Mayor Resigns !!

Jan Chaddwick, the first elected President of the Village of Broken Springs with a vagina, has turned in her resignation (but not her vagina) to the Council, effective April 1st, no foolin’.


President Pro Tem Bob Pezdispenser, who currently lacks a vagina, will take over the role of President until the Council can appoint a new Vagina in Chief to serve until the September election.

Asked whether he’ll be able to run the Village despite the fact that he’s not a woman, he responded, “Well, I won’t pursue a lawsuit every 28 days and I’ll probably be tearing out the pink carpet in the Village Hall. But other than that, things will stay pretty much the same.”

Ms. Chaddwick has been on the Village Council for eight long years. She seceded Mayorship from the Village’s first non-elected female Mayor, Marian Kiljoy. At the time of Kiljoy’s climb to power, many underestimated the power a mere woman could have in a town that had been run by men for over a century. But Kiljoy set the foundation for a strong Mayorship, which Chaddwick expanded more than many thought was humanly possible. In retrospect, Kiljoy wasn’t half the despot Chaddwick grew to be.

Not that she wasn’t fully grown when she took office…

Among her many achievements, Ms. Chaddwick will forever be known for:

• Suing the Township for half a million dollars because they had the gall to bend to the will of their constituents during the Sewer Project Scandal. Proving once again that crap flows downhill, the Township got it in the end. Township taxpayers were flushed out of hundreds of thousands of dollars all in the name of Operation Tidy Bowl, the Chaddwickian pursuit of universal toilets, no matter what the cost or who leaves the lid up.

• With the help of the aforementioned lawsuit settlement, Chaddwick helped balance the budget for the Village for the first time since Broken Springs was the county seat. In fact, with a half a mill in the bank, the Village’s budget will be balanced for the next 26 years, respectfully.

• Installing two vending machines in the Village Hall lobby, and furthermore, insisting that they always have a full supply of Hostess cupcakes, Twinkees, and Krispy Kremes.

• The about-to-be-commenced Street Scrape Project, which will tear up our roads in the pursuit of beautification of our fair city. Long term goals of the project include remodeling Broken Springs to look like a Norman Rockwell painting so that people will no longer throw their gum in the streets or shoot at local businesses with paintball guns.

• And last but certainly not least, Chaddwick lent her name to the infamous Cease and Desist letter News from Broken Springs received last year, attempting to censor a legitimate new source such as ourselves. Voltaire’s quote comes to mind: It is the characteristic of the most stringent censorships, that they give credibility to the opinions they attack.
  

When asked if she would miss governing the Village, Ms. Chaddwick said she'd miss the power but not the criticism. "The people of Broken Springs won't have Jan Chaddwick to kick around anymore," she said.

But that's an exaggeration. It's more like her larger than life frame's been slightly budged around by foot.

Ms. Chaddwick ended her interview with NFBS with the following reflection from St. Peter:

“It is God's will that by doing good, you might cure the ignorance of the fools who think you're a danger to society. Exercise your freedom by serving God, not by breaking the rules. Treat everyone you meet with dignity. Love your spiritual family. Revere God. Respect the government.”

“Especially that last part,” she said, to which we here at NFBS responded with an Albert Camus quote of our own:

"Nothing is more despicable than respect based on fear."

Kingston supporters: Hally Ho

Dear Editor,

It appears as if those doggone Kingston Kritics are at it again. The very few of them (and I do mean very few as the current count stands at -4) are attacking the best police chief ever both behind and in front of his overworked back

No one’s perfect but Jim Kingston comes dangerously close. He’s a fine man whose job description doesn’t include half of the many things he does for the community. Has no one realized that if he didn’t shovel sidewalks in the winter, we’d all be suffocated in snow? If he didn’t mow overgrown grass, we’d all have hay fever and wouldn’t be able to drive to work? And if he didn’t buy all those scratch off tickets at Weedway, our local economy wouldn’t be booming like it is. I certainly don’t see his Kritics ever doing any of these selfless deeds. The only thing they shovel is more garbage to the press about Jim. Jim has done so much for our community, despite being torn a new one by a few meanies. (Very few… since the beginning of this letter the number has dropped to -6.) Jim is always getting knocked down but he gets up again. You’re never gonna keep him down.

Wake up, silent supporters of Kingston, and let your voice be heard. For every one of his Kritics, Jim has three supporters whose families he’s saved or whose relatives he’s kept out of jail. Everyone should remember the acronym WWJD - what would Jim do? I believe he would fight back (if he wasn’t too sick to show up for work) Let’s all get mad and replace the negativity with obedience to what used to be a peaceful Broken Springs community or even fewer people will want to live here than already do now.

Lucianne Grieves

Bartenders and Cops Don't Mix

Officer Shame, We'll Miss You

Broken Springs’s favorite Man in Blue has decided to take another job in a neighboring town, leaving our poor town with big elevator shoes to fill.

Officer Daniel Shame, infamous for the size of his bow and arrow, gave his resignation as a Broken Springs Police Officer earlier this week in order to pursue his dream job - modeling Calvin Klein underwear. Unfortunately underwear modeling pays by the inch, and the former officer Shame is only endowed with centimeters, not inches worth of raw talent. As a result, he will be forced to moonlight as a police officer for Niles Township in order to pay his bills.

Now would be a good time to give a big KUDOS to Officer Shame for all of inspiration he’s given the staff of News from Broken Springs. Nobody else might, but we will sorely miss him.

Thank you for all of the wonderful memories, including:

Nearly arresting Cecil Mortin for stealing a Slater’s Supermarket grocery cart. You hauled that cart up in your K9-mobile, only to have it fall out as you pulled out onto Old 31. As you later learned, just as Cecil told you, Slaters allowed him to use the cart to push his groceries home because he doesn‘t have a drivers license. But you were proactive in protecting the safety of that grocery cart. Thanks to you, grocery carts everywhere can breathe a sigh of relief. Well, at least until it crashed to the ground.

I can’t tell you how many young girls’ lives you’ve changed by letting them touch your badge as you kept an eye on the taverns in town. Those girls, guaranteed, will never forget you. No matter how much therapy they get.

Remember Durango, that loveable mutt who couldn’t smell marijuana if you’d pulled over Cheech and Chong? You trained him with your own two feet. When he went to the kennel in the sky, it was clear that Broken Springs PD lost one of its finest members. God bless his furry soul.

Your target practice caught you up in all sorts of trouble but here at NFBS, we understand that all work and no play make Danny a dull boy. Anyway, it could’ve been worse. You could’ve been gambling at the boat or taking a four hour lunch at Subweigh. You could’ve been hunting behind Pri-Mart and accidentally shooting someone in the leg as they pumped their gas.

That reminds me of that time you were hunting behind Pri-Mart and you accidentally shot someone in the leg as they pumped their gas. Boy was that a hoot. But thank you for doing it on your own time and not company time.

And last but certainly not least, thank you for signing your name to that God awful Cease and Desist letter that we received a year ago. You remember that letter, don’t you? It had a lot of big words in it and was filled with legal threats. I know you didn’t really mean it for us since we always write about you in the most positive light possible. You really meant it for your nemesis, Bonii Didjaseedat. But it was awfully nice of you to include little ole News from Broken Springs in all the fun and games.

Daniel Shame, always remember: We’ll miss you more than Britney misses booze. If you’re ever in town, don’t forget to visit. You can even sleep over if you tip a few too many. We have a couch for guests on the front lawn… at least until that worthless Debris Code Officer tells us to get rid of it.

Township Sets Trap for Kingston

Township Officials Boggled by Chief’s Disappearance

Police Chief Harry Houdini?

The police in the small town of Broken Springs, Michigan, as in other small towns, often search for missing persons. But it isn’t everyday they search for one of their own, let alone their own boss. However, ever since Police Chief Jim Kingston was named in three complaints filed by Broken Springs residents, he’s been harder to find than the criminals he once helped to catch.

Township authorities, anxious to resolve the complaints as quickly as possible, reported earlier this week that Kingston has missed work most of last week and failed to show for the monthly police committee meeting, where the aforementioned complaints were to be discussed. Officially, he’s ill, according to those close to him. His wife even presented the Township Board with a handwritten note from home.




But calls to his home are left unanswered. His mail (most notably his Lottery Digest and Hustler magazines) have yet to be picked up from his PO Box.* And the most haunting clue to his disappearance is the overgrown grass in his front yard.

“Nope, ain’t seen ‘im,” says neighbor Wilbur Reed. “He ain’t even took out his trash.”

Has the 30 year police veteran skipped town? Is he lying low until things quiet down? Or has he simply vanished into thin air? Local police are none the wiser than everyone else. They said it was days before they noticed the Chief was even gone. And since then, they insist that if he doesn’t have a warrant out for his arrest, they’re not all that interested in finding him.

“A man’s got a right to some private time,” says Officer Daniel Shame. “I usually spend mine on the commode just before breakfast. But if Jim wants to take his all at once, that’s his prerogative.”

There are those in town, however, that claim to have spotted Kingston in broad daylight. Some witnesses insist they’ve seen him buying Super Cash scratch offs at Weedway gas station. Others claim to have watched him work a Sudoko while waiting for his Jiffy Lube oil change.

One wild eyed resident even says she saw him sharing a Corona and singing karaoke with Elvis Presley at Coyote’s Bar and Grille. “He better not quit his day job,” she added.

Whenever the elusive Kingston decides to come out of hiding, one thing is for certain. If he sees his shadow, we’ll have six more weeks of winter.

* As of this printing, someone has picked up the Hustler magazines.

From Jimmy

Dear Broken Springs citizens (and rabble rousers),

It is with a heavy heart that I write this letter from my hammock in the northern part of Florida, sipping a Corona and smoking a big fat Cuban cigar which I’m sure isn’t doing my bad heart any favors. My attorney has just phoned me to advise me that during my temporary hiatus, Lt. Roy Smegley will take over my duties as Police Chief. I have the utmost faith in him to handle all the responsibilities left up to the head position, from mowing out of control grass on the riverbank, to chasing twelve year olds off the streets after curfew. There is no one better capable for this job, other than me. But I unfortunately have a very contagious condition that disables me from performing my duties as the best Police Chief ever.

Fret not, my small town friends (and enemies). My condition is not life threatening, only job threatening. My many doctors have assured me that I am the only one susceptible to this rare disease, which they’ve named “Bonii and Brucitus” after those who’ve given me the serious affliction. Once I recover, if I do recover fully, I’ll still retain the present day 60% of my brain capacities and 32% of my motor functions.

I don’t intend to blame my absence from duty completely on my condition, but I’d be lying if I told you that I didn’t notice the first symptoms near the time those three complaints were filed at the Township Hall. Still, I performed my duties to the best of my ability until another - much more common - affliction caused me to accidentally miss Monday night’s Police Committee Meeting, for which I was crucified by local blogs and “newspapers.”

As an aging man in my (ahem) middle forties, I sometimes suffer from CRS. If you need it spelled out, you’ve never had it. Truth be told, and I’m rather ashamed to admit this, I forgot to remind my wife to set the clocks up an hour for Daylights Savings Time the previous Saturday night. I have several witnesses who saw me strolling into church an hour late Sunday morning, right around the end of the Preacher’s sermon. I knew it was nearly over because I could hear Gladys Spitzer snoring in the corner. My wife, bless her platinum blond soul, took the blame for my oversight. And because she’s always right, I didn’t disagree. I just let her redeem herself by setting the clocks ahead after we got home from church. But the silly woman forgot again and come Monday morning I was wondering why the seven o’clock news came on at six.

I wandered in early to the seven o’clock police committee meeting at a quarter to eight, but Katie told me they’d already adjourned and that Ernie was hotter than a premenstrual hornet because I was not there. When I called him later, I figured it was in my best interest to be at least two states away, so I headed to Florida. I had my lawyer call in sick for me at work and that’s where we presently stand.

I expect a full recovery and when I’m reinstated with a proper and much deserved pay increase, I’ll be happy to clear up all those questions concerning Police Manuals and redacted phone logs. Those complications can also be explained away as simply as my temporary leave of absence. In the meantime, Broken Springs, I hope you miss me ten times as much as I miss you. How could you not? In a few more days I bet even my critics will be begging for my return. And being the good hearted soul I am, I’ll never turn my back on our fair town.

God Bless,
James E. Kingston

Police Committee Meeting

Where’s Jimmy?

On this 12th day of March in the 2007th year, we gather to have a police committee meeting in the small township of Onoyoko, in the medium sized state of Michigan. But what if you threw a meeting and no one showed up?

Well, lots of people showed up for this meeting, minus the one person upon whose very existence was necessary to hold the meeting. But he wasn’t there. I can’t complain much, really. I missed the last meeting because of a date I had with several dead Popes, not to mention the time I spent with the deceased poets Keats and Shelly.



But then again, the Committee isn’t relying on me to give a report each month about how our officers are “busier than usual.”

Before the meeting started, and before I realized that you know who wasn’t there, I felt the presence of two cops behind me. I mean, directly behind me. Probably sticking kick me signs on my back. Officer Allgay, recognizable by his cue ball head (that’s not a dig… I love cue balls) was heard taking a call from the Sheriff, whom he told he’d call back later. But the real question is what will he call him? Sir? Your Highness? Sugarbuns?

Just a guess but I think he’d like that last one.

Just then Officer Allgay pokes me in the back with his pen (at least I hope it was his pen) to make sure I made proper notes of his attire for the meeting. Apparently he mistook the Township Hall for the Kodak Theatre, the cheap white tile for the Red Carpet, and me for Joan Rivers. And I’m just crazy enough to indulge him.

Mr. Allgay, I’m begrudged to admit, was dressed to the nines, but only because he isn’t tall enough to reach the tens. His stylish dark colored khakis contrasted the bright glow of his head in such a way that one couldn’t help but to look at him. All in good fun, Mort. Or should I say… Chief Mort?

Threatening to interrupt my note taking fun, Chairperson Hildecrust calls the meeting to order, but not until after he expresses how the absence of you know who boggles his mind, seeing as how all the important things are happening.

I sympathize with poor Ernie. Having a police committee meeting without a police chief is like putting on shoes without shoelaces. Unless you have Velcro shoes, which we don’t. Or sandels, which are practical in the spring and summer assuming you’ve remembered to clip your toenails and shaved the long black hair off your big toe.

As the minutes pass, and the Chief’s Report isn’t read because there isn’t a Chief there to report it, another cop walks in and sits down behind me, making me feel a bit like a whore in church.

The committee begins talking about buying another car, this one for a grand cheaper, from somewhere else.

Then there is some talk about the union contract negotiations and Ernie gets roped into representing the committee.

Sue Frettin brings up a way to possibly resolve one of three complaints recently filed by citizens against the Township concerning the Chief’s behavior. Resident Bonii Didjaseedat requested the phone logs from Chief Kingston on a day when she suspected he was in contact with a certain someone he shouldn’t have been in contact with. But when she received her FOIA requested log, the entire document was blacker than Benton Harlem at midnight during a power outage. A copy of this log was passed back and forth to committee members and it rather resembled a Rorschach inkblot test. Looks like a guilty conscience to me. The attorney (who looks to have lost some weight) says that Jimmy told him he’d blacked out the numbers from personal calls in the log. Sue Frettin, hoping to resolve this conflict, offers to be the middle woman and look for whatever number Bonii suspects may be on the list. Bonii agrees and hopefully Sue will be able to pry the original, unredacted copy from the grips of Kingston in the future. In the meantime, Bonii asks to see the receipts where Kingston is reimbursing the Township for the personal calls made on his work cell phone. Sue doubts the existence of such receipts and Committee member Bob Frugal quips that there is probably no extra charge depending on what kind of cell phone plan he has.

Ex Commissioner and now ordinary citizen Curly Headed Sandy comments that for a Police Chief who’s on duty 24/7, there are bound to be some personal calls made on his work phone and she doesn’t mind.

No one thought of ringing him up right then to ask why he wasn’t at this all important meeting.

Concerning the other complaints, not much could be said about the incomplete (at best) policy and procedure manual turned over to the Clerk’s office in response to another FOIA request. The Committee had many questions for the Chief, none of which could be answered so long as his seat remained vacant.

Then the bombshell is dropped. Ernie Hildecrust says Jimmy missed most of last week from work and asks everyone’s opinion on whether it’d be prudent to name a substitute Chief. It suddenly dawns on me why the three cops are at this meeting after all. They’re like vultures, about to swoop in on Kingston’s decomposing carcass.

Mort, have I mentioned how handsome you looked tonight?

The attorney advises the committee that it’s not the time to replace Kingston, even if only temporarily. He will make some calls to come to the bottom of things, he says.

As an endnote to the meeting, Bonii asks a question on behalf of Troublemaker Boob about whether or not permission was granted to Officer Keith Mauve February 16th to take his car home to Stevensville overnight. She asks if Hildecrust requested car video footage, as resident Boob asked him to do. Ernie said he had not done so. Sue mentions that the officer may have been needed in court early the next morning, but seeing as how the next morning was a Saturday, well, it was worth a try, Sue. Curly Headed Sandy scoffs at the idea that Bonii is now following Officer Mauve, not to mention Daniel Shame, and Chief Kingston himself. That Bonii sure is a sly one, ain’t she? I wish I could be in three places at one time.

Meeting adjourned at 7:26. Everyone got to bed at a decent hour, thanks to Jim Kingston playing hooky.

Kritics Wrong Again

Dear Editor,
The Kingston Kritics are at it again, this time raising a stink over a so called phony police policy manual that our hard working and dedicated police chief turned over in response to an intrusive and unnecessary FOIA request. Will these people never shut up? I bet they’d even complain if Chief Kingston washed their cars and vacuumed their floormats. And they need it, trust me. I’ve seen their floormats.

Turning over the policy manual like he did is just another illustration of how dedicated and hard working Chief Kingston is to Broken Springs. Rather than admit there is no Township approved policy in existence, he took the matter into his own hands like a leader would. Committed to abiding by the public’s every whim, including those people who constantly criticize and ridicule him, he gave one of his “bosses” what was requested within an adequate amount of time. Does a pupil get in trouble for handing in their homework on time? No. Nor should he.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re saying to yourself that a pupil should get in trouble for handing in someone else’s homework, or homework they copied from someone else, at the very least. But let me remind you again how difficult it is to put together a police manual. Doing all the work himself would’ve taken him off of Broken Springs very dangerous streets. Thank God Chief Kingston has the good sense to keep his priorities straight.

Sincerely,
Buzz Alcrutch