The Barrow Downs Newspaper

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Originally Posted by Groin Redbeard

Another nail biting thriller from Hookbill. I was wondering when Legate would come into the story, and his role is perfect just how I imagine him to be. I was laughing the whole way through, especially at The Docter part and the wolf killing wolf killing the other wolves, ‘Just obeying orders!’

Indeed, it is better and better (of course it must be better when Legate is in it, right? ). But I laughed so much at the simple exchange:

But I’m learning not to trust anyone at the moment, not after Groin tried to strangle me with his beard.”
“That,” said Lommy, “was because you had been stealing his biscuits!”
“Lies! Lies and slander!”

Don't know why, it's just so funnily formulated Also when I imagine it...

And also, a note to one of the preceding things: I am starting to like Fungoltch and Shcmurt, mainly because I think I'm starting to get the point of the story It's really good! (I read the old one in which they were as well.)

[Hookbill the Goomba]

(A shorter episode today as I’ve been feeling a little unwell…)

Sitting on the damp bench, Legate opened his lunchbox. The rain was beginning to fall once again, hard and fast, thumping against his head with ferocity. The three bundles of crossbow bolts hidden within the box were freshly sharpened and polished. He handed a bundle to The Phantom, The Saucepan Man and Lommy; they loaded their crossbows and bowed to Legate.
“Be back before six,” he said, “otherwise you’ll miss lunch.” He chuckled, but The Phantom rolled his eyes.
Hookbill shivered, wrapping his newly acquired cloak around his shoulders and pulling the hood over his already soaked head. Turning to the left, he made a double take at a figure in the distance; he was dressed all in white with a white face mask. When he looked again, the figure was gone.
“What was that?” he asked,
“Oh, probably nothing,” said The Doctor, as if to someone else.
The Penguins marched on up the hill and waved goodbye to the others. Greenie shot down the next hill like a lightning bolt and Lommy followed close after. The Saucepan Man waved as they vanished and then turned to the others. They all nodded and plodded on in the other direction.
The path was broken and dirty; mud slimed over their shoes, slurping as they walked. Thunder rolled overhead, shaking their bones, which was quite painful. The Phantom strode on ahead, the bottoms of his robes were already blackened by the dirt and he hung his head as the rain hurtled down at them.
Over the next hill they crawled, hiding in the long grass. A tall building loomed in the next valley; it bore long glass windows and three stories. One of the rooms at the top was blackened, the windows smashed and flames dancing within. Outside the entrance three Werewolves prowled. The Phantom aimed his crossbow, but The Doctor pushed it down and shook his head. He held up a small, white paper bag and grinned.
The Wolves noticed a bright yellow object. It hit one of them on the nose. Picking it up, the central wolf sniffed it. The shape was like a human child, but no bigger than a pebble, what’s more it seemed to be made of jelly. Several more came raining down. With wide eyes, they began eating them. After one or two each, their heads began to grow heavy; their eyes wandered this way and that. They collapsed in a heap.
“They are vulnerable to Jelly babies?” said Hookbill,
“Sounds like a bit of luck to me!” said The Doctor,
“Sounds like lazy writing to me.”
They slunk past the sleeping Wolves and in through the entrance. The lobby was deserted, the main desk covered with dust and newspapers with graffiti all over them. Hookbill picked one up, ‘Wizard Menaced by Ghost of Ex-Beard’, it read. But over the picture of Narfforc, glasses and a moustache had been drawn in crayon.

“Why can’t we be doing the exciting stuff?” asked Greenie, “It’s just not fair.”
“What do you mean?” Lommy poked her in the stomach, “this IS exciting! Information gathering is an important part of taking down any government.” She adjusted the focus on her binoculars.
The Great Barrow was shrouded in hair. The tendrils flicked this way and that; waving like ghostly hands grappling at the air. Besides that, the place was utterly still. The rumbling thunder continued, louder here, drilling into their Pengish heads. Greenie shivered, sipping some tea from a flask with a picture of Legate’s face stitched on the side. She groaned as the eyes stared out at her.
Fumbling in her pocket, Lommy grasped an old fob watch and opened it up. The time was approaching dawn, even though the skies were still pitch dark. Lifting her head, Lommy’s beak tapped against something in front of her face. It was a metal leg. It belonged to a short bearded figure dragging a large sack up the hill.
“Make yourselves useful,” he said, “grab the other-” he examined the Penguins and closed his mouth with a snap. Stroking his thick beard, the Dwarf groaned and then sat down. “Please don’t kill me,” he said.
Lommy and Greenie turned to one another with raised eyebrows. Lommy nodded at her sister and then winked.
“Alright,” said the Green one, “but you’d better start talking. What’s your name?”
“Groin,” he moped, “Groin Bread Beard.”
Lommy prodded the sack and then pulled it open. She staggered back and held her beak. The stench was like a thousand rotten eggs mixed with the foulest dung available to humanity. It smelt like that because that’s what it was.

The Saucepan Man clattered down the corridor, tiptoeing and leaning against the wall. The others strode along behind with frowns as he kept trying to ‘shush’ them. The Doctor offered The Phantom a Jelly Baby, but he declined because it wasn’t wine flavoured.
On the walls several paintings were hung. There was one of a moustache, one of a beard and another, larger than the others, of a wig. Hookbill scowled at them.
“What have they done with my pictures of stamps?” he cried over the noise of The Saucepan Man, “And my painting of that interesting stone I once found in my bath! They’ll pay for every one!”
The Phantom paced up to The Saucepan Man and tapped him on the shoulder.
“What are we looking for?” he asked,
“Mr Goomba’s Office. I’m not sure where it is.”
“It’s over there,” said Hookbill, “Why didn’t you ask?”
“I just don’t like you.”
“Fair enough.”
They marched down towards the still burning door of Hookbill’s office. Papers, broken pots and a mangled typewriter were scattered on the floor and ceiling. The Saucepan Man held his nose as they stepped over the threshold. Wooden beams were smouldering on the ground at their feet; several things appeared to be moving in the ashes below. There were scratch marks in the walls and the wooden beams, even splats of blood could be seen here and there.
“If the cure is in here,” said Hookbill, “I think I’d have known about it. Besides, if you hadn’t noticed, it has been firebombed."
“And searched, no doubt,” said The Doctor, “see, here’s a note saying they’ve searched the room. ‘Found two bins, three embarrassing photos of The Master, but no cure as yet’… Hmm. Well, that’s encouraging, I suppose.”
“They didn’t know what they were looking for.” The Saucepan Man bent down in the corner and lifted one of the bins, “Here is the cure! In here!”
“You’re a loony.” Said The Phantom, “That’s a bin.”
“Indeed! You see, the complex social-economic system of bacteria and flies was so complex that it was sentient! The bacteria will be able to fight the virus off if we can get enough of them!” he removed the top of the bin and yelped, “It’s gone! Someone has taken all of the rubbish!”
“Yes,” said a voice, “that would have been the cleaners. Now, that is where I may have to take you lot.” Lalwende stepped into the room, tapping her hand with her truncheon, she began to laugh. Around her arm was a long strip of hair, glowing and writing as if it were alive. “The Master will be happy to see your heads on spikes.”

TO BE CONTINUED’ED

Tomorrow's BIG FINALE to The Story so Far will probably be extra long to make up for this one being a little brief. Sorry about that, folks. I've been having some problems with my medication after coming out of hospital so I was pretty much bed ridden today and couldn't write that much...

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Wow, but this one was no worse than the others, Hook. Sorry, I meant Bill. Hope you're going to feel better, because we're surely looking forward to the big finale (at least I am)!

[Eönwë]

Originally Posted by Legate of Amon Lanc

Hope you're going to feel better, because we're surely looking forward to the big finale (at least I am)!

Me too!

And quantity is not quality. Its amazing, without needing to be long. They're getting better each day.

[THE Ka]

Originally Posted by Narrator Hookbill

It smelt like that because that’s what it was.

Best simile closer- Ever!

~ Similes find metonymies boring Ka

[Hookbill the Goomba]

I hope you are all enjoying reading The Story So Far and looking forward to the 100th edition of the paper. Unfortunately I had to go back to hospital today because some nasty side effects of the medication went a little bad. I'm okay now, but bed ridden for a while. The final chapter of The Story So Far is half finished at the moment. If I feel up to it, it will be posted up some time tomorrow along with the 100th paper.

Sorry to make you wait.

[Groin Redbeard]

Your health is more important to us Hookbill, get better soon!

Bang on job with the story, I'll be up all night trying to guess what is going to happen next!

[Volo]

Originally Posted by Groin Redbeard

Your health is more important to us Hookbill, get better soon!

Indeed! Don't hurry!

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Lalwende marched forward, bobbing her head from side to side. At the doorway, Davem lent up against the wall and swayed his legs. He pushed his small, circular sunglasses up his nose and grinned. The smouldering fumes from the room hovered just above their ankles, grappling at their feet.
“Ah!" Said The Phantom, “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve caught these fugitives for you.”
“Shut up you!” Lal shoved him backwards, “Now, all of you, out of the window.”
“This window?” asked The Doctor,
“Any window!”
“Perfect! Come on!” He leaped past the two officers closely followed by the others. Lal gave chase while Davem sunk to his knees and began inhaling the smoke.
Hookbill glanced behind. Lalwende was getting closer, with her teeth gripped and her weapon waving in the air. He leaped over the fallen Werewolves who all had jelly babies in their mouths.
The Doctor leaped down the stairs and peered out of the first window. The figure in white waved to him from the top of the next hill.
“Who is that?” asked Hookbill, running into him,
“Doesn’t matter right now,” he mumbled, kicking the window down, “let’s keep escaping!”
They raced along the pathway going north. The Saucepan Man shook his head as he clattered and clanged along the way. The rain was still thick and soup-like. Chicken flavoured, Hookbill noticed. Harsh thunder rattled through the air, accompanied by a small earthquake. The Doctor stopped and listened as an aftershock shuddered through them.
“Ah,” he said, “the epicentre was north… North West.”
“The Great Barrow?” said The Phantom,
“Probably. Shall we go and see?” he grinned and swung his scarf around, whipping Lalwende in the face. She growled and clasped the two of them by the shoulders. Hookbill was already in the mud a few feet behind, groaning. The Saucepan Man was trying to lift the biggest pot off his eyes, but the dents were too tough.
“When I said, ‘Any Window’,” Lal began,
“Oh, you menant from that floor?” The Doctor shook his head and then her hand, “I do beg your pardon. This way is it?” he turned and pointed towards the Newspaper building. As Lal nodded, he strode forward, ripping the hair off her arm in one fell swoop. She cried out and swore at him with strong breaths.
Hookbill peered up and saw the police officer on her knees tending her arm while The Doctor analyzed the hair with his Sonic Screwdriver. There was some mumbling from The Phantom as he kicked over a small bucket close by.
“Just as I thought,” The Doctor turned to the others, “the Virus isn’t a virus after all! It’s living hair!”
“What?” Phantom raised an invisible eyebrow,
“Yes, interesting isn’t it? You see, when our friend, the little man poet, took over the world; he was just doing it for fun. But, if I remember rightly, he was a keen astronomer, who knows what he saw falling from the skies. This kind of living hair exists only on a few planets. And wherever it goes, all other life leaves. Not a pleasant thing by any stretch of the imagination.”
“What does this mean?” asked Hookbill,
“We need to find those bacteria,” he said, “and fast. It could still be the key. You, you’re coming with us.” He picked Lal up and pulled her along. Dazed and wobbling on her feet, she followed.

A flash of lightning wormed through the air as if it were badly constipated. Lommy poked Groin in the stomach with a stick as he fumbled with the sack. The two Penguins tapped their feet with grins. The Dwarf patted down his thick beard and mumbled again and again.
“What’s all this for?” asked Greenie, “What does old Mac want with all this… whatever this is?”
“Oh, well,” Groin scratched his head, “to make explosives.”
“Pardon?”
“This stuff, and the other stuff in the basements, set them alight and BOOM!”
Lommy tilted her head and then chuckled.
“I like this.” She said.

The Great Barrow Itself was no longer a sight to be marvelled at. It hadn’t been since The Barrow Wight’s last party, but it was no better now. The writhing hair twisted and spun around, flicking the air and grappling with the grass. The Doctor grimaced, wiping his brow with a small handkerchief.
Making their way down the hills, the travellers hid behind the Standing Stones, cold and tall. The entrance was down the pathway, but three Werewolves guarded it. Their faces were stern, their eyes bright and their teeth were always on show. The Doctor patted his pockets and frowned. He produced one empty bag of Jelly Babies and tossed it away. The Saucepan Man grinned and stood up.
“Watch and learn,” he said, tossing a pan towards the Wolves.
Two minutes later, they were bound and gagged. The Phantom kicked The Saucepan Man at every opportunity he got. A wolf prodded them with a blunt spear, forcing them down the passageways into the Great Barrow. The hair scuttled across the floor like lines of snakes, feeling the travelers and ticking their toes. Lalwende pulled at her hand ropes, growling at every wolf she saw.
Down, down, down into the deep darkness they were prodded. There was hair all over the walls, fidgeting, fighting and fermenting. Soon enough, there was no light. Even the Werewolves began bashing into one another. They continued on until, at last, they stumbled into a wide chamber. The air was cooler, yet dry, full of a deep musty smell. The floor was carpeted with hair. At the centre of the room rose a small shape, its purple eyes glowing like something purple that glows.
Torches were lit all around the room, the brightness, compared to the dark tunnels, was almost blinding. Macalaure stood up. He was a mass of hair. His beard seemed to have taken over his entire body, flowing over and out into the rest of the building. It moved by itself, turning this way and that, as if looking, or smelling, for something.
He stepped down and wandered towards the travellers, humming and chuckling. He reached out a fury arm and gripped a leaver. When he pulled it, the whole place began to shake, dust fell from the ceiling and the Wolves howled.
“Do you know what I’m going to do?” asked The Master,
“Well,” began The Doctor, but before he could speak any more, there was a brilliant flash of yellow light.

With hasty movements, the two Penguins backed their way out of the cellar leaving a trail of gunpowder. Groin raced on ahead, wiping his brow and saying ‘Oh Dear’ a lot. Once they were out in the open, some feet away from the main bulk of the Great Barrow, Lommy dropped a match on the trail and ran up the next hill.
“How long will it take?” she asked as Groin slipped down beside her,
“Oh, a good few minutes yet.” He replied, “I set a good long-”
The Great Barrow erupted in a mighty flame. Werewolves were flung miles into the air, falling all over the Downs with many a thump. The grass, stone and mud that built the Barrow scattered this way and that, dirtying Legate’s windows for one.
“A few minutes?” Lommy poked Groin in the face, “Dwarves.” She rolled her eyes and got up, dusting her robes down. Greenie trotted forward and hummed.
The Great Barrow was now a large hole, but raised above it was a large metal framework. Its long steel legs dived into the ground from a central point where it bulged out in a fat compartment. Green lights flicked on and off all along the legs and red ones blinked in the central section.
There was some groaning behind them. Turning they saw The Doctor struggling to his feet, flakes of ash all over his scarf. A few feet away, Hookbill and The Saucepan Man lay with The Phantom already sitting on a rock near by.
“Come on,” he said, throwing a rock at The Saucepan Man, “get up. If we survived that, then Mac surely did as well.”
“Look!” cried Greenie.
A short, hairy figure was clambering up the metal legs of the framework. He was grunting and sniggering loud enough for them to hear. The Doctor rushed forward and placed his hand on his forehead.
“Do you know what this is?” he exclaimed as the others caught up, they shook their heads, “It’s an earthquake machine. I’ve never seen one this big before.”
“Yes, Doctor!” shouted Mac, his beard was burning at the edges and he swayed as he stood on top of the machine, “I was going to break Middle Earth in two. I promised half of it to the Daleks, I felt a physical break would be good enough to make the distinction. But now, you’ve depleted the power! All I can do is destroy The Barrow Downs and everything in it!” he flung a large red switch and began laughing, “Goodbye Doctor! Goodbye, everything! This will give me satisfaction!”
“Only as long as those cables hold!” The Doctor dashed towards the metal frame and clambered up. The earth was beginning to shake; the machine struggled into life, firing sharp pulses into the earth.

Lalwende shook the mud out of her hair and stood up. Glancing to the right she saw the metal contraption firing beams of light into the ground. All of a sudden, a hand gripped her on the shoulder. Turning around, she almost fell backwards,
“I thought you were missing?” she said. The figure nodded and ran past.

The Doctor crawled along the scaffolding towards the large black cables fixing the power source. Mac was rushing towards him, but as he got close he tripped up. The Doctor’s scarf was tied across the gangway. Cursing, he flung the scarf back at him. He grappled the Doctor’s legs and tried to throw him off, but he fought back, knocking Mac towards the edge.
All of a sudden, he turned his attention to the control room. With a grin, Mac dashed back and vanished through a small door. A second later, the gangway was moving, tilting upwards. Mac laughed and willed The Doctor to fall.
Gripping onto the side with his bare hands, Volo began to regret the decision to clamber up so high. He swung his scarf towards the cables and pulled himself towards them. Gripping with both hands, he pulled them free. There were sparks as The Doctor swung low on the cable. Mac shouted his annoyance and began to clamber down from the structure. As he reached the bottom, a dart hit him in the neck. Turning he saw the figure of Rikae standing over him with a blow tube in her hand and two raised eyebrows.
But The Doctor’s grip was slipping. He swung towards the metal gangway, but he missed, plummeting down to the earth, flailing his arms and legs as he went. Hitting the ground he felt many things go into places they shouldn’t.

The Penguins dashed forward, followed by the others. Sliding down the crater of The Great Barrow, they made their way to where The Doctor lay. Sitting around him they called to him. For a while he didn’t move even his eyes, but at last he looked up at them and grinned.
“It’s the end,” he said, “but the moment has been prepared for.” He lifted his hand behind his head and pointed at the white figure that was walking towards him slowly. As he came in contact with the Doctor, he seemed to fade into him, as if they were fusing together.
“The watcher!” cried Greenie, “He was the Doctor all along!”
With a flash of light, The Doctor’s face changed, his hair became shorter and his eyes changed colour. Lalwende stood up and turned her back.
“No,” she said, “I’m not having this! The Scarf, the hat, even the Sonic Screwdriver I could just about take, but Regeneration? No, I’m not having it!”
“I suddenly have the urge to play cricket” said The Doctor.

Rikae carried the mumbling Macalaure away from the devastation. They passed the body of a Werewolf. The hair was disappearing, except for on top of its head. Slowly, it became a Barrow Wight again. Rune Son of Bjarne. Mac chuckled to himself and pointed at the Wight.
“He doesn’t has beard.” He managed,
“No,” replied Rikae, “Well spotted.”
“Are you going to bury me?”
“No, I’m going to help you.”
“Good! Let’s have some pizza!”

Brushing the filth off his desk, Hookbill sat on his old chair and smiled at his burning office. He placed his feet up and leaned back. The stench of mouldy bread was becoming more prominent. Opening an eye, he was presented with Workm’n hobbling at the Door with some papers.
“We have the new front page,” he said, “Just like you asked.”
Hookbill took it and frowned at the headline.
“It’s just as true as every other headline,” he mused, “print it up.”

Th’ended



The Phantom and Alien are annoyed...



The Inside Pages...

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Thanks must go to Oddwen, Formendacil, Gwathagor and The Elf-Warrior for their stories, poems and film reviews. They were all wondrous!

[THE Ka]

"It's beeftastic!"

Even though beef makes me ill, that was amazing. Rune I don't think we can be friends anymore if you're trying to manipulate my mind with beefy ads.

I loved Paper Telephone! Besides, R is there for a reason, R-idiculously Funny!

~ Ka

[Groin Redbeard]

Hookbill, I enjoyed the story right up until the ending, and the articles where hilarious! Congratulations on your 100th edition of the Downer! Everyone give Hookbill a rep. for a job well done!

[Oddwen]

Holy beef, that is an effulgence of Rune.

I see, however, that the movie "Paper Telephone" had its foodstuffs supplied by A Little Green Beef. This brings to mind a question consisting of words arranged to say "Green beef? Are seven different poisons any worse?".

This was a wonderful edition nonetheless, well worth waiting a hundred episodes for.

Thank you muchly Hooketybill, for going to such great lengths to amuse us even though your RL is awkward right now.




Happy 100th!

[Hookbill the Goomba]

I'm afraid that #100 was not the last Downer Newspaper. But I will say that, for a second, I almost concidered it. Then I thought, "What else will I do with my Sunday afternoons?"

Special thanks to Diamond for the second story (I had to trim it a little to fit on the page, I hope you don't mind). *thumbs up*



This week, The Phantom is having money problems... And Alien is... well... Being Alien.

[Bêthberry]

This is ridiculous! Those cats were framed, I say, framed! It's the very picture of a mad modernist tendency. I bet it was started by that wild feminist, Germaine Greer. She obviously cannot tell the difference between her pet peacock and the phantom. And you can quote me on this.

PS Nor can I imagine The Squatter succumbing in a mud wrestling event.

Really, where do you get these stories? With such like you are bound to come to the attention of that horrible Murdoch fellow. Careful that he doesn't decide to buy you out and relegate this Squatter fellow to the WWF.

[Diamond18]

Special thanks to Diamond for the second story (I had to trim it a little to fit on the page, I hope you don't mind). *thumbs up*

I protest! Censorship! Editorial, um, cheating! All the best parts have been left out!



Actually it's fine, and the only thing I object to is the "highest bidder" which should say "the phantom." Ha! The public voice WILL be heard!

- Beef

Why is this my favorite line?

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Originally Posted by Diamond18

Actually it's fine, and the only thing I object to is the "highest bidder" which should say "the phantom." Ha! The public voice WILL be heard!

I felt my change better reflected reality... But as to why that made it into The Downer is anyone's guess...

[Groin Redbeard]

Wonderful story, Hookbill! Phantom's story proves that cats are evil!

[Morthoron]

Letter to the Editor

Dear Sirses:

We insists you retractses your mention of us as 'Gollum' in your article 'Gollum Stands Trial' (Week #101), my precious. Nas-s-sty word, that is, and we hates it! Makes us look bad a'fore pretrial jury selection, it does *GOLLUM*. P'raps nice editor sends reporter out and chats with us a bitsy, sose we can gets our story out to the presses, eh precious? Our attorneyses at Dewey, Cheatem and Howe says we need something...what's it called? Ah yes...p-u-b-l-i-c-i-t-y. Whatever that is! *GOLLUM* They says for me to say book about Hobbitses gave poor Smeagol a 'bad rap' (and we did get hit on the head many times!), and thief Bagginses wrote slanderseses and lied about us! We hates Bagginses! Curse them!

By calling us Gollum they also says you are P-r-o-p-o-g-a-t-i-n-g A N-e-g-a-t-i-v-e S-t-e-r-e-o-t-y-p-e 'gainst our client (that's us, I think, precious) They use bigs wordsies like that cos' it confoozles us and ev'ryone else (like fat, stupid judgesy). Chestnuts and riddles! We don't go much for them anymore, do we precious? No more crunchable, scrunchable riddles. *GOLLUM*

We thanks you in advances for your cooper-a-shun, we does, precious.

Yours truly,
Smeagol the Stoor
Reformed Addict
and Model Citizen

[TheGreatElvenWarrior]

Originally Posted by Bêthberry

This is ridiculous! Those cats were framed, I say, framed! It's the very picture of a mad modernist tendency. I bet it was started by that wild feminist, Germaine Greer. She obviously cannot tell the difference between her pet peacock and the phantom. And you can quote me on this.

And I quoted you on this!
Gee, Hookbill what do you have against cats? Cats are so freaking AWESOME! But on another note... while I'm off being a teenager, you people go on posting and making good stories and the same rubbish paper that I can't seem to get enough of... and then I go back and read and then I find the Downer and it clearly said it was the last Downer... that frightened me and then I realized that in the story, Hookbill stated that the headline was the same rubbish as always... I had to laugh...

Sorry for my ramble...

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Originally Posted by TheGreatElvenWarrior

Gee, Hookbill what do you have against cats? Cats are so freaking AWESOME!

I've nothing against cats! Honestly! I used to have an ACE cat called Samwise (at least by me anyway). He died a few years ago, though because he was ill with TB.
It's the phantom that has a problem with cats! If you read some early P&As you'll see I had a thing against dogs (what with Alien killing about five in a row). I suspect Mr. phantom is retaliating against this... *shifty eyes*

P.S.

Dear Mr. Smeagol the Stoor

Your complaint has been noted, filed and burned.
Thank you for your contribution. Your opinion is important to us. Please send us your address so we can send you a forest's worth of leaflets for a local Blind Sale.

- Sir John "Sellotape" Harrison,
Head of Downer P-R

[TheGreatElvenWarrior]

Originally Posted by Hookbill the Goomba

I've nothing against cats! Honestly! I used to have an ACE cat called Samwise (at least by me anyway). He died a few years ago, though because he was ill with TB.
It's the phantom that has a problem with cats! If you read some early P&As you'll see I had a thing against dogs (what with Alien killing about five in a row). I suspect Mr. phantom is retaliating against this... *shifty eyes*

Oh, I see... I think I read those ones... Anyway, I think I should talk to Phantom about this, I'll have to push him out of the window or something...

[The Might]

Lol, wonderful stuff Hookbill and so really thanks for taking the time to do all of this!
But btw, why am I on the newspaper?

[Morai]

Anyway, I think I should talk to Phantom about this, I'll have to push him out of the window or something...

Perhaps it's not the cats that should be feared and hated, it's the cat lovers...er likers.

~Cat Lover

[Diamond18]

Originally Posted by Morai

Perhaps it's not the cats that should be feared and hated, it's the cat lovers...er likers.

~Cat Lover

Finally someone notices the real moral of that story.

[the phantom]

Here are most of my cat-related mini headlines. They should give a clear indication on my feelings regarding cats.

**********

Cat's Nine Lives no Match for Shotgun

Study: Cats unable to swim effectively in vat of glue.

Survey: 92% of Downers threw something at a cat today.

Silmarillion Movie: Gelmir to be Played by a Cat

Upswing in Nation's Happiness Linked to Spike in Cat Murders

Study: Why are cats so evil?

"Downer" Accused of Being Anti-Cat: "Ridiculous!" says Hookbill.

Cats Good for Your Health: "But you've got to eat loads of them," say experts.

King Elessar Outlaws Cats: "They shouldn't even exist!"

[Morthoron]

Letter to the Editor

Dear Tom or Queen:

It has come to our attention at the N-A-A-C-P (National Association for the Advancement of Cat Prerogatives) that The Downer has published an incendiary article regarding our feline brethren. Such blatant attacks on the Tabby community has given us paws to consider the fair-mindedness and objectivity of your paper (which when shredded, by the way, makes excellent litter).

Biased and negative reporting could prove catastrophic to the fundraising campaigns of our organization, which yearly gathers over a ton of spare yarn for economically disadvantaged felines in emerging Third World nations, as well as the eco-friendly recycling of sisal mats and rugs for scratch posts, and the tedious task of fitting little silver jingle-bells into plastic golf balls. Our catechism is simple: We are cute, we are cuddly, and you must love us, or we shall shred the arms of your sofa.

In future, we ask that you refrain from the concatenated catalogue of misconceptions and stereotypical connotations that have doggedly followed felinedom. To us, it is a matter of pride.

Sincerely,
Puss-in-Boots
Chaircat, NAACP

Morris
Chaircat Emeritus, NAACP

Felix
Secretary, NAACP

Garfield
Provisioner, NAACP

Tigger, Sylvester, Scratchy, Cat in the Hat, Hello Kitty, Hobbes, Elsa, Pink Panther
National Board of Categorical Imperatives, NAACP

[Hookbill the Goomba]

To the various representatives of the N.A.A.C.P,

We feel it necessary to inform you that the editor of the paper has little or no control over what happens in the world. As a Newspaper we feel it our duty to report on the truth, the whole truth and anything but the truth. Therefore, if cats decide to go on a rampage, we feel the public should know about it. And if we are being paid off by dog companies to stop Alien from getting anywhere near them, so much the better.

Your complaints will be filed in our Iron-filing cabinet and thrown to the lions.

- Sir Alfred "eye disease" Johnson
Head of Downer P-R

P.S. If you object so much, why not write an article about the rabid dogs that are terrorising your back garden right now? (note: please read this after our van has arrived with the dogs)

[Bêthberry]

Originally Posted by the phantom

King Elessar Outlaws Cats: "They shouldn't even exist!"

Poor Aragorn. There he was, at the juncture of the Third and Fourth Ages, and he missed the opportunity to domesticate the species. Left all the glory and fame for said work to the Egyptians at a Latter Age.

Originally Posted by Morothoron

It has come to our attention at the N-A-A-C-P (National Association for the Advancement of Cat Prerogatives) that The Downer has published an incendiary article regarding our feline brethren. Such blatant attacks on the Tabby community has given us paws to consider the fair-mindedness and objectivity of your paper (which when shredded, by the way, makes excellent litter). . . .

Sincerely,
Puss-in-Boots
Chaircat, NAACP

Morris
Chaircat Emeritus, NAACP

Felix
Secretary, NAACP

Garfield
Provisioner, NAACP

Tigger, Sylvester, Scratchy, Cat in the Hat, Hello Kitty, Hobbes, Elsa, Pink Panther
National Board of Categorical Imperatives, NAACP

Egads, Sir! You are comedically fearless. I always knew there was something essential missing from Peanuts.

[Groin Redbeard]

I'm with you Phantom! Cats are mean, selfish, and useless addition to any household!

How Dogs think
Wow, sir! You give a home, you give me a bed to sleep in, you feed me whenever I need it, and you love me. Youmust be God!

How Cats think
Wow, sir! You give a home, you give me a bed to sleep in, you feed me whenever I need it, and you love me. I must be God!

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Okay, I'm going to suggest we stop this thread from becoming a cat-dog argument.

Read the intro post to the thread.


Now, if we could start looking at some NEWS instead, then the squirrels will leave us alone.

[Diamond18]

The NAACP looked like a worthy cause at first, but then I noticed that Bucky Katt is not the president, or even a member, which severely damages its credibility in my eyes. As for me and mine, we shall follow Bucky's vision for world domination through violence and maulings.

In fact, look for more Downer articles in future chronicling our efforts.

[Morthoron]

Originally Posted by Diamond18

The NAACP looked like a worthy cause at first, but then I noticed that Bucky Katt is not the president, or even a member, which severely damages its credibility in my eyes. As for me and mine, we shall follow Bucky's vision for world domination through violence and maulings.

In fact, look for more Downer articles in future chronicling our efforts.

Bucky Katt was a member of the NAACP up until 2006, at which time he attempted a coup of the organization. Unfortunately, he was thwarted in his ambitions when he made the mistake of letting his dog companion Satchel in on the plot. Satchel, misunderstanding the word 'coup', locked Bucky in a henhouse with a bunch of chickens. He was captured by animal control authorities and sent to the local pound. Paying the penalty for his foiled revolution (as well as being out of the house without a leash or proper license), Bucky was neutered by a nearsighted veterinarian. He hasn't been the same since; in fact, he currently spends most of his time in his plush Hollywood digs eating lasagna with Garfield.

[TheGreatElvenWarrior]

Originally Posted by Morthoron

Bucky Katt was a member of the NAACP up until 2006, at which time he attempted a coup of the organization. Unfortunately, he was thwarted in his ambitions when he made the mistake of letting his dog companion Satchel in on the plot. Satchel, misunderstanding the word 'coup', locked Bucky in a henhouse with a bunch of chickens. He was captured by animal control authorities and sent to the local pound. Paying the penalty for his foiled revolution (as well as being out of the house without a leash or proper license), Bucky was neutered by a nearsighted veterinarian. He hasn't been the same since; in fact, he currently spends most of his time in his plush Hollywood digs eating lasagna with Garfield.

Poor Bucky!

But anyway, if all of the cat lovers are going to write and article for The Downer, then who's going to do it? Can I tape The Phantom to the wall and let the cats attack?

[Rune Son of Bjarne]

Why am I not mentioned this week?

I hate this newspaper!

[Morthoron]

Originally Posted by Rune Son of Bjarne

Why am I not mentioned this week?

I hate this newspaper!

Perhaps you should have mentioned you were playing the part of Rum Tum Tugger in a musical...

http://images.google.com/images?sour...num=1&ct=title

[Nerwen]

Letter to the Editor

Dear Sir/Madam,

I wish to bring to your attention the fact that your article* "Why Are Cats So Evil" falls short of The Downer's usual high standard of journalism by failing to address the wide spectrum of feline morality.

Studies have shown that malevolence is strongly linked to coat-colour. Levels are lowest among dark-coloured or tabby cats** and increase as pigmentation is reduced. Pure evil is found only amongst white cats*** such as the unpleasant specimen in the attached image, pictured while planning its latest world domination attempt.

I trust that future articles will present a more accurate picture of the extensive and completely unbiased research into this vitally important issue.

Yours Sincerely,

Nerwen,
Director,
White Cats Must Die Institute.

*Or headline, whatever.
**Like mine, by a strange coincidence.
***Like my brother's, by an even stranger coincidence.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Originally Posted by Rune Son of Bjarne

Why am I not mentioned this week?

I hate this newspaper!

Rune, you didn't get an article this week because of all the money you spent on those ridiculous adverts you insisted we put in--to the Newspaper. Honestly, they get in the way a bit.

[Rune Son of Bjarne]

Originally Posted by Hookbill the Goomba

Rune, you didn't get an article this week because of all the money you spent on those ridiculous adverts you insisted we put in-



-to the Newspaper. Honestly, they get in the way a bit.

I thought we agreed that you would not mention the financial side of our agreement?

[Oddwen]

The tear in the eye of the phantom in the last panel broke my heart...