David Thayer

With jury selection, adverse selection, and natural selection almost complete, there came the stunning revelation that Duane Parvenu, Juror Six, is a Googlebot. Mr. Parvenu was exposed during a meal break when he opened a panel in his skull to pour Gatorade into a reservoir behind his left ear. “I was showing him how to grip a two seam fastball,” reported Juror Nine, Mrs. Wendy Bulwer-Lytton, of Peekskill. “He said “excuse me” and poured Gatorade into his head.” “He also knew the capital of Lesotho,” she added.

Judge Hamilcar Frist ordered the band to play “Houses of the Holy” during Mandy Rice-Davies dramatic entrance into the courtroom. Rice-Davies wore a red leather miniskirt and a white pillbox hat according to eyewitnesses. Prosecutor Gonads demanded that a charge be appended to the bill. “Those spiked heels are a lethal weapon,” he cried. One of the fat guys fell out of the jury box when Mandy winked at him; a barrage of cabbages and day old Napoleons accompanied cries of “she’s guilty” from the gallery. Judge Frist performed a hand stand that settled the crowd.

A Motion in limine was filed. Political correspondents, Puffy n Scooter, reported that the Crown planned to add a Greek Chorus to the prosecution team led by local thespian and Walmart greeter Arthur “Boom Boom” Geoffrion. “Mr. Geoffrion will cry out from time to time to emphasize points of order, points of law, and remind the jury of how guilty the defendants are.” He will be backed up by the Inner Goth Chorale.

DCI Borchardt took the googlebot into custody. “He may have obtained the Gatorade through defrauding a vending machine,” Borchardt said. “He was in possession of several Canadian quarters,” he added. Alternate Juror, Graciella Pace, will stand in for the duration.

The Earl is not scheduled to appear for several days, according to Borchardt. He’s being held in lieu of bond at the Fillmore East extension of City Jail. His attorney, D&L cub reporter Anna Nicole, is having a fundraiser Saturday night at the Bingo Palace on Newbury Place. “It’s a Polka Night,” Anna said. The first five guests will be flown to the French Riviera. “Come early,” she urged.

In a scandal without precedent the literary blog “One More Bite of the Apple” has been taken over by characters whose existence is in doubt. Page Seven reporter Concetta Comedia della Arta asserts that reliable sources with impeccable literary credentials have confirmed her breaking story. Concetta has devoted weeks to analyzing various posts from the blog while lunching at the fabulous Chez Stadium, her only means of transport an AMC Hornet. “This is not about me,” she said. “This is about a scandalous deception and literary hoax.”

Concetta’s Page Seven Exclusive entitled, “Roman soldiers? I haven’t seen any Roman soldiers,” is a hard hitting look at the supposed invasion of California. “My friends on the coast tell me everything is cool,” Concetta said. “If LA were under seige would Brad and Angelina have returned?”

While it is not clear who Brad and Angelina are, Concetta’s next point is damaging: “The blog is supposed to be about literature, right? That’s like books and boring stuff like that. What does throwing turnips and emperor penguins have to do with books? If the Dowager Princess tried out for the Jets why isn’t she at mini-camp?”

The storm of allegations brought this rebuttal from Wilfredo Tagesblatt Vice President of Development: “i’m sure Concetta has no axe to grind even though she was fired from the Druidical & Literary. That’s the real scandal here.”

Waltraut Frothingmunster, Postmistress of Wellington Leg, and author in her own right, agreed with Mr. Tagesblatt. “These tabloids will stoop to anything to sell papers,” she said. “My front garden is knee deep in Marie Calendar Boston Cream Pies. Perhaps Concetta would like to stop by and help me clean this mess up.”

Ms. Comedia della Arta conceded that she did see an emperor penguin in police custody late yesterday afternoon. “That doesn’t mean that the rest of this stuff is true,” she said. Concetta also admitted that her appearance on Letterman may be on hold. “I’m standing by my story. The blog is out of control.”

Dateline Wellington Leg: With the runoff election looming none of the candidates have run off according to Prudentia Chalfont-Smythe, chair of the election commission and heiress to the Smythe Oven fortune. The incumbent, Hizzoner Jimmy Stones, held a slim lead after Sunday’s baby kissing fiasco wherein Hizzoner kissed the mom not the proferred baby. The unidentified woman retaliated with a bottle of Windex leaving Hizzoner’s glasses fogged although remarkably clean after aides and sycophants applied a damp cloth to his specs. Frankie Pins remains in second while writein candidate our own Anna Nicole has gained ground. Lobbyist Puffy thinks the race is too close to call.

The winner will be the master of ceremonies at this year’s Literary Faire. The long list for the coveted Snooker Award, won last year by Chalfont-Smythe, is sequestered on the Isle of Mitch visible from shore on Tuesdays with fair winds. It was Anna Nicole who discovered that troops from the Vicesima Claudia legion were constructing a causeway from the island. Causeway construction is a class B felony according to Constable AJC Constable of the Marine Patrol. “The Romans may simply be dumping large rocks into the sea,” he observed. Indeed skirmishers crossed the American River “offering taunts and challenges” to the Governor. “That’s not fair,” Constable Constable added.

With the weather clearing the invaders are emboldened said DCI Borchardt. Over the weekend elements from the Valeria Victrix legion were routed after Mrs. Chalfont-Smythe read from her epic poem “Wolfman Jack.” The 405 will reopen vowed Borchardt and outlet malls, a favorite target of Roman derision, will once again be operational. Borchardt’s “Wellington Leg Confidential” is believed to be on the long list if only because of his torrid affair with Chalfont-Smythe. Concetta Comedia della Arta reporting.

Special to Weekend Edition of the Druidical & Literary: these stories while based on fact, are not based on facts relevant to the stories but rather other facts such as the exact height of the Colossus at Rhodes. Your reporter, armed only with a thesaurus and a primitive map of the New World, can only speculate as to how these facts may influence the course of human events. Call it budget cuts, call it shoddy journalism, these stories are sponsored by Bill’s House of Cars on the Romantic Road. Need a car? Bill’s Pledge to You: Your credit history is not a problem at Bill’s House of Cars. Free loaners for life. Tell Bill the exact height of the Colossus at Rhodes and win a chamois! Here now the news:

Judges from the Court of Public Opinion were arrested in a dawn raid by members of the Flying Squad. Acting on an anonymous tip police and paramilitary units from Fort Santorum assaulted the residence of Judge Crater. Several of the jurists were discovered in the neighboring village of Flagrante Delicto according to witnesses. A crate of Richard Cheney masks were confiscated along with a quantity of knockoff French Perfumes. “The smell was terrible,” reported Mrs. Jolie of Portobello Court in Goth. Barrels of watered down Chanel fragrances floated ashore near the estuary late Saturday night. “Red abalone beached themselves,” said DCI Borchardt. “We’ve nipped this smuggling ring in the bud.”

Suspicion fell on the Earl whose high street emporium The Nose Knows has violated anti-witchcraft ordnances. Mrs. Anderson-Cooper, Prosecutrix, interviewed in a hot air balloon, believes that the master of MV Longueduc conspired with the earl to flood the market with cheap perfume. “This is a scene from Voltaire’s Miasma,” she claimed, referring to the earl’s self-published potboiler wherein a philosopher turns to piracy. “They’re guilty of barratry.”

Counsel for the Defense Mr. Putts reminded everyone that the earl was in possession of a “Letter of the mart” signed by the Dowager Princess. “He is an authorized buccaneer.” Opening arguments will be presented in a alphabetical order according to Judge Crater. “There will be order in the court,” he vowed.

Dateline Wellington Leg: The virtual offices of the Druidical & Literary were raided shortly after dawn. The raid involved very tiny people wearing specialized equipment such as official Old Guy Sunglasses and Google Chest Protectors. Thus equipped the members of the flying squad were delivered into cyberspace with a specially modified squirt gun designed by D&L reporter and apparent turncoat, Bobby G. The warrants were provided by Judge Crater who indicated in court documents that he was tired of “missing out.” The jurist’s sympathies were aroused by Bobby G’s continued complaining about working from a stairwell, albeit a virtual one.

Collected in the raid were “various blogging impedimenta and equipamentos” according to reporter Aemelia Erhardt. These objects were gathered during a surprise heat wave that forced many of the strike team members to don damp cloths worn on their skulls. In one frightening encounter two men wearing identical Old Guy Sunglasses collided from five feet away, interrupting the flow of data from the blogger’s lair. Several pair of bunny slippers were confiscated.

Mrs. Prudentia Chalfont-Smythe ordered the raid after weekend “posts” were found to be both “offensive and silly.” She promises that new staff will be assigned to the Druidical & Literary as soon as suitable candidates can be interviewed. “I think the opinions of people…wearing bunny slippers must perforce be rejected out of hand,” she said. In an embarrassing sidebar to the story Chalfont-Smythe was discovered wearing Boris and Natasha slippers she claimed not to recognize. This is the earl reporting.

A peaceful Sunday in Wellington Leg turned curious when city officials began digging a massive trench near the Olde Towne. This reporter was unable to confirm a rumor that Jimmy Hoffa may be buried near the statue of Venus We Barely Knew Ye not far from Frankie Avalon Square. DCI Borchardt flew in from the BEA conference in Washington DC where he toured the Rose Garden after pitching his manuscript, Little Women, Big City to famed editor Dan Conaway. In an odd twist of fate the main character in Brochardt’s novel believes she runs the Teamsters Union. Borchadt reported that Mr. Conaway said “hmm” at one point during the pitch.

Borchardt also reports dancing with Miss Snark at the agents cotillion held in the DuPont Circle mansion of Bruce Wayne. “I think it was…she,” Borchardt said. They performed a series of latter day Polkas written by the Dowager Princess as she prepares to assume the throne of Bavaria. Her company car, an eight series Beemer, was provided courtesy of Bayerische Motoren Werke.

City officials were vague about when the massive dig might conclude. Captain Kirk of the Wellington Leg Constabulary suggested that commuters “avoid the center of towne whilst refraining from digging on their own.” A Mrs. Eudora Sparks of Goth was cited for “unauthorized use of a digging implement” late Saturday. “It’s a scandal,” said attorney J. Grisham of Number 3 Haversham Close. “She was gardening.” “It’s a fine line between gardening and searching for Jimmy Hoffa,” remarked Borchardt. “We’ll see her in court.”

Later today we’ll run an interview with novelist Cornelia Read. Right now though the blog is being turned over to the Board of Directors for a commercial word.  A  proxy fight is raging behind the scenes, but the Board puts on a public show of solidarity. Management suffered greatly during the earl’s chimney captivity or as it called around here simply Twenty Six Days. The February board meeting was disrupted by the hogs who drank freely from ornate decanters, trampling the Minutes underfoot. The incident probably killed any chance of having Steve Jobs take over as Chairman and so we’re stuck with Wilfredo Tagesblatt and the lobby’s odd wildebeast decor. Hogs fear the wildebeast according to security chief Anthony “Tony Prawns” Palmesano. “The hogs are on notice. There’s a new sheriff in town.”

Around the horn: Booksquare and Gwenda Bond discuss Jeff Ford’s The Girl in the Glass over on the LBC blog. Sara Gran has an ad for Dope on Metaxu Cafe and reports Bud Parr is taking the plunge to read Sara’s work. Tod Goldberg held off angry parade editors attending the LA Festival of Books over the weekend. No word yet regarding Mark Sarvas’ designer sunglasses but somewhere a centurion in the Vicesima Claudia Legion is styling these days. The Roman invaders have yet to reach the UCLA campus although they’ve seized much of Burbank, imperiling the fall television schedule.

Our own Geraldo was assigned to cover the LA Festival of Books from a remote location in the New Jersey pine barrens. His fake reportage is a staple here and he outdid himself by interviewing the reclusive JT Leroy. Geraldo is shopping his memoir I Forget How Much I Know Sometimes. An early draft was damaged in a fall blamed on paper clip failure. He reminds us all to Buy American.

Dateline Wellington Leg: Four year old Eugenia Phaeton of suburban Goth has signed a seventy book deal with an unnamed publisher announced Lydia Careerbreaker, Ueberagent. Ms. Careerbreaker was struck by Eugenia’s unusual wit in an email about preschool politics. “She captured the zeitgeist perfectly,” said Professor Moriarity who reviewed the email exchange while rebuilding a small bore Lotus. “The day goes faster,” she wrote, “when Timmy is sick.”

“When Timmy is Sick” has been optioned for film by Milo Minderbender Enterprises for seven figures and a box of crayons. Storyboards have been erected in places frequented by Eugenia in the event inspiration strikes. “The completed manuscript is due in July,” said Eddie “No Pressure” Testarossa. Page One was lost in a peanut butter and jelly industrial accident according to claims adjuster Big Hands Teddy Wonk. “It’s a total loss,” Big Hands said.

Despite the setback handlers and wranglers assigned to the project are optimistic. “No cartoons for Eugenia,” said an unnamed source not very close to the situation. “Her tour of Baltimore is on hold.”

Professor Moriarity hopes to have his Lotus roadworthy by the time “When Timmy is Sick” reaches editors this summer. “I hope she likes Gummibears,” he said. Forty thousand of them were located in the boot of the Lotus. “Still edible, but the colors are odd.”