Category: Planetary Status Reports

I am declaring a TANGO-LEVEL threat …

A threat to your pocketbook and your dog and your home. On loan from the STUDD’S SOAP COMPANY, TORG-RAIDERS are arming up on the edge of town. They can’t afford food or clean water, their bodies are home to many kinds of parasites.

JIZZ CARTENSON is crawling up your poop-pipes, talking about “cigarette cures” and weird diseases from PANDA EXPRESS. He makes the rounds, prepping the fear engine, getting folks ready for the BIRD-FLU SURPRISE, and darkening skies of poisonous gas. The last STORM RUNNER is lost in the woods and NELLY PARSONS can’t find her underwear steamer.

PAPA BLUMP is rolling up LITTLE MEXICO in TACOMA, ignoring NEW CHINA in Seattle. The busket-beavers crawl off the container ships on Harbor Island, and the GOLDMAN-SACKS GUYS do their TIDE WORK to bargain for ANCHOR BABY TYPES from BEIJING. Sometimes the containers are sealed too well and all that arrives is meat loaf, so they sell that excess to TACO BELL or DENNY’S.

Wedding bells RING LOUD as the PROUD BOYS erect their GYPSUM MONUMENT for JD TRANCE. WALNUT FORCES under the command of SHERGHEIMER are breaking out of CROWN HEIGHTS and BRIGHTON BEACH, the Black Sea pirates do their boogie for RFK JR and the bear carcasses get tossed in the park.

CLOUD GUARDIANS are filling the space with grease-paint-poison. Micro-plastics collect in your liver, as the SKY HAWK SHAMAN stays the course and dumps his LOAD, so your insides can explode. POISON FOG is spreading, and many a FRENCHIE is getting lost out there; their bodies torn apart by squirrels.

TITLE-9 will be replaced with CIDER HOUSE RULES, as the gruel matrons pour out spilt salt-wax and gravy wine. Long before the time of the torn-doves, our LOVE CALDRON overflowed with that crimson glow; junket masters settled cases and wasted themselves in the bars of Saipan and Houston.

AT THIS THREAT LEVEL? – we won’t stop till we reach Moscow … Moscow Idaho.

Far in the hills of CASTLE ZONE 5, we’ll be having outdoor bonfire parties and eating hardy on lay aside cable snake and charred ELK. Delving into the FEAR, we see earnest cowboys rustling up burger-set breakfast matches at the YONG-SAN ELECTRO-MART.

But it’s THREAT LEVEL TANGO, and no one is gonna stop us.