If you are interested in editorials with happy endings, you would be better off reading The Washington Post or The Wall Street Journal. In this editorial, a word which here means “silly parody of a childrens’ book that our president will probably never read, but if it somehow finds its way to the Oval Office, will likely not start the next World War,” not only is there no happy ending, there is no end in sight whatsoever. That is because the lives described in this editorial are disgustingly lucky and this fortunate circumstance never seems to end for three children. Vitriola, Klausterfuck, and Overcast (or Casty, as she was commonly referred) are not the brightest bulbs in the tulip garden, but their happy demeanor and knack for talking their way out of any situation (or in Casty’s case, making enormous snot bubbles) is well-known throughout the region. They are also immortal.

This morning in particular, they are hanging about on Band-Aid Beach, so called for the rampant medical waste that continually washes up along the shoreline. Vitriola is throwing stones at Casty, trying to get them to skip off her infant sister's forehead and bean Klausterfuck in the back of his enormous head. Meanwhile, Klausterfuck has his nose buried in a pamphlet on writing effective pamphlets, and Casty is making some of the most amazing snot bubbles.

Suddenly, they all turn to see a large cloud of mist form mysteriously down the beach. As the mist begins to dissipate, a figure emerges and approaches the children.

“Sorry, children. I really need to stop eating at Taco Bell,” he explains. “It’s just these damned Burrito Supremes. They're irresistible.”

“Who are you?” asks Vitriola. “We’ve met all of our parents’ friends, but we’ve never met you.”

“My name is Bob. I’m from the government. Donald Trump wants you to become the basis for the next Super Soldier.”

“Like Captain America?” asks Klausterfuck.

“Word is that you kids are indestructible. We want to clone you and make an unstoppable army.”

“Donald Trump,” says Vitriola. “He's the president, right? The one they say is batshit crazy?”

“Well, that’s just the claim of the biased liberal fake media...”

“I heard the Russians have a sex tape of him being urinated on by Ukrainian prostitutes,” says Klausterfuck.

“Children! These are all unsubstantiated rumors! And where did you children learn to talk like that?”

“We’ve read a great deal of Lemony Snicket. He frequently explains what words mean. For instance, ‘prostitute,’ in this context, means ‘a woman who is paid by a world leader to pee on him.’”

“Bob! Didn’t I tell you to stay away from my children?” Coming up behind the government agent, Kellyanne speaks rapidly. “I told Donald they were off-limits. Leave now, or the deal’s off.”

“You know if I don’t come back with at least one of them, Donald will have me executed.”

“Fine, take the little one.”

Music has always come hand-in-hand with putting together each issue of the National Pasquinade, inspiring its content and creation. Hell, "muse" is even part of the word! Therefore, it's only fitting that it should have its own section. What follows here is the music that has inspired the creation of this issue. A Spotify playlist is available for your listening pleasure (Note that some songs included in the playlist are not kid- or work-friendly).

- “With a Little Luck” (Paul McCartney and Wings)

- “(Believed You Were) Lucky” (‘Til Tuesday)

- “I Bet My Life” (Imagine Dragons)

- “You Got Lucky” (Tom Petty)

- “Happy Go Lucky Me” (Paul Evans)

- “Some Guys Have All The Luck” (Rod Stewart)

- “Casino Queen” (Wilco)

- “Lucky Star” (Madonna)

- “Knock On Wood” (Amii Stewart)

- “Tumbling Dice” (The Rolling Stones)

- “The Lottery Song” (Nilsson)

- “The Turn of a Friendly Card” (The Alan Parsons Project)

- “Lucky Man” (Emerson, Lake & Palmer)

- “The Joker” (The Steve Miller Band)

- “Queen of Hearts” (Juice Newton)

- “Lucky One” (Michael Penn)

- “Casino Royale” (Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass)

- “I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor” (Arctic Monkeys)

- “Junior’s Farm” (Paul McCartney and Wings)

- “Viva Las Vegas” (Elvis Presley)

- “Lucky Strike” (Maroon 5)

- “Money For Nothing” (Dire Straits)

- “Lucky Devil” (Carl Dobkins, Jr.)

- “Atlantic City” (Bruce Springsteen)

- “Beatin’ The Odds” (Molly Hatchet)

- “The Gambler” (Kenny Rogers)

- “Chances Are” (Johnny Mathis)

- “The Luckiest” (Ben Folds)

- “Show Biz Kids” (Steely Dan)

- “Born Under A Bad Sign” (Albert King)

- “Take a Chance On Me” (Abba)

- “Fortune Cookie” (Los Straitjackets)

- “The Lucky One” (Mary Lou Lord)

- “Guaranteed” (John Hoskinson)

- “You Better You Bet” (The Who)

- “Gambling Man (My Odds Are Stacked)” (The Worst Cover Band Of The World)

Do you consider yourself a pro at making mixtapes? Compile a Muselist for a future theme to inspire us! Or make up your own themed Muselist! Maybe you can inspire a future issue with your list! Send your themed Muselists to submissions@nationalpasquinade.com.

The National Pasquinade is the result of much good fortune. Its Editor-In-Chief and Head Ladybug Farmer, Ed Lynn, won its Perpetual Mascot and Fuzzy Dice Barber, Lyndon B. Oswalt, via a very strange slot machine. Also contributing are The Midnight Tree Bandit, who has a wounded leprechaun chained to the floor of his basement. Inspiration for this magazine continues to be Berke Breathed and all of the contributors from the past seventy-six issues of the National Pasquinade.

Also contributing to this issue in many complicated ways are the awesome members of The Occoquan Pasquinade, a Facebook group that gathers artists, writers, and other ne'er-do-wells together to build a funny magazine and support each other through constructive criticism and positive reinforcement. If you are a writer or artist of funny things and are interested in being a regular contributor, you'll want to be a part of this group. Details are at http://www.nationalpasquinade.com.

The Occoquan Pasquinade, at press time, includes: Holly Adams, Bryan Cox, Liana Miller Gott, Lara Hayes, and Kim Woo.

National Pasquinade [ISSN 1097-3834] is more-or-less produced more-or-less quarterly by The Occoquan Pasquinade, locally grown in Occoquan, VA. Entire contents of Volume 2, Number 3, licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 during the Spring of 2017, except where noted. Tweet to us @pasquinade. Like us on Facebook. Visit us at http://www.nationalpasquinade.com where you can read the blog, see the upcoming themes and, well, whatever else you do while viewing the website is your own business. Seriously, man, a little dignity! Electronic submissions can be sent to submissions@nationalpasquinade.com. Please do not smoke this ebook.

Sirs:

Comrades! Abort! The press corps noticed the upside-down flag pin! Repeat, abort the mission!

Sean Spicer

White House Press Room

Sirs:

Since being fired, I’ve decided to move my career in a new direction. I’m opening up a chain of fast-food vegan restaurants. I’m calling it Grab-a-Bush. Maybe you’ll give it a plug in your magazine?

Billy Bush

Los Angeles, CA

Sirs:

Uncle! UNCLE! Un!!! Cle!!!!

The Fact Checkers at FactCheck.org

Philadelphia, PA

Sirs:

Turning water into wine is no big deal. At least it isn’t until your friends show up for an intervention.

Jesus Christ

Location Withheld By Witness Protection Program

Sirs:

Remember me? I was the smart president. The one you elected twice to lead your country. Sure, I made a few mistakes along the way, but you’ve all been pretty forgiving in retrospect. Perspective is everything, eh?

George W. Bush

Ottawa, Canada

Sirs:

With the impending closure of Ringling Bros. circus, we’ll need to find employment wherever we can. Some of us were thinking… with a Republican president now in office, maybe you’d want us for photo shoots? If so, we’re in the book.

Please. We have families.

Circus Elephants

Begging for peanuts outside the zoo

Sirs:

I know I must have sounded ridiculous when I defended the use of guns in public schools with my grizzlies argument. I just think about grizzlies. Frequently. It’s a very real fear!

When I’m taking my Range Rover through the carwash, I fear that a grizzly is going to jump out from behind one of those spinning brushes and maim me into a bloody corpse. When I’m shopping for groceries, I just know in my heart that a grizzly is waiting for me in aisle 12. And I can’t attend funerals anymore for fear that the coffin will open up and a grizzly will chase me through the graveyard.

I just wanted your readers to understand my very real phobia.

Betsy DeVos

In the Grizzly-Witness Protection Program

Sirs:

I don’t know why you liberals are so angry about our country’s prison system. We’re a fun bunch of guys! Just last week I won another game of Prison Bingo when I was the first to get a full card of potheads before the other wardens. We may have to fit ‘em ten to a cell, but they’re off the streets and I can afford a Hummer and the gas it takes to drive twenty feet.

John C. Law

Everytown, U.S.A.

Sirs:

Operators are no longer standing by. Operators have gone home to get a good night’s sleep. You are officially on your own.

Operators

In the arms of Morpheus

Sirs:

My publicist told me I need to get out in front of this, so I figured I’d give you the scoop. I figure that, even if you do print it in your letters column, none of the five readers you currently have will believe it’s really from me.

I have been, and am still, paying Disney an enormous amount of money to keep producing animated movies that feature a princess.

Could be a white princess. Could be an Indian princess. Could even be an animal princess of some sort (I’d love to see a meerkat princess).

It’s the only way I can get hard these days.

Phil Collins

Miami, FL

Sirs:

When do we wake up and find out it was nothing compared to the nightmare we are really living under Hillary?

Nonnab Evets

Notgnihsaw, CD

Sirs:

I was walking to school one day and a car swerved in front of me, then winked out of existence. Do you think the driver is okay?

S. Dinger

St. Louis, MO

Sirs:

Know that we are your friends and we care for you very, very much. We've all gathered here, Zzggartha, because we're concerned about your alien anal fetish. Seriously, your probing devices haven’t been plugged into anything for twelve solar cycles!

Zyzzx Grazzyppa

Low Earth Orbit

Sirs:

I am outraged! Your letters column is grossly misogynistic. Each issue, you print far more letters from men than you do from women. Take a cue from Iceland! Their Icelandic Pasquinade is careful to print an equal number of letters from each sex. And one person that claims to be neither sex. And a moose.

Annette Elk

Reykjavik, Iceland

by Lyndon B. Oswalt

After the accident, the attending physician had insisted on an MRI which revealed little more than a mild concussion. The prescription: twenty-four hours of bedrest. Did he have someone to drive him home? Yes, he knew how to summon an Uber.

It was now the morning after the accident and the sun poked a hole through the partly cloudy skies, pierced the dirty windows and paper thin curtains of Gordie Powell’s tiny apartment, landing like a friggin’ razor on his closed eyelids with such force that Gordie grunted, turned, and managed to remain in this position just long enough for his bladder to inform him that the odds he would make it to the bathroom were rapidly dwindling. Maybe tonight he’d wear adult diapers to bed so he could get an extra hour of sleep in the morning.

He opened his eyes and immediately noticed numbers floating, ever so faintly, just to the lower right of his field of vision.

45.2 to 1

Well, that’s new. It looks like Vegas odds.

He got up, stretched and yawned, and headed toward the bathroom. As he did, he saw the numbers change. As he started his morning release, the numbers bottomed out and disappeared.

Huh!

As he pulled out onto the interstate, he could see a traffic jam in the distance. Probably one of those idiots on a crotch rocket crashed after recklessly weaving between cars at 100 mph.

257.78 to 1

The numbers suddenly appeared again. They weren’t changing as rapidly and they appeared to be going up and down randomly at first. As he neared the source of the backup, a three-car fender bender, they started increasing rapidly, finally settling on the symbol for infinity.

∞

Then, as before, the symbol disappeared. He wondered if this would happen again and the numbers quickly indicated they would by flashing even odds.

1 to 1

Gordie Powell’s life was becoming increasingly interesting.

Once he arrived at the office, he noticed his boss standing at his desk with a disapproving look on his face as he glanced at his watch in the very obvious way he glanced when Gordie was late to work. “Will you be attending this morning’s staff meeting?”

“There is a very good likelihood that, yes, I will be attending this morning’s staff meeting.”

1 to 1

“Don’t forget you’re presenting the findings on the Turner Project. I sure hope you’re ready. The CEO will be attending this meeting and I understand he’s eager to hear what you have to say.”

Shit! He thought he had another week before his presentation. “I thought the presentation was next week.”

“Oh, did you not see the email that they moved it up to be included in the staff meeting? The top guys are anxious to get the gears in motion.”

He opened his email program and quickly scanned the headers for any mention of the presentation’s relocation. “I don’t see any email.”

His boss walked over and quickly scanned the headers. He pointed at one that read “FYI Staff Mtg” and said “That’s the one.”

Gordie opened the email and scanned the contents. “Are you sure? I still don’t see…” Then he saw it. The second-to-last line. Yellow text. In a smaller font. He looked at his boss with a “Really?!” face.

“I was trying make it stand out from the rest of the email.” Prick. “Staff meeting in thirty,” he said as he turned and headed back to his corner office.

Gordie immediately began bringing up folders and opening files on his PC in an effort to pull something together from the accumulated data. This doesn’t look promising, he thought.

And, as he did, the probability suddenly appeared in his field of vision.

27,294 to 1

Shit! I can’t let this distract me from what needs to be done!

29,876 to 1

Shit! He tried to focus on the task at hand, furiously typing, dragging and dropping, adding images of kittens and puppies among the pie charts and bar graphs. It was working.

2,209 to 1

Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead and upper lip, but everything he wanted to include had been compiled into a tidy PowerPoint presentation.

196 to 1

What? What else was there? What was he missing? He looked up at the clock. It was five minutes before the hour. He still had to get to the meeting! He snatched up the flash drive containing his presentation and ran in the direction of the conference room.

105 to 1

As he passed by the break room, he noticed fresh donuts on the table.

529 to 1

No. He must resist. He continued on.

25 to 1

As he entered the room, everyone’s head turned in his direction. It was at that moment that he realized that he didn’t recognize any of these people. This was the conference room, right? “I’m looking for the staff meeting…?” he stated/asked hesitantly.

“Room 25,” said the attractive brunette at the front of the room.

“Thanks.”

∞

Shit! He walked back to the break room.

He drove to the park, sat on a bench, and considered his next move. He pulled a chocolate donut with sprinkles from the box he had taken from the break room. He was surprised the box was still full. Probably intended for his department after the staff meeting was over. He took a bite of the still-warm pastry.

Coming down the path was an attractive woman in her early twenties being aggressively pulled along by five dogs of various sizes. As she approached the bench from his right, she gradually began to get them under control.

“Hello,” he said. “Looks like you’ve got a handful there.”

She brushed aside some stray hair that had fallen in her face and sighed, looking at him like he was the village idiot.

He picked up the box. “Donut?”

9,999,999,999 to 1

So, he thought. There’s a chance.

Sunday: Bring your entire family to the last day of the Lake Waldo Community Carnival from 9am to 10pm at the Lake Waldo Fairgrounds. There will be rides, a petting zoo for the kids, and everything will be fried for your consumption (including the animals that get the least attention from the kids; nothing is wasted).

Monday: The Hallelujah Larry Baptist Church on 451 West McFarland is hosting the first in a series of Bingo Nights this Monday at 6pm sharp. Bring a friend and get a free card. Bring an enemy and we’ll introduce them to Larry. Hallelujah!

Tuesday: The Lucky Seventh Day Adventist Church on 407 East December Avenue is hosting a Gamblers’ Anonymous meeting every Tuesday night at 7:30pm. There will be a door prize and one lucky winner will receive a new iPad.

Wednesday: With Easter just around the corner, the Lake Waldo Salvation Army is encouraging residents to donate their old clothing, working appliances, and old Night Ranger CDs this month. They will be hosting a drive on Wednesday at their location near the McDonald’s at Main and Founders from 7am to 7pm.

Thursday: Lake Waldo High School’s Drama Club will be performing a play based very loosely on the classic 1975 softcore film Emmanuelle, The Joys of a Woman at 6:30pm in the high school’s auditorium. Admission is free of charge, but is first come. Please bring your own tissues.

Friday-Sunday: The Friends of Bradbury Library are having their annual book fair at the Fifth Street Branch of the Bradbury Library on Friday and Saturday from 9-6 and on Sunday from 12-5. Bargains galore! There may even be some crusty old Playboy magazines for sale, Bobby. We won’t tell your mom.

A Small Story Told Largely By Douglas Carroll

“Three Yum and Yuck Clucks, primordial noodles, and a dozen Easter Specials,” the waiter called back. It was an atypical Saturday night dinner crowd at the Fortune Diner, an ingenious melding of eastern cuisine and western diner culture. Herbie Wong had come up with most of the lingo they used one weekend in a whirlwind resulting from a continuous stream of coffee and Twinkies. Herbie was quite proud of his accomplishment and extremely happy with the resulting success of the diner.

The crowd tonight was unusually large, even for a Saturday night. There had been a very nice review in the Johnsonville Times-Sentinel. Residents nicknamed the newspaper the Johnsonville Time-Suck, but it had a decent circulation and not everyone trusted the internet, television, and radio news much these days. Maybe the paper had more readers than he thought.

“Another Humpty Dumpty Juice for table twelve,” a waiter shouted back to the kitchen staff.

The layout of the restaurant resembled a typical fifties-style diner. Booths lined the outer walls of the restaurant; there were a few tables—including a couple of the large and round ones to seat larger parties—and a fabulous and well-maintained counter, behind which was an open portal through which orders were shouted and beautiful presentations of complete meals were provided for customers to hungrily consume.

“Sneaky Quackers and Easter Specials for three,” Herbie loved the quizzical look on customer’s faces as they tried to decipher the unique diner lingo he’d created for the staff. He knew this was one of the great appeals of eating at his restaurant. It didn’t hurt that the cook he’d hired right out of culinary school was amazing. Chef Bonzai was a real character with his neon pink and blue mohawk, Fu Manchu beard, and t-shirts with a different amusing phrase every day. Herbie believed that he had to be writing the slogans himself. And, unless Chef Bonzai had a second job, he had to be blowing 40% of his salary on those t-shirts.

Today’s t-shirt read, “Your dinner hangs in our window… order before it finds a means of escape!” It was refreshing to have a character like Bonzai that didn’t take himself too seriously. It encouraged everyone on staff to keep things lighthearted. This made the Fortune Diner a great destination for family and friendly gatherings.

But Herbie couldn’t explain tonight’s crowd away with an office party or a treat for the team that won their little league championship. Every party in attendance was of a reasonable size, ordering dinner as if it were any other evening. Only the restaurant was packed.

The exhaustion had started to show on the wait staff within the last thirty minutes. Just small things like forgetting to lay down extra napkins, but Herbie noticed. He’d been in their position before owning his own restaurant, so he understood. But there wasn’t much turnover at the Fortune Diner. His staff loved working for Herbie and Herbie trusted his staff.

“Two Cow Scrams, no sleepies,” one of the waiters called back. They didn’t use MSG at the Fortune Diner, but he had lingo for it when a diner made it part of their request.

Through the front window, a limousine pulled up to the door. What fresh hell is this, thought Herbie. We’re already swamped. He might have to turn these people away and a limousine usually meant big meals and bigger tips.

The chauffeur exited the limo and walked around to the rear passenger door. Out stepped film and television star Violet Wang. Of course this would happen on a night when the Fortune Diner is at capacity! Herbie was a huge fan of Ms. Wang’s work. He had a search set up on his TiVo to record anything featuring Violet Wang. He never missed an episode of Of Mice and Women, the long running drama that ran on a cable channel Herbie had to pay extra for; a drama that made her a household name.

She was followed by her date for the evening, a twenty-something male model with a muscular frame and the slightest wisp of facial hair. He was the human equivalent of bottled water. A pretty boy. He didn’t deserve to be seen on the arm of a woman as beautiful and talented as Ms. Wang!

He greeted them as they entered the restaurant. “Welcome to the Fortune Diner. We are a bit crowded tonight.”

“Table for two,” Ms. Wang stated, as if Herbie’s words had no meaning to her.

“I don’t currently have any tables available. And there’s a wait of approximately thirty minutes.” He tried to point out the small gathering of people waiting for tables to be available. The people she had walked past as if they were part of the decor.

She didn’t turn and instead said “We’ll take whatever you have.”

“I have one seat at the counter.”

She turned to her date. “Trevor. Can you stand next to the counter with me?” Trevor nodded. “We’ll take the counter seat.”

The available counter seat was on the end of the row, five feet away from the door to the restrooms. At the moment, there was a line of women waiting for an available stall in the ladies’ restroom. As Violet Wang sat down, five women in the line started to whisper among themselves. Ms. Wang had learned early in her career how to ignore those who would gossip about her while in her presence. She was above them all. And she had a hunky guy on her arm tonight.

A menu was provided, at which she briefly glanced. “Beaks and Trees,” she shouted at the kitchen. “And some Long Horse Hair for my friend!”

Herbie suddenly realized that tonight’s crowd was the beginning of something amazing.

Assistance with some amazing Chinese Diner Lingo suggestions was provided by @jfredrick99, @MTreeBandit, @saxchik, and @swauve_ricardo. Awesome job. Thanks to everyone.

Lists are a part of all of our lives. We might as well have a bit of fun with them, eh? Occasionally, we'll even post a new Listeria topic on Twitter so that you can play along. Here are some of the best from the last few months.

New Lucky Charms

- Size 12 Women's Shoe

- Muppet’s Foot

- Four-Leaf Cannabis

- Wishing Bucket

TrumpCare Side Effects

- TrumpCare may not protect everyone. In fact, it may not protect anyone who makes less than $650,000 a year.

- TrumpCare should not be used if you have an allergic reaction to facts. Anyone else can believe what they read about TrumpCare on the internet.

- If you experience swelling, diarrhea, explosive vomiting, or sudden, unexplained pregnancy by an immortal, omniscient being, TrumpCare is not for you.

D.I.Y. Dad Novels

- Moby Deck

- The Scarlet Ladder

- The Hammer Games (and its sequels, Chasing File & Mockingjoint)

- Gulliver’s Trowels

- Catch 22x4

- The Grapes of Lathe

- A Treehouse Grows In Brooklyn

- The Catcher in the Drywall

- Dr. Black & Mr. Decker

- The Caulk of the Wild

Recurring Nightmares

- I wake up in class to find it’s final exam, I’m in my underwear, and my PE coach has his finger in my ass and is licking his lips seductively.

- That nightmare where we elected Donald Trump.

- I wake to find I have super powers. And I'm the only being left alive in the universe.

- That nightmare where Steve Bannon eats the president and claims he’s the president now. Because he ate the president.

Other Septuagenarian Assholes (Besides Donald Trump)

- Wilbur Ross

- Jefferson Sessions

- Harrison Ford

- Roger Ailes

- Dick Cheney

- Bob. In Accounting.

- Daisy, a Wal-Mart greeter that spits on you whenever her manager is on break. It’s not a race thing, she’s just an asshole.

- Bill O'Reilly (He's only in his late sixties, but we're including him anyway.)

- Donald Trump (included for emphasis)

Got an idea for a list to be featured in a future installment of Listeria? Email us at submissions@nationalpasquinade.com with at least three bullet points for each list suggestion.

Contributors to Listeria include: The Occoquan Pasquinade.

Table of Contents

Editorial-In-Chief

Muselist

Marforio

Overwhelming Odds

Community Corner

Little Table in Big China

Listeria