with the tattoo spat out: “If you want the river so bad, you can have it!”

The protesters set down their buckets and dispersed from the scene, leaving the mayor sputtering. Some water ricocheted onto the shoe of

Detective Astrid.

I handed him my tweed handkerchief before asking for a quote.

But he just sputtered and joined the Crawlers on their way to the Crime Scene Bar and Grill.

ISIS Takes Credit For Mayor’s Murder

BY LARRY DUNN STAFF REPORTER RAQQA—On the night of February 26th, Islamist militant jihadist group ISIS claimed responsibility for the murder of Rafferty Falls Mayor Eoghan O’Connor in a statement broadcast on al-Hayat.

The report claims, “Under cover of darkness, [their] operatives carried out a swift attack against a major American leader.”

In addition, the group provided justification for the purported attack: “As long as the masses keep their eyes closed to the depravity

of O’Connor and others like him in the West, we will continue our necessarily violent campaign against their infidelity.”

Detective Frank Caruso approached the news about the topic, stating, “the local police are taking this report extremely seriously, and we will not rest, we

will leave no stone unturned, until we determine the legitimacy of this claim beyond a reasonable doubt. Alright, well I’m starving. Anyone want to grab a bite to eat?”

It is unclear why the Salafist Jihadi group would choose the mayor of a rural Middle Ameri-

can town as the figurehead of Western secularism, and they have not identified their supposed operatives.

Local man Edvard Eriksson said about the attack, “Yeah, ISIS definitely didn’t do it. But the IRA? I’d look into those folks.”

NEWS

“I think it’s unlikely that I will ever be murdered. But hey, who knows what the future holds.”

MAYOR EOGHAN O’CONNOR 2/25

O’Halloran Puppery CEO Ryan O’Halloran Speaks Out Against Rafferty River Diversion

BY ANDREW CRAMER STAFF REPORTER

I, Ryan O’Halloran, CEO of O’Halloran Puppery and Olympic gold-medalist, write today to address my fellow inhabitants of Rafferty Falls. We are a small town, but we are a proud one.

We stand for all that is good and right in this world.

Or at least I thought we did.

Mayor Eoghan O’Connor’s push to divert the Rafferty River back to its original path has gone on long enough. This is madness. It simply cannot stand. It reminds me of when Gordie Tremblant tried to beat me out for the gold in cross-country skiing in the 1980 Olympics. While he hung close for a while, I eventually gathered the strength to blow past him.

We must now gather our collective strength and do away with this proposal.

The Falls themselves may be an integral part of our past, but do you really believe that they are more important than my Puppery, the economic heart of this town? The Falls are the past, the Puppery is forever!

The Falls covered up an af-

fair long ago before Rafferty Falls was even incorporated. Need we preserve a hideout for Swedish seductresses and their victims?

Instead, let us keep the river where it is because things are great as they are.

Mayor O’Connor is no enemy of mine. He’s a good Irish family man. I respect him. But let me speak firmly when I say that his plan is a disgrace to our town’s good name, which, though it mentions “Falls,” doesn’t mention that the “Falls” are active.

He’s undoing what we’ve achieved? For beauty? That’s noble but antiquated. And just one of many skull-brained moves in a pattern of destruction. We all remember the tower incident.

We need a new leader. Our mayor has lost sight of what is truly best for the people of this town. That’s just plain wrong, and that’s coming from a plain man. Sure, I have an Olympic gold medal thanks to my dramatic victory over Canadian favorite Gordie Tremblant, but that hasn’t changed me.

Join the fight for our future!

Don’t redirect the River. God bless, and God bless our troops.

Dog Shortage? Dogs Found Dead

BY HARRY RUBIN & DANYA BLOKH STAFF REPORTERS The puppy mill industry has hit an unprecedented lull as suspicious dog deaths are at an all time high this week.

Remains of beagles, bulldogs, and boxers have littered the alleys of Rafferty Falls all month, but this week saw a

new high in canine fatalities.

Just this morning, a pile of poodle was found in the alley behind the Catcher-Murderer household, home of local gay couple Dog Catcher and Charlie Murderer.

“It was heartbreaking,” Charlie Murderer told us. “I walked into the alley to take care of some of that busi-

ness, ya know, and there they were, them fluffy little balls of happiness, dead and just stacked on top of each other, riddled with all sorts of medieval-weapon wounds and gun-shots…”

“I really don’t know what the future of Rafferty Falls looks like, if I’m being honest,” said Dog Catcher,

Birthday of the Day!

Happy 14th birthday Dog Murderer! Dog is the son of Dog Catcher and Charlie Murderer, the town gay couple. Mr. and Mr. Catcher and Murderer have a message for their son: “What a fine young dog man you’ve grown into! Shades of

both your dad and dad in you!

We love you Dog!” The public birthday party will be held at the local pound.

Theme is pestilence. Everyone is expected to bring a gift, suggested value $4. Please no dog poison, medieval weaponry,

standing behind Mr. Murderer and shaking his head.

“I’ve been milling puppies for years, and I’ve never seen a crisis this bad. I don’t know when I can retire at this point, to be honest.” The two men were holding hands.

“We can’t even afford our son a birthday present,” Charlie Murderer said,

The Ape Is Still Loose. Be On The Lookout For The Ape. It May Be Dressed As A Man. Do Not Be Deceived.

The Mayor Has Been Murdered. This Isn’t Front Page News, But We Thought It Was Worth Mentioning.

MURDER

LIFESTYLE

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APE UPDATES

or guns; Dog already has enough of those at home as is. You may bring a +1. You can bring a +2 or +3 if they are all girls (per Dog’s request). RSVP recommended, but not required.

—H. Rubin

breaking into tears. “We love our little boy, no matter what.”

Their disgusting son, Dog Murderer, who stood by wearing a shirt smattered with clumps of fur and red stains, made no comment.

Wrinkle Emporium Unveils Deeper Wrinkles! A Modern Medical Miracle!

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ANOTHER INTERVIEW WITH CHARLIE MURDERER After new evidence surfaced suggesting Charlie Murderer killed Mayor O’Connor, Detective Caruso brings him in for interrogation.

CARUSO: Mr. Murderer, thanks for coming in. First of all, this is just a formality. Procedure for when new evidence comes in, really.

CHARLIE: (Innocently) Yeah, totally. How are your folks? I’m happy to answer any questions.

CARUSO: Thanks man, yeah they’re good. From what I hear from your friends in the town hall, you’re a pretty good guy. And my mom was a waitress, so, well, I get it.

Here’s my understanding of what happened that night: at 2:15 in the morning, Ingrid Johannson, the town floozy — CHARLIE: Town bicycle.

CARUSO: Right. The town bicycle is at your bar, the Crime Scene.

Says you were bartending, says when she left, it was just you and Mr. O’Connor up front. Charlie, were there any other employees there that night at the Crime Scene Bar & Grill?

CHARLIE: Nope, just me. I keep bar.

I keep grill. Nobody wants to work.

CARUSO: So I hear. Now, as a detective, I’m deducing that you two were alone. It’s 2:16, and three people from the big city report hearing Mayor O’Connor shout, “Ahhhhh Charlie, you’re killing me!!!”

CHARLIE: Sounds right.

CARUSO: Then the three of them came into your bar and saw O’Connor’s bloodied corpse lying on the ground. I can’t help but assume that the murder took place within

these few minutes. So Mr. Murderer, as a detective, I have to ask, did you kill O’Connor?

CHARLIE: (Non-Murderously) Can’t say I did.

CARUSO: If you didn’t, then who did?

CHARLIE: Don’t know, wasn’t there when he died.

CARUSO: Then where were you at the time of the murder?

CHARLIE: Keeping grill.

CARUSO: Listen, Charlie. You seem like a straight shooter to me. So let me just ask you one question.

If Mr. O’Connor was the only customer, and you were the only employee, you were the only people there. And Mrs. Johannson didn’t see anyone else go into the restaurant. So you were the only person who could have killed him, yet you claim you didn’t. Which leads me to think either you’re lying, orCHARLIE: or suicide.

CARUSO: Exactly.

Caruso and Charlie Hang Out — S. Leone AFFIDAVIT FROM TOWN AESTHETICIAN

Everyday I go into the workplace that I dreamed into existence, Bitchin’ and Stitchin’ Bar and Grill, with the goal of making all the uggos in town a little less uggo. Everyone knows beauty is work, and here in Rafferty Falls, it’s my work. This town is chock-full of disgusting people, but the rare chiseled chin, high cheekbone, and elegant pinky finger you see is my work. Svurker Sköl’s wörk!

But you came here asking about my patients and I’ll get to the point. There’s been a murder, and my thoughts, memories, hopes, and experiences are crucial to informing you about your suspects. My work suits many needs. People’s faces need to match their souls. Some souls are old, rumpled, and worn, like a used tissue. For those faces I add folds, deepen cavities, and paint the beautiful strokes of age. Here at Bitchin’ and Stitchin’ and Bar and Grill, we are user-oriented, making sure every client is served fresh hot Burgerström and Friesströms

The 24-Hour Issue with Ketchupströms before their operations.

Old Anders is a regular here! He turns up weekly for Wrinkling Addifications. Adding wrinkles, while not quite as popular as removing them, is an intimate process between an aesthetician and patient. His face started smooth and fresh–a ripe mango before I got my paws on it. I hold his supple face gently in my hands and carefully carve out each extra crease. I pleat that beautiful forehead till it looks as scrumptious as a Myrobalan Prune and I can barely keep myself from sucking on it.

But by far the regularest of my regulars is the one and only Dog Catcher. Dog Catcher comes by twice a week to relax under my ministrations. I shave off the copious, thick hair that seems to grow all over that muscled body. I scrape up and down his sculpted hunches and stony pecs with deft hands. Did you know Dog Catcher originally had an extra appendage- a tail of sorts- above his rock-hard buttocks? I spent days carefully sanding down that nub till that area was smooth as glass. His ears were oddly large and floppy, but I solved that problem quickly with some strong glue and days spent gazing down at his sexy head.

So, next time you look in the mirror and hate what you see, come on down to Bitchin’ and Stitchin’ Bar and Grill. Come forth and let me chisel beauty from your hideous form (not covered by insurance but Burgerströms are half-off with Wrinkle Addification).

—N. Weiss CHALLENGE: COULD YOU BEAT OLD ANDERS AT CRIME SCENE BAR AND GRILL TRIVIA NIGHT? At 109 years young, Old Anders is the oldest man in town, so he knows its history inside and out. Can you unseat him as town Trivia Champion? Try your hand!

At which local Bar and Grill can you receive wrinkle constructive surgery? a. Bitchin’ and Stitchin’ Bar and Grill b. Crime Scene Bar and Grill c. Rafferty Falls Library and Swedish Cultural Center and Bar and Grill What clean energy source powers O’Halloran Puppery? a. A water wheel

b. Irish pride c. The Dog Catcher’s burly arms and can-do attitude In June 1978, how many golf balls could Old Anders fit in his mouth? a. 1 b. 4 c. 5 During Rafferty Falls’ founding, who kissed behind the waterfall? a. Annaliese Svenson and Colm Rafferty b. Two Dutchmen c. Two dogs What is the political makeup of Rafferty Falls? a. Obama-Trump voters b. Romney Republicans c. Romney Democrats In June 1978, how many golf balls did Old Anders choke on? a. 1 b. 6 c. 8 How does Town Hall mitigate Irish-Swedish tensions? a. By renaming the town to reflect the current most populous ethnicity b. By appointing diversity liaisons to encourage mutual cultural understanding c. By hosting hybrid Catholic-Lutheran Three Kings’ Day services Which of these Friendly Faces of Rafferty Falls does not operate a Bar & Grill? a. The Town Ourang-Outang b. Charlie Murderer c. Svurker Sköl What is the Dog Catcher’s least favorite food? a. Chocolate b. Lutefisk c. Boiled cabbage If you answered mostly “a”s: You’re mostly correct! These answers were correct.

If you answered mostly “b”s or “c”s: You’re mostly incorrect!

These answers were lies.

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As I look out the window at this downtrodden town, all I can think of is its doomed name. Rafferty Falls.

Rafferty fell? Fell from what? Old Rafferty fell from the waterfall that bears his name, but his town seems to have fallen from much worse. From grace? Perhaps. And perhaps this town hides a murderer in its midst. But, where there are murderers, there are detectives, and where there are detectives, justice runs its course.

The people of this town have told me stories. The ground I stand on hides the truth of what happened to O’Connor on this fateful night. And, reader, as I step back through the past, I fear I am just as confuddled as I was when I began.

Our tale starts with Old Anders: antihistamine heathen, trivia king, oldest man in town. Could the man hellbent on stopping the demolition of World Park’s towers possibly have been brought to murder? Could his mysterious absence at the time of the crime be insidious?

Signs point to no. He may have sold Lee Harvey Oswald the gun, but the statute of limitations for such a crime is unyielding, and he is no spring chicken. The man he once was has been reduced to a Benadryl-dependent shell.

Speaking of absence, Oskaar Johannson has been experiencing a bit of that himself: an absence of his wife in his bed. Could her infidelity have led to a crime of passion? Signs point to no. He told me so himself, and he seems like a straight shooter.

It’s time to point out the elephant in the room. Charlie Murderer. What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, would it not smell as sweet if it were called “murderer”?

Are we to believe that a man cannot rise above his fate? Is every “Smith” a metalworker? Every “Fisher” at the harbor? Charlie may have owned the bar, hell, he may have been in the bar, when O’Connor was murdered. He may have been accused by the mayor of “killing him,” but are we to believe that the man could not resist destiny? Signs point to no: he told me so himself.

And finally, we have the dogcatcher. The bite marks on O’Connor’s cold, dead body do not lie: the man was mauled. And only one person in this town has the power of the canine. Could it be that this man chose to wield it against the mayor? Signs point to no. He was not with his husky at the time of the crime.

Reader, tell me, what does this picture tell us? When all signs point to no, what must the answer be? My powers of deductive reasoning leave only one stone unturned: suicide. And you may ask, how do we explain the bitemarks? The poison? Reader, I have been in this business long enough to know that the twisted mind is capable

of anything. And in this case, anything is being purposely mauled by dogs, and purposely poisoning oneself. There is no other explanation, nothing left to add to the picture. In this case, the murderer was the victim, and the victim turned out to be bigger than just O’Connor himself. Here, the whole town suffered. But, Rafferty Falls can sleep tonight knowing that this case is officially closed.

– D. Kulmizev THE TOWERS FALL In an accident this past Thursday, male librarian Oskaar Johannson’s son Karl Mayörsohn Johannson revealed a 400lb stash of Benadryl inside the Left Tower of the World Park Twin Towers. Johannson was pushed down a hill overlooking the monument by one of his classmates and careened into the 18-foot tower. The monument swayed and collapsed, leaving a pile of burlap sacks overflowing with boxes of Benadryl pills.

Following relatively recent efforts from town officials to integrate Swedish and Irish education, certain Swedish students crossing Main Street to enroll in Irish middle schools have faced animosity from their classmates. Karl Johannson was a new student at Rafferty High School and was reportedly struggling with finding friends in his new environment.

Witnesses say fellow high schooler Fred Humphrey had been persecuting Karl for his perceived Swedish accent (Johannson has lived in the United States his entire life), resulting in the scuffle on the World Park field trip. Karl Johannson emerged unscathed from the incident and his family has decided not to press charges, despite aggressive protest from the Rafferty Falls Swedish community. Fred Humphrey has declined to comment for this article.

Forensic analysis revealed DNA evidence from several Skogsfall Adult Home employees and residents among the packaging, lending credence to the rumors of an underground Benadryl ring in the residence. An elderly couple was escorted away by law enforcement as they were spotted harvesting pills from the pile. The “Benadryl Boss” at the head of the operation, as residents of Skogsfall call them, remains unidentified and at large.

Town officials are currently assessing reconstruction of the monument, but are facing engineering concerns; the Benadryl sacks provided essential structural support and need to be replaced with suitable material.

At press time, the reconstruction vote was split due to vocal concerns that “the towers would be built back up just to be knocked down again.”

—J. Mansfield

The 24-Hour Issue DENOUMENT After the curtain sets on Rafferty High’s Rent and the applause finally quiets for Karl Mayörsohn Johansonn’s performance as naked Roger, O’Halloran Puppery CEO and Olympic gold medalist Ryan O’Halloran takes to the stage to accept his honorary G.E.D. O’HALLORAN: What an honor and what a performance! I would just like to say, it’s an inspiration to see this town back up on its feet after that terrible suicide matter. It means the– Astrid climbs on stage with Madame on a leash.

ASTRID: I’m sorry to interrupt Mr. O’Halloran, but this will just take a second.

DETECTIVE CARUSO: Well this is most unorthodox! Nothing like any G.E.D. ceremony I’ve ever been to.

ASTRID: I think I have some information that the good townspeople of The Falls would like to know. I’d like to start by thanking you, Detective Caruso– you missed every relevant detail of the case, but you really got me thinking. And it let me to the realization that the person who murdered, yes murdered, Mayor O’Connor is right here in this auditorium. But beyond just that, this town is full of secrets and lies.

Charlie Murderer, the only crime you’re guilty of is taking advantage of innocent tourists when you upcharge them 70% for your Watering Hole Sampler during “Rafferty Crawls”.

CHARLIE MURDERER: Hey, a guy’s gotta make a living. It’s not easy for Murderers out on these streets.

ASTRID: “Old” Oldman Anders, you

were notably missing from the crime scene at the Crime Scene, where your trivia domination was thought to be a staple. Receipts have shown that you were getting your prosthetic wrinkles put in.

You’re not even fifty!

SVURKER SKÖL: But you all believed it, didn’t you? That’s the magic of Bitchin’ and Stitchin’ Bar and Grill. Age is just a number and numbers are the devil’s letters.

ASTRID: But the lies don’t end there. Anders, you run a drug ring out of the Rafferty World Twin Tower Replicas.

ANDERS: Don’t act all high and mighty, I know you take Benny like it’s candy.

ASTRID: Our Mayor, on his mission to remove the Twin Towers endangered your operation and you wanted to take him out. But you didn’t have the guts!

Now guts, guts brings me to Oskaar Johannson, male librarian, cuck, and expert in ancient Sanskrit.

You claimed that you didn’t care about the relationship between the mayor and your wife, Ingrid, the town floozy.

INGRID: Town bicycle, you impudent bitch!

ASTRID: You famously organize your books in order of most to least Ayurvedic and the first book on the shelf was the Big Book of Poisonous Indian plants Found North of the Mississippi. You clearly forgot about your open marriage and poisoned the mayor, but never actually dealt a lethal dose.

OSKAAR: I am pretty forgetful. Ingrid says I’d forget my head if it weren’t screwed on so tight.

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ASTRID: You probably would. But yours is not the only dirty secret this town holds. The dark underbelly of the Puppery contains an experiment lab, and not just for testing medical products on the runts like we thought. And what better evidence than the Dog Catcher.

She gestures to the Dog Catcher sitting in his own dogcatching cage at the back of the theater (he is a known musical theater fan) next to Charlie Murderer, and the town fulvous Ourang-Outang.

He is the unholy product of selective breeding that blurs the line between man and dog, long since escaped from the Puppery facilities.The boundaries of ethics have been flaunted once again, by none other than you, town hero and Olympic gold medalist Ryan O’Halloran.

O’HALLORAN: I have no idea what you could be on about.

ASTRID: Deny it all you want, I know what you did! I found the vat of mutt pheromones you synthesized to get your protestors to douse the mayor at the Pro-test protest. Then, you told

the Dog Catcher to stay off the streets and leave Madame unattended for the sake of tourism. All this, knowing that her sense of smell has been carefully tuned to sniff out half breeds. Don’t even deny it, I have the forensic reports.

O’HALLORAN: So what if it’s all true!

You have nothing on me. Sure I gave O’Connor a little shower, but that’s not a crime. And hey, maybe that shower smelled like a Bernese Yorkadoodle, but there’s nothing wrong with that either. What happened next? Not my problem.

DETECTIVE CARUSO: Fine work, young lady! But unfortunately, O’Halloran’s right. Sanitation’s not a crime in this town, and people get devoured by dogs all the time.

ASTRID: Not a crime, eh? Well then neither is this!

She pulls out a water gun and sprays it at O’Halloran.

Madame leaps on stage from the wings and rips at his flesh, sending guts and viscera flying. Half of the audience cheers.

—C. Rose

Rafferty Falls From Grace

I

BY J. GUSTAFERRO

n a way, I was surprised to see such revelry after the brutal, gory death of O’Halloran. I saw Swedes high-fiving, thanking their Lutheran God for this victory, in front of a wide-eyed, traumatized, and naked cast of Rent. But who was to stop them?

There was now one more Swede than a person of Irish descent. And on the other hand, why were the Irish so glum? O’Halloran was a murderer, and not just that—a murderer of Irishmen. And a torturer of dogs.

But that didn’t quite matter. In this town, people don’t seem to see their town’s “history”—of

an Irishman in love with a Swede—as some kind of message of solidarity, a call to live as one family. Colm and Annelise co-existed under the same waterfall. And this murder, too, wasn’t across these arbitrary lines—if anything it occurred because of the same kind of legendary love that the town does not permit.

Each time I try to understand this town, it seems to present a new complication. This town will never change, though when I leave, the town sign reads: “SVENSON FALLS, pop. 2891. ‘Family happens here.’”

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