The Marlo Tribune, Volume Five

Seemingly Sentient Inanimate Objects Surprise and Frighten Residents

When an assortment of apparently sentient examples of normally inanimate ojects first appeared in the island a few months ago, they were largely greeted with unquestioning acceptance and enthusuasm from local residents, who were quickly won over by the objects' utility as transportation. Those who reacted less-enthusiastically, such as the dreaded demoness Iblis, who prophecied at the time that mortals would rue the day they'd grown dependent upon things beyond their comprehension, may have perhaps been vindicated in their hitherto seemingly killjoy cynicism last week as the objects' behavior has begun to raise questions nobody seems willing or able to answer.

One need only venture just outside of Marlo to see the problem writ large. The fruiting peninsula, normally a tranquil, tropical paradise, now resembles a very strange sort of war zone or perhaps construction site. In thousands of places the lush green grass has been torn up by floating chairs, cookies, and broomsticks. Almost as weird as the thousands of muddy holes are the fact that many of these holes, we are told, were found to contain various buried objects, whose placement experts are at a loss to explain.

"A lot of money has been found," said a local treasure hunter who asked not to be identified, "and a fair number of casino tokens. I guess it's plausible that people from the nearby casino are burying their winnings here for safekeeping; it's not like we have banks, after all. But why clothing? And how can mounts find these buried caches? I can understand how mamono might be able to smell them, but giant floating cookies? It's difficult to understand."

Even more difficult to understand, at least to this reporter, is why people seem to be paying astronomical sums of money for used clothing freshly dug out of muddy ground. Further investigation may be required.

Loli Vaccination Campaign Ends Plague, Traumatizes Everyone Afraid of Needles

The sneeze-inducing, nakedness-causing plague that has, um, plagued the Duchy in recent weeks is said to be almost exterminated now, thanks to a public health campaign launched by local officials. Wielding extremely large syringes and gleefully sadistic expressions, they ran around injecting lolis - and anyone who was even just a bit on the short side - with an unspecified, proprietary, serum.

The serum is said to be perfectly harmless in almost every way. Asked about the people shuffling around the Duchy and other parts of the island with a mix of blank stares and mildly traumatized expressions, officials conceded that some people may have phobias about needles, but that in matters of public health, the welfare of the many outweighs the concerns of the few. "Besides," said one of the officials, a bit pragmatically and a bit confusingly, "you can't make an omelette without breaking a few ribs."

Recent Flooding Highlights Duchy's Aging Infrastructure

It began with a thin layer of mud on the cobblestones, and ended with the town flooded with waist-deep water, leaving residents and visitors alarmed, disgusted, and wet. The unprecedented flooding of the Duchy was, officials tell the Tribune, caused by a clogged drain. While officials insist on-the-record that this was a fluke accident, growing public questions about the state of the island's critical infrastructure have largely gone unanswered, leaving some residents and visitors concerned.

"Most people don't think about plumbing much," said a local priest named Sledge, "but civil engineering is fun—and important. Failing drainage belies a lack of investment in infrastructure, and while it could be a short-lived problem, it could just as easily be a harbinger of impending societal collapse." She warns people not to worry, however, adding that there's not much the average citizen can do about a hypothetical impending end of the world as we know it.

Fox Invasion Ends, New Invasion Begins, Puzzling Botanists

The invasion of foxes which explorers refused to eliminate has miraculously ended as abruptly as it began, to the relief of most of the island's residents. Just as it ended, by a strange and inexplicable coincidence, a new invasion of mamonos began, once again puzzling botany experts. As happened last year, apparently possessed mamonos have emerged to terrorize innocent citizens. And just as last year, some of the mamonos are wearing pumpkins.

"It raises some interesting questions that few people want to talk about, rather disappointingly," said Serenity, a local mage who moonlights as a botanist. "Why pumpkins? And, for that matter, whither pumpkins? Nobody cultivates them domestically, because they don't seem to serve any economic purpose, and I've yet to see evidence that they grow in the wild, here." They're native to her homeland, she says, but don't seem to be native to our island, which raises questions about how and where mamono acquire them, and why they use them for adornment. Asked where, exactly, her homeland is, she just gestured vaguely in the direction the sun rises from in the morning, and hurriedly walked away.

Illness, Technical Problems Postpone Newspaper

Attentive readers will both note that this issue of the Marlo Tribune is a week late. The staff would like to apologize for the delays, caused by an unfortunate combination of technical malfunctions with the printing press and an unpleasant bout of influenza, and to confirm their committment to producing an issue every Saturday, more or less, time permitting, when possible.

Check out the previous issue or go back to the main page, maybe?