MISSING! The heist of the century!

We was robbed...

In a shocking turn of events the staff of PressureLife, Cleveland’s premier arts and entertainment and articles about Bigfoot and beers magazine, have learned that the entirety of our newsstands have been absconded with throughout the greater Cleveland area.

Some of you may remember when a certain competing pulp proactively made light of our situation by mocking the event before it happened several months earlier.

(bell rings) “Shame…” (bell rings) “Shame…”

Yes, from Euclid Avenue to Kenilworth, down Detroit and squaring up at University Circle, we’ve got  bupkis. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Browns. Every last damn wire rack, plastic bin, old bucket, and 1920’s newsboys with a satchel has been swept up overnight.

While some believe this to be the first salvo in the drastic cutting the National Endowment of the Arts the nation has just suffered. That theory was eliminated after we remembered that our budget derives primarily from leftover beer money, that 10% tax CoinStar charges for your loose change, and shiny buttons, so many shiny buttons.

Some of the more radical fringe within the PL staff are currently laboring over a corkboard of black and white surveillance photos of the staff of Scene and connecting them with labyrinthine network of red crazy person strings and pushpins in attempt to back track their steps, or to uncover who the Cigarette Smoking Man in X-Files really was.

We’re a start-up, we’ll take either as a win.

The leading theory, outside of a Machiavellian Henry Senyak revenge on the level of German opera, is that the sinister staff at Scene traveled back in time thanks to an Einstein-Rosenberg bridge that opened up over the Flats last week. There, they installed PressureLife newsstands, proceeded to paint them in the colors and titles befitting the House of Scene before stealing them away on their own. And to think, they blamed the poor, hard-working Cleveland sanitation crews…

(bell rings) “Shame…” (bell rings) “Shame…”

After stealing their own newsstands, which were actually ours just painted to look like they were Scene’s, they then jumped back to the present, knocked on our beach house’s front door, asked Renaldo the pool boy to fetch Ms. Gloria Vanderschnitzleburg IV, PressureLife’s spiritual leader, for a parlay. There they laid out the terms of our surrender, the only chance for us to see our beloved newsstands again. We let them keep the 1920’s newsboy. We think mange is contagious.

But we will not go quietly into the night, or to backpages filled with hooke— er, escorts… yeah, escorts… Nay, despite their demands of more ads and less content, of less homespun snark and more snooty hipster enclave butt licking- we said “Good day, Sir!” and allowed for Renaldo to show our haughty guests to the private pontoon boat they flew in on while we sipped Singapore Slings in hollowed out coconuts with crazy straws while floating on pool noodles.

Instead, PressureLife will keep on keeping on and fighting the good fight. Our next issue drops April 7th and we’re proud to announce it will be delivered personally from location to location via armored truck with complimentary escort from Green Arrow, J. R. Smith, Maury Povich, and Jimmy DiMora as an attempt to Suicide Squad his sentence.

 

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  • Adam Dodd

    Content Strategist, novelist and prolific roustabout who drinks entirely too much coffee. You can find him on Twitter @therealadamdodd

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