E! Entertainment Television signs deal for new internet reality show about Quincy

Article by Beak Wilder / Photos courtesy of the City of Presidents

E! Entertainment Television, the direct broadcast satellite network known for it's imaginative, thought-provoking series, such as The Anna Nicole Show, Dr. 90210, and Living Lohan, has just signed a ten-episode deal for an all-new internet reality show, E! True Quincy Story.

The new show will revolve around Quincy and it's incredible ability to raise nothing but pure, concentrated groups of maggots and douchebags.

The season opener will begin Friday night at 8:00PM on the World Wide Web.

"This show is gonna be fuckin' nuts, kid," commented Matt Kayhawk, a real wild child from whatever street will have him. "It opens up with me and my boys trading our t-shirts for key bumps at some party. It's fuckin' hilarious. And there's this one dude in it, I fuckin' blast him so fuckin' hard, kid. It was fuckin' nuts! The dude was like, 'Are you lookin' at me, guy?' and I was like, 'Is this fuckin' guy bein' fuckin' dead fuckin' serious right now?' and everyone was like, 'Dude, he's bein' the most fuckin' dead serious right now,' and I just fuckin' blast the guy, right in the eye, and I'm like, 'Ding!!!' It's so fuckin' funny, kid, you gotta see it."

Other Quincy antics include late-night couch performances by Neal Diamondz, extremely profound, drunken speeches by Jeff Archaic, unnecessary coffee table destruction by Matty Hammers and Studly McJacobs, and awkwardly long scenes where objectionable creatures just eerily stare into the camera for time periods as long as seventeen minutes.


Paul McGranite and Dino Bland stare foolishly into the camera lens.

"Nobody is gonna watch this show," claimed Stina Bellcamp, a moderately respected veterinarian who grew up shockingly close to the Milton border. "Who would actually watch a show that was nothing but a bunch of scenes from random people's lives? It's not like these people were famous before the show came out. That I could understand. These people are nobody to the outside world. You'd have to be a pretty boring and miserable person to just sit around and actually get into the lives of these absolute randoms. Get a life."


Squantum's Elizabeth Longfur appears in the 2nd episode: Butterbump Biscuit Bitch

Several parents in Quincy have already filed complaints against E! Entertainment Television, claiming some scenes in the series are too dangerous for children to see.

"There would be no way to really prevent children from seeing this," said Joe Schlopp, the city hall employee who seems to be in charge of handling just about everything. "You can block the website itself, but you don't know what video streaming sites it's going to end up on after that. If it's out there, kids will find it. These children grew up around computers, where we, the adults of Quincy, still find them to be magical, confusing, and downright insane."

As of now, there is already one scene the network company has agreed not to air, as it allegedly contains footage of Don Brendanhue, a compression adjuster for local music producer, Jaime Curbkick, spiraling out of control and going on one of the biggest rampages ever seen since Bally Midway's Rampage. This segment reportedly contains footage of Brendanhue smashing a window at O'Brien's Pub in Allston, stealing a souped-up Ford Mustang, and facefucking every person on his ride back home to Quincy with his fist.


The only non-censored screenshot in the entire twenty-three minutes of footage.

Whether the ratings will allow for another season of the show, nobody knows, but the fact that Quincy is finally being recognized is more than enough for most residents, as it clearly shows that we have grown as a city. The times of being remembered for two presidents, a plethora of rich, valuable granite, the soothing surf rock sounds of Dick Dale, and the fresh brewed coffee of Dunkin' Donuts are now over. We are maggots in Quincy, and that is how we shall be remembered. So when you're thirty-seven years old and still drink Miller High Life, or when you're "accidentally" fucking your best friend's boyfriend for the third time, or if you just have a huge fucking case of "Quincy Face," you'll know that you are a giant part of what we have created here. We are future text books in the making, you fucking absolute pieces of shit. Take your pants off, throw them in somebody's face, and dance around like a fucking dick. I don't give a fuck what you do, but make it so fucking Quincy that it feels like the Freedom Park structure is crammed up your ass, but you love every minute of it, because you know that, later in the day, you're gonna be able to say that, when you shit, you shit Quincy. There's a weekend coming up, go make history. Make me proud.

Author's Note: As Brunk Edwards will be in Los Angeles for a few days, and I will be moving back to the 02169 zip code, the Quincy Scallion will be suffering a three, or four, day state of stagnancy. We hope that you do not forget about us, as we will never forget you. Seriously though, don't leave us, we're two wicked lonely dudes.

City's elderly rejoice as daring new business venture hits Quincy Center strip

Article by Beak Wilder / Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web

Elderly residents from every walker of life rejoiced this morning as Forever 71, a new clothing store in Quincy Center, catered to those in the dusk of their golden years, was opened by Quincy native, Julie Cunty.

"I really love old people," said Cunty, or "Julie Unruly," as she has become known to her friends, most likely due to her most tragic and commonly ridiculed last name. "I just wanted to do something nice for them for once. Everywhere they go, they're always getting pushed to the side, stepped on, and just left to die. It's so horrible. Some of these elderly people would do anything to feel young again. And to them, seventy-one is young."

Forever 71 opened at 5:30AM this morning and celebrated their grand opening with an early bird breakfast, courtesy of the Granite Street Cafe, who was most recently in the news for donating over a hundred dollars to the "Keep Magic Johnson Healthier than People Who Don't Have AIDS" fund.

Offering a great deal of variety to what appears to be a somewhat dying demographic, Forever 71 presents the finest in elderly fashions, ranging from revealing incontinence wear, sensually scented moth balls, bedazzled check book holders, and orthopedic Adidas shell toes. In addition to these fine products, what seemed to impress customers most was "Antiquated Ensemble," a limited edition clothing line, which features a colorful assortment of pre-faded, and often ironic, jerseys with an array of business and product logos, such as Hearth n' Kettle, Tums, Depend®, Mercury Grand Marquis, and Polident Dentu-Creme Denture Toothpaste.

"I'm so glad to have a store where I can finally buy my wife something that makes her feel young," remarked Fred Parsons, a retired car salesman from Hough's Neck. "Back in my day, this area used to be a thriving business community. We had Sears, Milton's, Remick's, and whole slew of other fine, respectable establishments. And then Braintree took them all away from us by opening up that fancy new mall up the way. Seeing my wife look sexy again gets me excited."

Mr. Parsons then collapsed and was immediately attended to by Forever 71's on-site doctors, who later explained that his heart simply exploded.


Artist's depiction of Mr. Parsons as he was carried away and brought somewhere else.

"He was just too old," said Dr. Juan "Bleeding Gums" Fernando, a controversial OB/GYN with a knack for picking up a little extra coin when it's available. "His heart looked like a grenade had gone off inside it. I've seen some disgusting things in my life---believe me---but that one takes the cake."

Forever 71 will be open seven days a week at the convenient hours of 5:30AM to 2:00PM, and will be closed only during holidays observed by Irish Catholics.

"I'm really happy about this place," said Audrey Baloney, a saucy little biscuit who recently acquired a decent hunk of land in the Merrymount section of Quincy. "It's just a really neat place, I love it. They have the greatest things here for this old lady I used to work with. She's seventy-nine now, but she was quite the pistol a few years back. I bought her these skimpy, little shorts that release a shot of floral aroma every three minutes, just in case she craps. She's a good shit, but sometimes she's also taking a good shit, if you know what I mean. And you think Blanche Devereaux was a whore, you should have seen this lady ten years ago. She was very social, I'll say that much. She definitely liked meeting new people, if you catch my drift. Seriously though, it's just good to see somebody trying something different in Quincy Center these days. I really like the idea, and I hope it all works out. And the fact that they observe all Irish Catholic holidays is gonna be something that really impresses these old-timers. Quincy is an extremely Irish Catholic city, and probably more highly regarded by Ireland than, let's say, Northern Ireland. I'm one hundred percent Irish. My last name might be Baloney here, but it was pronounced [unable to convert] back in Ireland. I wish this place the best of luck. 'Adh mór ort,' as the Irish say."

Seven more customers dropped throughout the day, however, aside from five of them leading to immediate deaths, no one else was seriously injured.

Forever 71 will be open again tomorrow morning at it's normal time and has promised to have so much oxygen pumping through that place, you'll think you were in fucking Foxwoods. As usual, Julie Unruly will be offering her delicious medley of elderly treats, clothing, and accessories, all of them offered at a fair and reasonable price that even the elderly couldn't complain about.

Shots fired from Direct TV van on Water Street, causing brief streetwide panic

Article by Beak Wilder / Photos courtesy of the World Wide Web

A man fired several shots into the air as he passed two local legends on Water Street early Saturday morning, causing many people on the street to have to stop partying earlier than expected.

Neal James, of Wollaston, and Moranzo Llamas, of Quincy Point, were sitting on the front stairs of 259 Water Street at approximately 3:40AM, discussing what party to go to next, when a man in the passenger seat fired multiple shots from a hangun into the air as the van headed slowly towards the west side of town.

Police claim that the two men did not know the men in the vehicle, and that the gun was not pointed at them, although who really knows what the real fucking story is.

"It looked like a Direct TV van," said Moranzo Llamas, as he smoked away at his high-test marijuana using one of his signature makeshift bongs. "I fucking hate Direct TV. Those fuckers have been driving around in this area for a while now, I've been seeing them more and more. I don't even live here, we just needed to take a break from walking around for a bit. Unlike the rest of this fucking city, Neal and I don't snort coke, so we actually get tired sometimes. I know that's basically blasphemy in these parts, but it's just the way it is. Give me a half ounce of the good shit and a smooth Belgian ale, and I'm happy. There's a little somethin' for you to know about me, right there. It's just, like, I dunno, I just feel like you never really get to know somebody, because there's always that part of them that they hide from the rest of the world. There's other things, like, all tons of shit. I don't even go in the ocean water anymore. I dunno, dude, sharks scare me. So many teeth. They can just squash you up like a raspberry, without you even knowing that it's happening. I feel like you don't see raspberry in sodas as much as you did a few years back. Remember when you used to see raspberry in sodas a lot? It was especially with ginger ale, I remember that much. 1-800 I Feel OK, dude! Holy fucking shit, that just popped into my head. A little 'Memory Road' action. What were we even talking about? I'm so fucking stoned right now."

Police have not yet caught the two people driving the van, nor have they obtained any information as to the location of the van, leading some citizens to believe that they have no information at all.

"They were some of the ugliest motherfuckers I had ever seen," claimed Neal James, clad in a perfectly matched outfit of Skidz overalls and a vintage Motörhead shirt. "That lady driving looked like her mother ripped her out of the womb during the first trimester, stuck her in a blender for an hour, and then tossed her right back. 'All up in her womb,' as Neal Diamondz would say. She was fucking gross. Stevie Wonder on his blindest day wouldn't have fucked that bitch. Fuck Direct TV. They don't even have Fear Net On Demand. If those were Direct TV employees, that pretty much explains everything. With faces like that, you don't even need Fear Net."

Direct TV then sent down two of their finest looking floozies, armed with firm breasts, amazing smiles, and wicked, wicked, wicked short shorts.

A couple of whores Direct TV sent down to distract us.

"I'm gonna jump up and down," said the one with the white shirt. "Everybody take a look, I'm jumping up and down."

"Looks like somebody forgot to wear a bra," said the other one. "Oh well, looks like we're gonna have to party hard tonight. Set it off!"

No further information on this case has been made available, as all city officials instantly became too distracted to do anything beyond hanging out, chain-smoking butts, and drinking delicious, frosty beers.

So far, Direct TV has yet to make any official statement at this time, as no employees who actually wear respectable business attire were able to be reached.

Mayor Koch holds "2009 State of the City Address”

SUCK IT, BITCHES: 100th FUCKING ARTICLE!

Article by Beak Wilder and Brunk Edwards / Photos courtesy of the World Wide Web

At 8:00AM on Saturday morning, Mayor Thomas Koch held the first annual “State of the City Address” from Quincy City Hall.

The mayor’s speech was aimed at a growing concern over crime, civil unrest, political corruption, budget overspending, anonymous blogging, and renegade law enforcement officials, amongst other concerns.

The hour-long address was followed by a press conference and public forum that was commissioned by City Hall to allow greater dialogue between municipal workers and the citizens of Quincy.

”Fear not, my citizens,” exclaimed Mayor Koch, as he carelessly spread a heaping portion of Miracle Whip onto an abnormally large hoagie. “One thing my high school education taught me is that, if you pay attention to things, you can actually learn some really valuable lessons. One lesson I have learned as your mayor is that the residents of Quincy are a demanding and robust breed, full of life and energy, and anxious for change. I am that change. Last night, I arrived home late from a long and hard day’s work. I kissed my wife and children, and then I went to bed. And do you know what happened next? I’ll tell you right now what happened; I had a dream!”

At this moment, a mint condition, extremely clean, white sneaker was thrown at the mayor, causing him to tumble backwards, spilling the contents of his hoagie onto the floor.

“Yo, this is bullshit,” screamed Neal Diamondz, a one-hit wonder of the underground hip-hop scene. “The people of Quincy want answers, and they want them now!"

A scuffle then broke out between the mayor’s bodyguards, transit police, and members of the crowd. Jeff Archaic, 29, a freelance alcohol tester from the Norfolk Downs area, was arrested and charged with manslaughter after his wild flailing arms and hysterical screaming caused local old timer, Alf Nelson, to collapse dead of a heart attack.

Funeral arrangements for Mr. Nelson will be held at Lydon Funeral Home on Monday morning, although it is expected that absolutely no one will attend.

Neal Diamondz, however, was unable to be charged, as his starfish-like ability to regenerate mint condition, extremely clean, white sneakers made it impossible for police to pin the rebellious act on him

"Smell ya later," shouted Diamondz, as he dove into the crowd with the carefree and youthful energy of an early nineties grunge rocker.

While the unruly participants of the crowd were subdued, the mayor returned to the podium sporting slicked back hair and what appeared to be a Dracula-esque cape.

“My sandwich is gone, but my hunger for serving the people of this fine city is not at all diminished,” bellowed Koch to scattered applause and coughs from the audience. “We are all here today to bring this city up to the gold standard that it deserves. My leadership and my trusted team of employees, with the notable exception of those currently facing class action lawsuits and criminal probes, will guide this city into the inevitable Blade Runner style future on our horizon.”

Koch then stared directly at the sun for approximately eight minutes before yelling “Yes we can!” into the microphone.

A brief parade then commenced, which featured the finest of the city’s automobiles, some of which included vintage Corvettes, mint condition Cadillacs, and the mayor’s own Jeep Grand Cherokee with a “QUINCY” license plate.


Mayor Koch's Jeep Grand Cherokee, sporting the infamous "QUINCY" license plate.

”You don’t deserve that plate,” shouted “Gorgeous” George Camaro, a roots rock enthusiast from Wollaston. “All you do is spend our money on ridiculous things, like shag carpeting, office restorations, Bose stereo systems, and most recently, a hundred pounds of shredded beef.”

Camaro then hopped the fence and attempted to attack the mayor, where he was shot on sight by the diabetic Officer Nico Haylen.

Camaro was then brought to Quincy Medical Center where he was given a complimentary haircut, as the bullet merely skimmed his signature coiffure, making it the first, and so far only, time Officer Haylen has ever fired a single shot at someone without literally taking their face off.

”I dunno,” commented an obviously disappointed Haylen. “I guess it just wasn’t my day. That kid was just too slippery for me. If you wanna take someone like that out, you must have just the right bullets. Oh well, there’s always next time.”

There is no word yet on whether, or not, Haylen’s comments intentionally paraphrased a lyric from Tom Waits. There was word, however, that Camaro’s hospital-issued haircut was deemed “fantastic” by all those who saw it.

Officer Haylen’s blood sugar level then suffered a devastating blow when his afternoon tea was spiked with the banned Ephedrine-laced energy drink, Speed Stack. This was apparently in retaliation from Val “Swerve Dog” Vickson, a former gambling con-man who owned Quincy Tickets on Hancock Street for roughly seventeen hours before becoming involved in a bitter feud with a waitress at the Hancock Tavern next door.

Vickson was apprehended blocks away from the parade at New England Comics with two empty Speed Stack containers and an illegal amount of Clubman® brand aftershave doused on his person.

An announcement from Joe Schlopp, former assistant to the mayor’s assistant, followed the shooting, in which he maintained that this was still the least controversial public address by the mayor and urged those in the crowd to “chill the fuck out for once in your miserable lives.”

Schlopp then went on to refer to Koch as an “Obama-like superstar” with impeccable one-liners and a keen eye for loose women. “With diligent, mayoral servants in control, City Hall will take care of this," he added. "That’s right, DMS is running the show.”

It remains unclear if Schlopp was aware that he was paraphrasing Madball lyrics, although it seems the entire city is filled with fans of the notorious, yet lovable, New York hardcore band.

The mayor’s Bose surround sound system, paid for entirely with funds from a tax on triple-deckers at Wendy’s, was then used to supply uplifting background music. After mere seconds of deliberation, Koch settled on Basil Poledouris’ “Anvil of Crom” from the “Conan the Barbarian” soundtrack.

But the calming uplift did not last for long, as Cletus “Clubweather” Johnson, a local black, was arrested for disorderly conduct, causing Barack Obama to immediately ridicule the Quincy Police Department until all charges were dropped.

The arresting officer, Patrolman John Steele, a seasoned rookie of the force, was then publicly crucified by almost every active media source but the Quincy Scallion and Fox News, being accused of racism, excessive force, and ridiculous decision making.

”I don’t really see how Officer John Steele is a racist,” commented Audrey Baloney, Boston’s eighth highest regarded rooftop criminal analyst. “He was the second guy to give Reggie Lewis mouth-to-mouth, right after Sergeant James Crowley of the Boston Police Department. Not many people realize that, but it’s true. I saw it---from a rooftop---while I was analyzing a crime. That’s what I do. I don’t know, though, I guess I just don’t see how a man putting his white lips directly onto another man’s black lips can be racist. If anything, it’s a little gay, but it’s certainly not racist.”

Hollywood staple Laurence Fishburne, seen bowling at Olindy’s Lanes & Games during the altercation, expressed doubt that the situation would resolve peacefully. “I doubt that this situation will resolve peacefully,” said Fishburne.

Others, however, remained optimistic. “No comment,” optimistically replied "Silent" Mike K, a Charlestown native with a knack for “seein’ nuthin’” and “not snitchin.'"

As round after round of Dunkin’ Donuts “Box O’ Joes” were purchased by the city in order to placate the uneasy crowd, tensions yet again flared as Victor C., a notorious “Yelper” with no known address, flipped his shit over the lack of plain, yellow mustard.

“Give me a goddamn break, will you? I mean, this event is set up flawlessly, and I’d give the fresh coffee a 5-out-of-5, but the lack of yellow mustard, for which, I’ll admit this much, I have absolutely no need for right now, is driving me insane!”

But as more and more people drank the undebatably delicious fresh brewed Dunkin’ Donuts coffee, frustrations seemed to diminish as the soothing effects liquid codeine began to kick in, turning the overall scene into something reminiscent of the Freedom Rally, Boston’s beloved festival, in which residents of the city are given one day with no fucking rules.

“I don’t know who spiked that shit with codeine, but I’d like to thank them very much,” said Paul McGranite, a wealthy investor, and star of the straight-to-DVD flop, Thirtysomething Wolf. “I feel like I could sleep for days. Sometimes, when I feel this way, I like to run my fingers through my flawless pompadour and just let loose for a while. Now, the only thing I need is a big set of titties to stare at. After that, I’m golden.”

As the “State of the City Address” came to its conclusion, spectators began making their way through the crowd, each of them anxiously looking for Sweden, the mysterious poster from the Quincy Scallion’s comments section.

”I don’t even know what to look for,” remarked Phil Turkolio, a known facefucker from Germantown, who is in no way related to mayoral candidate, Tom Turkolio. “From what I hear, they have that chick narrowed down to living in Montclair, and being slightly older than Beak Wilder, but that’s all I know. Although, I must admit, I’ve noticed that she absolutely never comments on any of Brunk Edwards’ solo articles. I’m not sure how that’s gonna help me find her, but I figured it was worth mentioning.”

But before the festivities were able to conclude, a final showdown between Mayor Koch and mankind occurred, happening just after a black Volkswagen and Cambridge-esque scooter pulled up, driven by the one and only Dink Lightning, a Braintree resident who would give almost anything to be from Quincy, even her spleen.

”Fuck you, Mayor Koch,” screamed Dink Lightning, as she sped off into the street, immediately colliding with a giant piece of iron carried by Tom Turkolio and exploding into a fiery blaze.


Dink Lightning, just before fucking the deal and almost, sort of dying in a crazy inferno.

The public address was then brought to a sudden standstill as Dink Lightning was brought to Quincy Medical Center with third degree burns over her entire body, and Tom Turkolio was in need of what appeared to be a single band-aid.

There is no word yet on whether Dink Lightning will survive, nor is there any word on exactly how much Tom Turkolio can lift over his head, although it is estimated to be somewhere in the thousands.

Jeff Brophy was unavailable for comment on this situation, as his advisor, Wavy Davey, claims he was “campaigning heavily,” though eyewitnesses clearly place the both of them drinking on Wollaston Beach, wearing nothing but diapers and tinfoil hats.

Mayor Koch then closed the festivities with one of his most amazing speeches to date, followed by hours and hours of non-stop dancing and gyrating.

"We are entering a new millennium of politics," the mayor stated. "A millennium of change. And I can tell you without a doubt in my mind that I am doing a magnificent job. It may appear that I am not---to the untrained eye, that is---but I am doing spectacular. You must believe me. One small step for man, one giant step for my career. I urge you, voters of this fine city, to please vote for me in this upcoming election. If I am not elected for next term, I will immediately go on unemployment, and I will milk you fuckers for everything it's worth. I promise you that. And that is one promise that I'm willing to keep."

Mayor Koch was then picked up by a stretched limousine driven by fledgling rap artist, Joey A, who casually flipped off the audience and drove away at a speed comparable to a mentally retarded turtle, causing spectators to shrug it off and go home. All in all, it was a pretty uneventful day, however, when compared to the surrounding towns, somewhat rich and enjoyable. Thank you for reading. Until next time.

Recent study shows most Quincy residents are linked by late-night hookups

Article by Beak Wilder and Brunk Edwards / Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web

A recent study conducted by scientists shows that most Quincy residents can be linked by late-night hookups in only six moves, or less, using a formula similar to the "Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon" trivia game which became a pop culture phenomenon, in which players must link any actor, or actress, to Kevin Bacon.

The study, which was funded as part of Mayor Thomas Koch's all-new "Weird Science" program, was conducted in the basement level of the former Flagship Cinema, and featured live music by Dana & The Teen Sensations.

Residents from all areas of Quincy were invited to join the festivities and watch the scientists come to conclusions through the use of intense thinking, vigorous research, and ice cold beer.

"I had never really thought of this until now," claimed Binnie Badabooch, a fine young specimen from the Quincy Point area. "It really made me think. I remember I was hooking up with this piece of shit from Grafton Street a while back. She was a real weird chick, listened to a lot of that alternative music, shit like that. She was the kind of girl that used to cry after sex, but I'm the kind of guy that cries during, so it all worked out in the end, in a really awkward way, at least. Three weeks after I started banging that whore, I find her at some party hooking up with this Jimmy Gruppapo kid. That kid's face was all up in places I had literally just been---seriously---like three minutes before. Me and that kid are linked in only two moves. He might as well be my fucking cousin."

By using subjects from each area of the city, scientists were able to prove the long-running theory that all Quincy kids are “socially ridiculous.”

Bartender Bernie Allen, spending most of the evening pouring vicious shots of his signature drink, “The Granite City Nailbomb,” seemed unconcerned with the findings. “Look, I just get paid to pour drinks. Every now and then, Koch’s people show up here and start experimenting on people. Last week it was some shit about a complicated series of levers and pulleys, enabling a man to successfully drink beer before liquor, now it’s this shit. I don’t care if these idiots keep hooking up with each others' ex-girlfriends; all I know is that everyone in this place is getting unconstitutionally drunk.”

After a brief intermission, in which almost all attendees of the function were unable to locate their significant others, the festivities resumed with what was intended to be an epic speech by Cambridge native, Ben Affleck, who was immediately booed off stage on the grounds of being “more boring than fucking someone who hasn’t already fucked one of your friends.”

"That dude is the most boring guy in the world,” alleged Matt Turnpike, a rising superstar in the Adams Shore rollerblading scene. “What a fucking goon.”

Others who attended seemed unaffected by Affleck’s brief presence, deciding to reflect on the larger issue at hand. “It was just a really interesting evening, to be honest,” said “Crusty” Jim Farmington, a low-level box inspector from Hough’s Neck. “It’s just really fun to try to figure out who’s been where, and in how many moves you can connect each other. I remember this one girl I was seeing a ways back---this real frumpy bitch from G-Town---and that girl had some fucking mileage on her, to say the fucking least. You know what I'm sayin'. She was good sport though. I fucking loved that girl. All over her fucking face, that is. She ended up switching teams and started fucking some North Quincy kid, though, which was fine by me. You wanna go fuck a dude from the 02171, go ahead. How long can you seriously keep fucking the same person? Seriously, dude, not that long, you know? After that North Quincy kid, my boy, Droopa, started banging her. Me and that muthafucka are linked in three moves. What a fucking disgusting city this is.”

The event was then brought to an immediate, unforeseen conclusion, as both Mayor Koch and his mysterious sidekick, Joe Schlopp, were taken out by stretcher, reportedly consuming over ten "Granite City Nailbombs" each, and over thirty beers, all in a period of less than two hours.

"If it wasn't for those nine slices he had, the mayor would be dead," claimed Matty Hammers, an astute scientist from Allston Rock City. "What a gross looking guy he is. You really don't have to be a scientist to determine that one. Nope. You could pretty much be a pornstar fluffer and still figure that one out."

Body of missing girl found in West Quincy dumpster, "I'm on this," says local badge

Article by Beak Wilder / Photos courtesy of the World Wide Web

The body of a missing girl was found late last night in a dumpster behind the 7-Eleven convenience store on Copeland Street in West Quincy.

The victim, who has been identified by parents as Tara Springfield, 23, of Wollaston, had been reported missing since early Monday morning, when her parents claimed she never came home after her Sunday night work shift at the Wollaston Yacht Club on Quincy Shore Drive.

The body was found at approximately 11:45PM by a local homeless man known only as “Guitar Man,” an out-of-work singer-songwriter who has been struggling to balance the conflicting worlds of unemployment and an explosive marijuana habit for the past two decades.

As usual, Officer Nico Haylen was available to respond. “This was an atrocious, gruesome act of murder,” he stated, as he checked his blood glucose level with the natural poise and charisma of a golden-era Clooney. “The victim’s body was found gagged and hogtied, and showed signs of being held in these restraints for quite some time. Each of her teeth had been forcefully removed. The fatality itself appears to have been caused by extreme blood loss from a large laceration to the carotid artery, but autopsy reports will not be available until later in the week."

"When we arrived on the scene," Haylen continued. "We found that the body had been strategically placed in a manner so it appeared that she was sitting Indian style, and a John Adams-style powdered wig had been placed on her head, leading us to believe this may be related to another body we had discovered over the weekend, although that much is merely speculation at this time. We are also waiting on a report on a Styrofoam-like material that was found inserted under the nail of the victim’s right index finger, which, at first glance, appears to be a piece of a Dunkin’ Donuts Great One cup. As many of you already know, a Great One cup was also found at the crime scene over the weekend in the Beachcomber parking lot. While it's too soon to link these crimes for sure, as evidence collection and forensic reports are still in the early phases, the similarities are undoubtedly there. We are asking that all residents of the area use extreme caution, especially at night. Do the buddy system, carry a baseball bat, go get a huge fucking gun, it doesn’t matter to me. Just be careful out there. I’m on this, and that’s really all the residents of this fine city need to know. When it’s time to play hardball, Nico Haylen is the man for the job.”

Officer Nico Haylen was then escorted through the crowd to his brand new, police-issued Kawasaki Ninja ZX-10R, where he signed autographs and received a standing ovation that lasted roughly thirteen minutes, yet again proving himself to be a fan favorite among locals.

“Survival of the fastest!” Haylen screamed, as he sped off into a crowded Hancock Street at an estimated 100 miles per hour.


The 7-Eleven dumpster where Tara Springfield's mutilated body was found.

No further information is known as to whether these two recent murders are linked, nor has the identity of the first victim been made known. Anyone with information on either of these two cases has been asked to please contact authorities immediately.

Jeff Brophy demands VIP cards for high-ranking Quincy socialites, promises change is coming

Article by Beak Wilder and Brunk Edwards / Photos courtesy of T.J. Westminster

Jeff Brophy, the local mayoral candidate known for his ability to always stay out later than the moon, demanded VIP passes for certain elite residents of Quincy during an impromptu press conference outside McKay's Breakfast and Lunch on Franklin Street in South Quincy.

Brophy, a known Wheelhouse lover, claims that he was unable to be seated at the Wheelhouse for approximately fifteen minutes this afternoon, causing him to fly into a rampage, demanding better treatment for those who deserve it.

"I've been in eating at the Wheelhouse for years," Brophy shouted. "I'm Jeff fuckin' Brophy, people better recognize that shit. I don't need to be told that I can't eat my meal because some Quincy b-side is eatin' his stupid breakfast. I don't care about that dude, so get him outta that seat, settle the fuck down, and act accordingly."

The press conference, which consisted of Jeff Brophy tossing a full cup of coffee at McKay's, storming outside, and giving a surprisingly memorable speech on top of an old, beat up Boston Herald box, was rumored to be one of the most monumental moments in this election year's campaign. Those who were there for the unofficial meeting of minds included Matty Southside, a "let's do this" type of a guy from South Quincy, and Joe Schlopp, former assistant to the mayor's assistant.

"I like what this Brophy guy is saying," said Matty Southside, as he flaunted the stub of his missing finger into the face of all who walked by. "If you're a good dude, you're gonna get benefits. If you're a dickhead, you're gonna get bottom-of-the-piled, so fucking hard. So hard."

Among the demands in Brophy's list, or "The Kid's Demands," as he refers to it, are one free pair of Adidas shell toes per year, 25% discounts at the Wheelhouse Diner, Murphy's Twin Shamrocks, The Fat Cat, Irish Pub, The Varsity Club, and Napoli's Pizza, as well as "free Chinese bitches for every wicked cool dude."

The impromptu street-side politics included subjecting passersby to Brophy’s famous rhetorical verbalisms. When a middle aged local man, clearly of voting age and thus a prime target for the would-be mayor’s campaign, approached McKay’s for breakfast, he was hit with an immediate dose of polished bullshit.

“What are you eating, a fuckin’ Skybar?” exclaimed Brophy. “Those things are fuckin’ naaaaasty (sic), kid. Nobody’s chomped on one of them things since fuckin' Reagan was in office. C’mon, bucktooth, vote for me and I’ll have some human candy bars dropped off at your door.”

The unidentified man, refraining from making any official comment, simply turned away and was heard to mutter “what a dick” under his breath.

After making his demands and mayoral intentions known, Brophy was then taken back to his attic apartment, where the Quincy Scallion took part in an exclusive photo session, which, as expected, went horribly awry.

Jeff Brophy, moments before he slapped the living shit out of our cameraman.

"I didn't even mean to slap the shit out of that kid," claimed Brophy. "He just kept lookin' at me all weird and shit. I'm just tryin' to get the better residents of this city treated better than the ones that suck, that's all. I don't need some fuckin' loser lookin' at me all weird. Everybody in this city needs to just take a fuckin' breather, kid, and just sit down for a minute. If anybody out there is getting all torqued up for some reason, or has any plans of not voting for me, I suggest you just settle yourself down and start acting in a Meadley fashion."

T.J. Westminster, the Scallion's favorite cameraman, put forth for his immediate resignation shortly after leaving the Quincy Medical Center emergency room. He was discharged almost immediately with a prescription for 600mg Ibuprofen, a cherry flavored lollipop, and a handful of moist towelettes.

"This is obviously not a sane man," remarked Joe Schlopp, an "odd job guy" for Mayor Koch who happened to be walking by during Brophy's speech. "You can't just go around slapping people you don't like, and then giving special favoritism to those you do like. It's just not fair. That's not how a city's run."

When asked as to why he drives a city funded BMW M5, when all other city employees drive their own vehicles, Schlopp merely winked and began performing one of the most intense yo-yo tricks South Quincy had ever seen. It was an excellent distraction, to say the least.

Later this afternoon, a Mass Lottery Daily Race ticket was found at the Alumni Pub with what appears to be anti-Koch propaganda drawn on the back, leading many drunk locals to come to the conclusion that this was part of Jeff Brophy's new, highly aggressive viral marketing campaign.


The Mayor Koch drawing, depicting Koch as a burly beast-of-sorts, listening to his kickass Bose stereo system and thinking of pepperoni pizza, all while Quincy has it's head plungered into the fucking shit. CLICK PHOTO TO ENLARGE

At this point, there is no confirmation on whether, or not, Jeff Brophy did, in fact, make this drawing, however, the general thought around town is that there could be no other, although others have speculated that there is no way Brophy could have displayed such a great eye for detail while coming down from being so furious only hours before. More information on this will be made public as it is available.

Restaurant dispute leads to jury duty for entire city, causes massive tension among locals

Article by Brunk Edwards / Photos courtesy of the World Wide Web and Audrey Baloney

An awkward dispute between a staff member of the Hancock Tavern and a excruciatingly fickle customer has lead to the first case of jury duty being required by all citizens of Quincy.

The incident occurred Saturday at approximately 1:30PM when Val “Tix” Vickson, recent owner of Quincy Tickets on Hancock Street and notoriously indecisive eater, sent a bacon cheeseburger back a record twenty-four times in one sitting.

Waitress Susan Bitch, 51, a staff member of both the Hanock Tavern and former Wells Pub, was not amused. “This guy is a real piece of work, lemme tell ya,” Bitch remarked. “He started off by demanding we play a burned CD of the 'There Will Be Blood' soundtrack while he ate. Then he ordered a glass of ice with ‘three shots of ginger ale’ in it. I complied, even though that is just ridiculous to ask of someone, and after I wiped his goddamn fingerprints off of the back of the CD and finally got it to work, I gave him the ginger ale.”

Bitch, a long-suffering divorcee, coupled with a twenty-five pack a day cigarette habit, was then allegedly subjected to further abuse by Vickson. “That bastard told me the music was ‘too moody’ for lunch, and that there should be more ice in his drink. Then he tells me there is too much ice in the drink and it’s hurting his toothache. Why would you order that if you had a toothache?”

Police were called to the establishment when the tension between the two reached its inevitable boiling point. An order for a bacon cheeseburger, previously rejected by Vickson twenty-three times for being “too good to eat," “tasting like riboflavin," and having “a non-vegetarian vibe,” amongst other things, was then sent back to the cook for a final time.

Officer Skip Donovan responded to the scene first and had this to offer: “That shit was so awkward. They were both in each other’s faces, screaming, and everyone else in the place was just trying to pretend they were watching TV and not hearing it. Nobody wanted to get involved in that shit, me included”

Officer Donovan, who upon entering the tavern was booed wildly, as many were expecting diabetic hero, Nico Haylen, to arrive, then tried to disarm the situation using standard techniques. “This movie ‘Once Were Warriors’ was playing on the television, but, for whatever reason, it was skipping and just repeating the part where the guy just beats the absolute living fuck out of his wife. It was brutal. That did not help ease the tension in there at all. I asked both of them to calm down, they said ‘no,' so I was all out of ideas and just hit the bar. I pounded some beers, watched the movie, and just tried to play it off like I wasn’t on-duty anymore.”

Donovan was fired later that day. He went home and committed suicide in a fashion too gruesome to mention. His funeral service will be held at tomorrow at Lydon Funeral Home. The casket will most definitely be closed.

The Quincy Police Department, in conjunction with the mayor’s office, then reached the only logical conclusion they could come up with at the time. Jury duty notices were issued to every single citizen and illegal alien inside the city's limits per orders of Mayor Koch’s office. The case of Bitch vs. Vickson will take place this summer at Quincy District Court and promises to both divide the city and produce a rich, carnival-like atmosphere, courtesy of Don’s Joke Shop and Friendly’s Ice Cream.

While the concerns over who will work local businesses, take care of children, the sick, and the elderly, run hospitals and civic services, and other important duties were brought up in a press conference with the mayor, they were all swept swiftly under the rug. The city's ignorant shenanigans have once again trumped all forms of logic and decency.

Quincy residents learn there is more to local music than just bagpipes and bullshit

Article by Beak Wilder / Photos courtesy of a Nextel i580 cell phone

Quincy residents were graced on Friday night with one of the most highly anticipated bands in recent past, the newly formed supergroup, Tik Tok, consisting of area natives, Lucretia Lutts, Jaime Curbkick, Puerto Thority, and Patrick Crenshaw.

The show, which took place Friday night at the Beachcomber on Quincy Shore Drive, was the band's first public appearance, and has critics from all parts of the city praising what ended up becoming one of the most highly acclaimed live sets since the time Jimmy Flynn and a group of mediocre session musicians played Biohazard's "State of the World Address" in its entirety.

"They definitely put on a great show," said Neal Diamondz, a music critic from Hospital Hill. "She has an incredible, beautiful voice, which she compliments by playing the piano like a late nineteenth century composer. Truly amazing."

Jaime "The Scallion Stallion" Curbkick, being a ham for the camera, as usual.

Authorities responded to the Beachcomber shortly after Tik Tok's set began, as reports of what sounded like Mike Patton having a vigorous, public threesome with Tori Amos and Beth Gibbons began coming on almost immediately after they started.

"This was not what we expected at all," commented Officer John Steele, a hard-as-nails police officer with something to prove. "My fellow officers and I responded to a disturbance call, but, when we arrived at the scene, nobody looked disturbed. Everybody seemed to be having a great time, actually. I fired a warning shot in the air, just to make it official. Nobody even turned around. They were mesmerized. There was something so catchy and seductive about that music, I just couldn't help but to start dancing. It was so exciting. I was literally pitching a tent by the third song. I had to slap that thing around like it a group of blacks in Squantum. It just wouldn't go away. The music was that good."


Puerto "Saucy Biscuits" Thority, playing bass and shaking his money maker.

As Tik Tok's set continued, more and more influences became known through their music, all without any one of them becoming too prominent or noticable, paving way for some of the greatest and most innovative music Quincy has seen since the early days of Age Rings.

From Portishead, Tori Amos, Tom Waits, Mike Patton, and Fiona Apple, Tik Tok displayed elements of many amazing artists, all of which broke new ground within their respective genres. Using these influences, as well as their ability to utilize the impressive talent and energy of each member of the band, Tik Tok created their own mixture of hypnotic rock, danceable melodies, and baroque pop.

"That band was fucking awesome," shouted Nina Teal, an aspiring kickboxer from Wollaston. "This is the best time my husband has ever showed me since we've met, and he's taken me to the Fat Cat. Five times, actually. Every tax season, he and I blow our entire tax returns on macaroni and cheese and Golden Monkey ales. Those things fuck you up, especially when you have a shitload of them. The owner of that place is the most Quincy dude ever. I fucking love this city."


Patrick Crenshaw, a mercenary among drummers, giving the skins a brutal pounding.

In a seemingly unrelated event, the body of a murdered Quincy woman was found just hours after Tik Tok's groundbreaking set in a small group of weeds at the far end of the Beachcomber's parking lot. The victim has not yet been identified, as authorities have stated that all of her teeth were removed, and her fingerprints had been soaked to a state of extreme prunage in what appeared to be Clubman brand after shave, making it virtually impossible to go near the body without starting to gag.

"We're currently asking anyone with information on this brutal attack to please step forward," commented notorious diabetic cop, Nico Haylen, who has been assigned to head the investigation. "As of now, the only thing found at the crime scene was a John Adams-style powdered wig and an empty Great One cup from Dunkin' Donuts. No other information is known at this time. The victim is approximately 5'8", female, and in her early-to-mid-twenties. We are asking anyone who knows of any missing persons, suspicious happenings, or anything even remotely shady, to be please come forward, as this information could lead to the speedy arrest of this vicious killer. I may not be the best cop on the force, but I think you all know what's gonna happen to this guy if I find him. Any information that anyone has, no matter how small it may seen, I have to know. This is a career maker I have on my hands. I'm gonna need some help with it. Throw me a frickin' bone, okay?"

Check out the band for yourself: Tik Tok (MySpace)

Israeli-Palestinian peace talks at Ups N’ Downs interrupted by Quincy-Dorchester feud

Article by Beak Wilder and Brunk Edwards / Photos courtesy of the World Wide Web

Peace talks between Israel and Palestine were interrupted yesterday morning at the Ups N’ Downs bar on the “Quinchester” line, as fighting broke out between residents of Quincy and Dorchester after representatives from both crews were discovered to be wearing the same Dropkick Murphys shirt, resulting in one of the largest scale blowouts this area has seen in days.

Those who were present at the meeting included Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin "Bibi" Netanyahu, Egyptian President Muhammad Hosni Mubarak, and Louis Farrakhan, last in the news for prevented a major feud between local rap artists, Neal Diamondz and Dirty Dez the Chef.

The peace talks were arranged by the United Nations and overseen by the U.S. government with direct involvement from President Barack Obama. While both sides of the conflict were prepared for a long day of stressful negotiations, none expected the absolute hatred and bloodshed that would erupt from some of history’s most bitter rivals: Quincy and Dorchester.

While the talks were originally to take place in a closed meeting hall in Washington, D.C., there was a last minute change of location, which was explained by Matt Duffman, a former Quincy resident and Level 3 sex offender with absolutely no involvement in the world of politics.

“Looks like this was supposed to go down in D.C.,” mused Duffman, a sly individual with a penchant for being in the right place at the right time, and a voracious appetite for clean pairs of Adidas sneakers. “I found an envelope on the T today with all this top secret info about these peace talks, shit looks nuts. Apparently, Mayor Koch convinced Obama to move it to Ups N’ Downs. The envelope was addressed to someone named “Joe Schlopp." Man, that dude is gonna be the most fired come Monday morning. That dude's all fuckin' done. There’s all this shit in there about how Quincy has 40% tax breaks on peace talks, they offer $50 coupons towards bar tabs for international politicians, and how Koch successfully brokered a peace deal between Germantown and Wollaston kids back in 1996, which he calls the “Good Friday Agreement – of Quincy.” Now, I’m no Anderson Cooper, I couldn’t give a shit about the Middle East. As long as I get a good deal on Adidas sneakers made by some little fuckers in Asia, I’m as happy as a motherfucker.”

Ups N’ Downs, known to some as “The Pony Room,” and to others as “the absolute last place on Earth I’m drinking at,” has a spotty record, at best, for being able to maintain what they refer to as "non-violence." While a sign on the staircase leading to the upstairs dance floor proudly proclaims that: “There has been absolutely no religious, political, or townie violence for 99 days,” there was little else to calm the tension in the air that fateful day.

“I opened the bar at about 7:45AM for the special occasion,” stated owner Jacky “Wing Nut” McGregor. “I even personally swept up the puke and broken glass from the night before, tossed out the coke bag wrappers that were all over the floor, and hung up some welcome banners for these crazy fucks. Although I couldn’t find anything in CVS that said ‘Welcome Israeli-Palestinian Peace Coalition,’ so I just went with ‘Happy Birthday’ signs and mixed in a few ‘Congratulations!’ ones. It’s all good.”

According to McGregor, all seemed to fare well for the peace talks until Danny “Jabba” Jabenski, a known OxyContin dealer from Montclair, walked into the bar and ordered the official beverage of Quincy, a Bud Light, or “BL Smooth,” as it has come to be known in some circles. It was at that point that Steve “Man So Ruthless” O’Hare, a vicious motherfucker from the hard end of Dorchester, noticed that he and Jabenski were wearing the same attire.

“I’m not gonna lie to you,” commented Patrick Crenshaw, the Ups N’ Downs’ house drummer. “I was pretty fucking scared. Those two kids just started going at it, and the whole bar erupted into a full blown riot. All the Dorchester and Quincy kids in there just started getting all up in each others’ faces, it was fucking crazy. And Farrakhan must have thought it was some type of rap beef, because he stood right up and tried squashing it, but they just took that little motherfucker and tossed him right down the stairs. I don’t care how important to the Nation of Islam that guy is, he still makes the same sounds as anybody else when he’s tumbling down a set of steps, that’s for sure.”

Slim Tim McJim, an ironically named chubby bastard from Minot Street in Dorchester, arrived at the bar minutes after it opened, and was present during much of the trouble. “I was cruisin’ back over the Neponset Bridge from a hard night’s drinking in Quincy," he said. "That's when I saw that the Pony Room was opening up early. I almost drove my Cadillac right off the bridge, kid. I was pumped. Usually, when I’m driving back that way, I just 'mean-mug' Sozio Furniture. I mean, what the fuck is up with that place? Have you ever seen anyone in there, ever? In all my twenty-nine years on this planet, I have never seen a single fucking soul in that place---man, woman, or beast. It’s sheer madness, dude. What the fuck is going on there? But, yo, I digress, this time I lucked out and got an early start at 'The Ups.' Straight pounding Stellas at 8:30AM. All day, son. All day.”

Brendan Strem, a 23-year-old from Wilmington Street in Quincy, was front and center during the ruckus. “People were wailing the shit out of each other," he stated. "I put a lit cigar out on somebody’s neck. I saw a dude with a black Kangol scally cap, a gold chain, and a Dropkick Murphys shirt suckerpunch a dude wearing the exact same outfit on the dance floor. People were so coked out and drunk that it just wouldn’t end. Two dudes had one guy on the ground and were jumping on his head like a trampoline to the beat of some Big Daddy Kane song that was blaring in the background. It was like a friggin’ circus in there. That Netanyahu fool kept screaming, ‘I’m going back to the Middle East, this is too crazy!’ I think someone eventually just gunned a fuckin' pool ball off his face to shut him up. I hope so, at least. Man, that dude has an obnoxious voice.”

Netanyahu was visibly shaken during the feud and was later seen being held in a comforting manner by Muhammad Hosni Mubarak outside the bar after the initial fighting broke out. “This was a terrible idea. Why? Why were they so violent and unreasonable? Who is this Doctor Murphy (sic) that is causing such attacks? Your Mayor Koch has deceived us. This is a bad place and not the ‘beautiful riverside resort’ that he claimed it was. I don't understand how two groups of people, both of which appear to be quite the same, at least from an outsider's prospective, can't just settle their differences and get along. It seems so foolish to me.”

Netanyahu and Mubarak were then escorted quickly into a waiting SUV as a full set of turntables was launched out of the window at them. According to authorities on both sides, the turntables were assumed to belong to DJ Silent Partner, a Squantum native who had no business being there in the first place.


Left to right: Netanyahu, Mubarak, Farrakhan / Bottom: Townie Douchebags

McGregor was spotted illegally dumping a trash bag that appeared to contain a female leg into the Neponset River just moments later.

There is no word yet on if the peace talks will resume in a more appropriate setting, whether the mayor’s office will issue any official statements, who won the fight, or if anyone has ever been inside the Sozio Furniture building.

Hollywood heartthrob Nick Nolte makes surprise appearance at local coffee shop, challenges entire city to feats of strength

Article by Beak Wilder and Brunk Edwards / Photo courtesy of Kevin Hammark

In a strange and unexpected turn of events, Nick Nolte, the Hollywood actor who became an overnight Quincy sensation after starring in a movie called The Golden Bowl, made a surprise appearance this morning at the Coffee Break Cafe on Old Colony Avenue in Wollaston.

The Hollywood legend arrived at 6:35AM this morning, as was shown by a smashed wristwatch that Mr. Nolte tossed carelessly on the hood of a nearby Toyota Corolla. Combining a grizzled facade with a working man’s handshake, the actor was easily able to earn the immediate fear and respect of both staff and customers of the cafe. Barking out an order for “three boiling hot pots of black coffee---as black as the souls in Hell---and a corn muffin," Nolte then stared down a middle aged woman until she vacated her seat, which he then placed himself in with the casual flair and finesse of a severely wounded wildebeest. While business returned to normal, the actor spent the next two hours playing a one-man game of Connect Four while growling uncontrollably.

Meanwhile, civilians from as far away as Mascot Chef and Andre's Market could hear the shocking and appalling sounds from Nolte’s mid-nineties Ford Tempo, as all windows and doors were left wide open, exposing all in the surrounding area to the scandalous sounds of an extremely graphic romance novel on audio cassette.

It was at that point when Nolte allegedly met up with Dino Bland and Moranzo Llamas, two local day laborers who were unable to find work for the day, and decided to spend the day fucking shit up with a movie star.

"That's when Nolte stood up," commented Vick Noelery, an intense young employee at the impressively organized, independently owned coffee shop. "As soon as he met up with those other two, things started to change. I can't remember everything, but, when he saw those two come in, something in his brain just snapped. I couldn't help but to look at him standing there. He was magnificent, like no other I had ever seen. He was the perfect specimen. There was a calming chill in the air, but it only lasted for a moment. Nolte and I were looking directly at each other, but it was more like we were looking through each other, into each other's minds. I couldn't help but to get scared by what I saw in there. It was a dark mind. It was completely null and void of any form of human emotion. There was no rhyme, no reason, no rhythm. It was the quintessential darkness that all men know and fear, yet they put it into the depths of their minds, hoping that they can control it, that urge to dive face-first into the middle, just to see what it's like. And the whole time, all I can think is, "Oh, please, Nolte, no...don't you leave me here in the dark." That's when I felt the piercing plastic rows and columns of Connect Four come crashing into my face at the speed of a funky dragon. The next thing I know, I'm falling backwards, and I think there was blood in my eyes, It seemed to take forever for me to hit the floor. It was like I was being cradled by an unseen force. The last thing I remember is coming to the realization that Nick Nolte had absolutely no pockets. Everything he was wearing---his pants, his shirt, his jacket, the pair of shorts he had over the pants---none of them had any pockets. What kind of person leaves the house without wearing anything that has pockets? You can't live your life without a pocket."

By 9:13AM, Quincy Police were receiving reports of madness and mayhem throughout the streets. Names like "Nolte," "Bland," and "Llamas" quickly became noticed as the common denominator in almost all of these situations. A special task force was then assembled, utilizing the strongest minds and bodies within the department's riot squad, Special Forces, and whatever Germantown, West Quincy, or Hough's Neck kids were in holding cells at the time.

"We received quite a few calls in regards to what was described as 'an obvious homeless man,' challenging pedestrians to drinking contests, arm wrestling, slam dunk contests, and badminton tournaments," stated Officer Nico Haylen, Quincy's lovable, but extremely dangerous, diabetic cop. "Out came the guns for me, that's for sure. We knew it must be Nolte. This isn't the first time he's pulled this shit in Quincy. That guy must have family here, or something. I dunno, either way, it was Nolte or me, and today just didn't seem like a good day to die."

Approximately four hours later, at which point there were fourteen confirmed dead and many more left injured, Nolte allegedly parted ways with Bland and Llamas and simply headed back to wherever it was he came from. Local police have made no comment as to why they were unable to locate Nolte during the ongoing riot, or "strengthcapade," as the actor himself calls it, leaving the unanswered question as to why they didn't just wait by his car until he returned for it, or, at the very least, monitor his frequently updated, extremely accurate Twitter.

"They really blew it on this one," said Jimmy Flynn, a local buffoon who has dedicated his entire life to embracing the ironic side of humor, yet does not own a tape deck. "They let Nolte get away. They let him loose on humanity. Sooner or later, somebody's gonna have to answer for that."

QUINCY SCALLION UPDATE!!!

At 8:15PM this evening, Nick Nolte turned himself into authorities, claiming he was "stripped of cash and could use the free breakfast." The Quincy Police department has yet to release an official statement, however, it is presumed that whoever is currently interrogating Mr. Nolte is having a fucking blast.


Nolte, just after turning himself into authorities for the free McDonald's breakfast.

There is still, at this point in time, no word from Bland and Llamas, the mysterious, odd-job-working duo who seemingly teamed up with Nolte this morning and were somehow able to evade authorities, much like everyone else involved. There is no word yet on their intentions, nor is their any confirmation as to what their capabilities are. The only thing known for sure is that they are both extremely good looking men. Stay tuned until more information on this developing story is made available.

Mayor Koch finally admits to disliking women

Article by Beak Wilder / Photos courtesy of the World Wide Web

Mayor Thomas Koch, the uneducated, vertically challenged “man-boy” in charge of Quincy and its $227 million dollar annual budget, inadvertently revealed yesterday in a press conference that he has very little tolerance for women.

The press conference, which was held in the basement level of the former Grossman’s to discuss Quincy’s long running cold war with Braintree, took place yesterday afternoon, and reportedly cost the city over a thousand dollars in pizza delivery fees, most of which was devoured by Koch almost instantly.

Among those who attended the conference were mayoral candidate Tom Turkolio and Lynn Seagreen, the Murphy’s bartender who was hired by the city to train pit bulls to fight to the death in “blood sports” for the upcoming August Moon Festival.

It was at this press conference that Mayor Koch allegedly told Nicole Abruzappa, a self-proclaimed mother of ten, to “sit down and speak when spoken to,” causing a brief moment of laughter among spectators, followed by a delayed sense of disbelief and uncertainty that was so thick, you could cut it with a fucking knife.

In an exclusive one-on-one interview, Tom Turkolio told the Scallion his side of the events. “It’s time,” Turkolio said. “Time to set the record straight. Mayor Koch is a misogynistic, misanthropic, unintelligent bastard, and has no credibility as a mayor. He doesn’t even have a college degree. What other industry that you know of would allow a man with no college education to run an organization with a multimillion-dollar budget? Seriously, think about that. That dude is a disgusting maggot. He had an entire piece of pizza in his mouth throughout the whole press conference, and he actually thought he was pulling it off without anybody noticing. It was fucking gross. He just kept chewing on it in between sentences and lightly muttering shit like, "This is so good," and "God, I love pizza." Do you want somebody like that in office, or do you want somebody like me? I crawled up forty stories the other day just to get a bumblebee away from an American flag. That's where my priorities are---where are his? Mayor Koch is going down in this next election, you can count on that much. I’ve taken on losers like him in my past, and I can tell you right now that I walk the walk, and my path will be his last.”


Tom Turkolio, forty stories high, saving an American flag from a mischievous bumblebee.

A written apology was sent out shortly after the press conference by odd job extraordinaire, Joe Schlopp, in which the mayor blamed a “poor choice of words” for the confusion caused by his remarks to Abruzappa.

This apology was rendered somewhat meaningless only hours after it was released, however, as Mayor Koch emerged from the Presidential Pub, reeking of vodka and pineapple juice, and began running his mouth, yet again. “A lot of people say that women are catty,” the mayor commented. “Personally, I think they’re more like dogs. You tell a woman to do something, she does it. Cats almost never listen. But there are a lot of great things that women can do, too, as strange as that sounds. Most of them can type up to three times faster than the average man. That’s over thirty words per minute, for those of you who don’t know. And some of them are excellent at other things, like ironing, for example. Without the help of women, I wouldn’t be able to rock my khakis with a cuff and a crease. And don’t even get me started on blowjobs. Whatever woman invented those things clearly had no idea how often we were going to want them. And their work in hosting fetuses in the womb is unparalleled. Without women, the world as we know it would cease to exist. But that doesn’t necessarily make them equal, does it? The world would cease to exist without rain, but that doesn’t mean it’s as important as the sun, right? Let’s be realistic here. It's not that I hate women, I just dislike them.”

When asked what college Tom Turkolio graduated from, he merely stated “the school of hard knocks,” leading many to believe that he was evading the question altogether. There is still no word as to why he keeps strategically incorporating Madball lyrics into his quotes, nor has there been any confirmation as to whether, or not, he realizes he is doing it.

City gamblers rejoice as game of chance is introduced to already risky convenience store

Article by Beak Wilder and Brunk Edwards / Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web

In a bold and daring business move, the Quincy Center Station convenience store has finally agreed to dabble in the world of Keno, the lovable, but sometimes devastatingly bank-breaking, Mass Lottery game, in which there is no possible way of losing, unless, of course, you do not choose the correct numbers.

Red line commuters will now be able to risk it all with a thrilling game of Keno before and after their boring, urine-scented train rides, leaving some locals so excited that they can barely contain it.

“I’m gonna win hundreds playing this game,” claimed Freddy Dunka, a Merrymount legend known for constantly making people smell his fingers after Germantown parties. “Maybe even thousands. I'm gonna take one of those little pencils and bet on every fucking number there is. Easy as cake!”

Risk takers from all walks of life, more often than not, the lowest of the low, can now try their luck at the store in the hopes of achieving the American dream: to win insane amounts of unearned money in a split second. But the lure of easy money may prove to be too much for some, as evidenced by the blood-curdling screams of Tito “The Fake Indian” McGarnigle, a legendary Quincy Center Station character who lost his entire life savings of forty-three dollars in the blink of an eye.

The store, located directly across from the ill-reputed, now defunct, Donut & Donuts coffee shop, has threatened commuters with a good time since the game of Keno was invented, but never actually followed through with having the gambling game available in the store until now.


The hilariously incorrect "Play Keno On Here" sign / Photo courtesy of Moranzo Llamas

”I don’t really understand what’s going on here,” commented Charlene “Labia Face” Tucker, an unfortunate looking woman from the bowels of Quincy Point. “I'm glad that they're trying to keep up with the times, but, from the looks of those signs they have hanging up, it appears that the Keno section is located on the roof. It’s like Quincy Center is starting some sort of rooftop gambling racket. It's very confusing.”

This is not the first time a sign in the store has led customers astray. Two summers ago, a monumental error in grammar offered consumers “Free Cigarette Puppies.” This was only remedied after staff thwarted repeated attempts by high school kids to add copious amounts of Camel Lights to their frozen fountain drinks.

"This is a classic example of utilizing the rooftop loophole," remarked Audrey Baloney, Boston's eighth highest regarded rooftop criminal analyst. "You see, a lot of people don't realize this, but local police have no jurisdiction on rooftops. That's why people always act the fool when they're on one. If this convenience store is actually trying to start a Keno gambling ring on the roof of Quincy Center Station, there's really nothing anybody can do about it. All I can do is analyze the crime, I can't stop it. I'm a 9-to-5 girl, I'm not getting all involved in that. What do you want from me, it's not like I'm Bruce Willis, or anyone like that. Write a complaint letter if you want, I've already got plenty. I'll put it right in the bottom of the pile. It don't matter to me."

So far, the seemingly unnamed convenience store has denied all allegations of attempting to start a rooftop criminal gambling enterprise, nor do they appear to even realize the horrid solecism that has occurred.

Local fundraiser accidentally turns into all-night dance party, sets tone for summer

Article by Beak Wilder / Photo courtesy of the World Wide Web

A fundraiser was held yesterday afternoon for mayoral candidate, Jeff Brophy, at the Casa de Crazy* in the Mount Wollaston section of Quincy.
*Spanish for "Brophy's House"

The fundraiser, which was initially planned to be a small gathering of wealthy investors, reportedly blossomed into a state of utter lunacy after a bottle of Patrón XO Cafe was smuggled out of Brophy's kitchen and unleashed into the crowd.

"That was no fundraiser," claimed Bucky Greengrass, a known party crasher from the God's Country section of Montclair. "That was a straight-up party. The political agenda was so subtle, it almost wasn't even there."

Matters were then made worse when rival candidate, Tom Turkolio, arrived on the scene, sporting an electric yellow t-shirt, temporarily blinding anyone who looked in his general direction.

"That fucking dude burned the retinas right outta my head," screamed Moranzo Llamas, an eccentric day laborer known for constantly exaggerating his side of the events. "What does that dude think, he can just show up in Quincy, blind everybody in sight, and then get our votes come November? Me and my friend, Brendan, will probably never be able to see again. Once every five years, or so, something really horrible happens to Brendan's face, and this was just one of those times. Fuck that shit. I'm voting Jeff Brophy for mayor!"

Approximately two hundred dollars was raised at the event, which was immediately "applied to the campaign" when a man known only as "Wavy Davey" spent the entire amount on a bag of miscellaneous nips, purchased out of the back door of Franklin Beer and Wine after closing time by utilizing a series of secret knocks and bird calls.

"I no like Wavy Davey," remarked Chow "The Malaysian Asian" Fung, a Franklin Beer and Wine clerk who participated in the shady deal. "Wavy Davey never tip me---never, ever. I no trust Wavy Davey, he got the crazy eye. I pray that he burn in Hell. But in my heart, I know that Hell would no have him."

After countless hours of mutually enjoyed insanity, the event then came to a conclusion with a ten-minute-long recreation of the "gold watch scene" in Pulp Fiction, in which Brophy played the parts of both Christopher Walken and the young Bruce Willis, all while unsucessfuly attempting to hold in a huge twelve-beers-worth piss. As would be expected, this resulted in a brief and awkward moment of silence, followed by an impromptu 1970's style funk dance off.

"Kid, vote for me, kid," exclaimed Brophy as he put his "puppy dog face" on to ask his mother to cut the crust off his peanut butter and jelly sandwich for him. "What dude is gonna get Quincy more fucked up than me, kid? Me, that's fuckin' who. Kid, this kid right here is the fuckin' kid, kid. That shit would be fuckin' nasty, kid. My boy DJ Knife and I are gonna issue every Quincy kid a pea coat and shell toes on their eighteenth birthday. Dude, there'd be bitches and broads all over the place, it'd be fuckin' hilarious. Fuck Tom Turkolio. That dude's not even from fuckin' Quincy, kid. He wouldn't survive two fuckin' hours in Quincy, if you ask me. He's a fuckin' ironworker shitbag, that's what he is. Dude probably voted for fuckin' Hillary Clinton. I hate Hillary Clinton. What a fuckin' rotten hatchet wound that old bitch is, huh? What a fuckin' whore. Anybody who doesn't vote for me is gonna get fuckin' knuckled the fuck up, right upside their fuckin' head, kid."

According to multiple eyewitness accounts, Tom Turkolio spent at least six hours at the Quincy event and is assumed to have survived it just fine.