Local man tests his fate
Local man tests his fate

Hundreds Disappear into Local Snowbank

by / Feb. 27, 2015 12pm EST

Courtesy of the Lankville Daily News:

It was just after dusk when Lankville Partial-Ice Regions resident Karl Chappas went out for a quick trip to the store. He never returned.

“He said he was going out for some cheese,” said Chappas’ wife Louise-Janet. “What kind of an asshole walks out at night for some cheese?”

In another section of the Partial-Ice Regions, barrel-maker Glenn Grapes left work early. “He wanted to get an early start on some barrels,” noted his son Glenn, Jr. “He was generally kind of a schmuck that way.”

What happened to Chappas, Grapes and hundreds of other Lankvillians?

They are believed to have fallen victim to a local snowbank. A snowbank that takes and gives nothing in return. A snowbank that, despite the fact that it’s really cold and not at all like hell, IS HELL.

“We’re working on trying to free the corpses,” noted Detective Gee-Temple, who shuddered as he looked up at the monstrous snowbank, which is now estimated at over fifteen feet high. “This snowbank, however, is an icy sepulcher, a frosty mausoleum, a gelid grave.”

“I doubt we’ll be getting all these awful, stupid people out until spring,” Gee-Temple added.

For now, the families will have to wait.

“I’d like some closure, sure,” noted Louise-Janet Chappas, who we interviewed while she crouched luridly on a pool table in a nearby bar. “Still, I’ve moved on. As I said before, Karl was always going out for cheese. Who the hell needs that in a partner?”

Does Chappas not feel sorry for the families of the other victims of this frigid tomb?

“There’s got to be a reason why somebody gets trapped in a fucking snowbank. Whether it’s pointless, idiotic cheese errands or getting a start on a barrel like that other asshole. I don’t even understand that—’getting an early start on a barrel.’ I mean, what the Christ?”

“Pretty certain that’s going to be the m.o. on all these people,” Chappas added.

For now though, there are no answers. There are only questions. Questions that cannot penetrate the forbidding, bitter cold of the unspeakable snowbank.

Et tu snowbank?

Nothing, but the usual flat reverberations of the cosmos. 

Devon Fick is editor of the Lankville Daily News