Courtesy of The Hog Liver Hollow Constitution
Wednesday, August 08
Body Drops From Sky

The body of a man believed to be from a flying saucer plummeted from the sky last night and landed in a Hickston parking lot, Sheriff Hobbes said.Bubba called 911 about 6:30 p.m. after he heard a thud and saw the dead man lying in Stanky's parking lot. Hobbes said the man probably had been rejected by aliens and tossed while approaching Hickston Airport. Hobbes was trying to determine which saucer the man fell from. Hobbes said the man could have fallen from one of five saucers that landed at the airport at about the time the body was spotted.

Genital-biting fish terrorise village : July 6

TWO Hickston fishermen have bled to death after piranha-like river fish bit off their penises.The fish, which zero in on piss,have struck terror among townsfolk.Authorities believe the killer fish is an introduced member of the South American pacu family and relative of the piranha.

In both of last month's fatalities, the fish demonstrated a trait of the piranha by following a trail of pee in the water, swimming to its source and then biting it off with razor-sharp teeth.

"The killer fish have the most human-like teeth on the bottom jaw I have ever seen and quite possibly feed on insects,"Sheriff Hobbes said he believed the killer fish had started biting humans because of a lack of naturally occurring food."The reason for biting people on their genitals I believe is a result of the fish detecting a chemical change," he said.Hobbes said this was well documented in the Amazon, where piranhas attack in response to urine or blood.

Courtesy of The Hog Liver Hollow Constitution: June 27

Leonard, a redneck in Hickston, Arkansas, can’t afford to build and launch test rockets. The first one he builds is the one he’ll fly in. He will be his own monkey — just as he will be his own mission control, copilot, draftsman, flight engineer, pressurized-fuel-tank maker and sectional-fin engineer and builder, not to mention publicist. Leonard likes to do things his way.
For the past hour and a half, Leonard has been sitting in a vinyl chair in his living room, drinking moonshine and talking about his plans. He is 44, with greasy brown curls, muddy blue eyes and a high pitched squeaky voice of a man who spends a lot of time talking over loud machinery. (In addition to building rocket parts , Leonard once built an entire two-man recreational submarine.)
Though possessed of a certain amount of huff and bluster, Leonard is fairly humble when it comes to his present undertaking. He insists that what he is planning to do is not particularly difficult — is not, in fact, “rocket science.”
“What is a rocket?” he says. “A rocket is a device with more thrust than weight.” We do the math: Leonard and his rocket and fuel will weigh 10,000 pounds ; the rocket will produce 12,000 pounds of thrust.
“If I have 2,000 pounds of thrust,” he says, one forearm blasting off from the arm of his chair, “I’m gonna go up. Since I’m losing 90 pounds of fuel a second, I’m going to just accelerate the whole time.”
Assuming he’s done his calculations correctly, he’ll run out of fuel and coast to a stop at the edge of Earth’s atmosphere, just beyond the perpetual gloaming that precedes the cold black vacuum of space. At this point, he’ll activate a small thruster in the nose of his capsule (the empty fuel tank having dropped off) to turn himself head down and into position for the unfolding of a giant airbag. This will act as an airbrake to slow his fall, thereby reducing friction and surface heating of the capsule during re-entry.Once back in Earth’s atmosphere, a jumbo custom-made parasail will unfurl and Leonard will drift softly back to Earth, somewhere in the middle of an extinct lake bed in southeastern Arkansas.


Much like Alan Shepard’s first suborbital flight, Leonard’s trip will last about 15 minutes. Here the similarity ends. Shepard splashed down into the Atlantic Ocean and was greeted by a couple of Marine helicopter pilots who hoisted him up and over to probing doctors and a phone call from President John Kennedy on the waiting aircraft carrier Lake Champlain. When Leonard approaches touchdown, a flatbed truck will have driven up underneath him to shuttle him over to a ring of bleachers, where he’ll step out of the capsule and wave to the cheering crowd while “12 Hooters girls run up and pour champagne” all over him.
The reverie is interrupted by a cuckoo clock on the wall behind us. It occurs to me that sometime during every media interview ever held in this room, the clock has interrupted Leonard, saying, “Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo!”
“Leonard?”
“Yuh?”
“You should really turn that off when the press is here.”

A TOUR OF THE FACILITIES
Leonard suggests a tour of his workshop and his backyard, a.k.a. the Rocket Garden, where a full-scale mock-up of the rocket stands. Here is where you begin to wonder just how simple or successful Leonard’s flight will actually be. The easy part of building a rocket is building the rocket. Somewhat trickier is building the machinery required to build the rocket. Leonard shows me a site on the grounds where he plans to build a distillery to purify the hydrogen peroxide that will fuel his flight.
“You know,” I offer. “You can buy that stuff at the drugstore pretty cheap.” Leonard carefully explains that the drugstore variety is about 3 percent hydrogen peroxide. He needs 90 percent purity.
Oh.

Leonard opted for a monopropellant — rather than a mixture of, say, liquid oxygen and kerosene — because he feels it’s safer and simpler to deal with. Here’s how it’ll work: Upon blastoff, the hydrogen peroxide will be forced from a pressurized fuel tank into a catalyst chamber containing a stack of silver screens; the contact with the silver will create a chemical reaction that will cause the hydrogen peroxide to suddenly expand by 600 percent, creating a burst of steam that provides the needed thrust. Since there’ll be no flames shooting out from the rocket, Leonard feels there’s less chance of explosion. “The worst that could go wrong is that I’ll come back a blonde.”
Leonard shows me the fuel tank that will eventually be pressurized with nitrogen gas to force the hydrogen peroxide into the catalyst chamber. The tank-pressurizing people wanted $50,000 per tank. Leonard rolls his eyes. “Military contractors. So I’m going to do my own tanks.”
This will entail building — from parts — a machine to wind Kevlar or carbon fiber around the lightweight tanks to allow them to withstand the pressure exerted by the nitrogen propellant. Leonard has no working background in this sort of thing. He dropped out of engineering school after a couple semesters. He seems to be running on the instincts of a born tinkerer.

This earlier part of Leonard’s day was spent at his desk in the office attached to his workshop. He’s making a compilation of his television appearances — 14 to date, including one with Bryant Gumbel and a half-hour segment on Fox — to send to Hasbro, with whom he hopes to work on a line of Rocket Guy action figures.

June 1,

An inventor from Arkansas has created the world's first fart-proof underwear. Buck Weiner says his airtight knickers have a replaceable charcoal filter to remove bad gas before it escapes. The undies, called Under-Ease, are on sale over the internet.

Buck, from Hickston, said he thought up his invention after his wife 'let go a bomb' in bed one night.

In both men and women's styles, the underwear, made from a soft, airtight, nylon-type fabric, is designed for people who like to fart. Elastic is sewn around the waist and both legs.

Buck says the charcoal filter isn't too bulky but could capture the bad-smelling gas and allow the non-smelling gas - hydrogen and oxygen - to pass through.

It was developed from gas masks worn by coal miners, reports the Hickston Hawg. They come as boxer shorts for men and panties for women and sell for a buck one-eighty. Replacement filters are available. They are sold with the motto: "Wear them for the ones you love."