Dear commune:

By now you realize that your highly coveted and Pulitzer Prize winning reporter, Truman Prudy, is missing. At least we’re pretty sure about the Pulitzer Prize part, someone suggested it might actually be a ribbon from the State Fair, but that someone also happens to be an asshole. Regardless, this is one valuable lump of man. Perhaps you blamed his disappearance on one of his frequent and well-publicized pornography binges, where he has been known to disappear for days on end before washing up on the shores of the Mississippi or another large body of water. We assure you that this is not the case in this instance. The uncomfortable tickle you feel crawling up the back of your throat is the slow dawning of a terrible realization. That’s right. Our organization has captured your precious Trudy using a clever false storefront and a large tuna net. Tremble, as is your right in this situation. Kidnapping is the name of this game, and the Pop-O-Matic bubble has been depressed, and then released.

Our ransom demands are simple: publish our enclosed manifestos and give us all of your money. All of it. None of this “one million dollars in unmarked bills” bullshit. We don’t know how much money you have, so it would be silly to ask for a million if you really have two million, then we’d be cheated out of half of our rightful ransom. If it turned out that you only have three-quarters of a million, then we’d be put in the awkward position of having to return to you three-quarters of Truman Prudy, and none of us are especially excited about figuring out how to go about that business. And after all, a masked robber on the street doesn’t brandish a gun and demand ten dollars of your money. They ask for it all. We’d like to think we’re at least as enterprising as your common street hoodlum.

Alas, the journalistic integrity of your organization hangs in the balance. Everything that the commune stands for teeters perilously over the breech! Waver not in your steadfast dedication to what is right and good. Pay up. A nation of Truman Prudy fans are depending on you.

The Northwestern Omaha Book Club for Guys
Omaha, NE


Dear Northwestern Omaha Book Club for Guys:

After asking around the commune offices for at least an hour, we have come to the conclusion that there is a 60% chance that Truman Prudy is a commune employee of some sort. Personally, we’ve never heard of him or his State Fair ribbon, though it does sound impressive. Upon relaying your requests to commune editor Red Bagel, we were instructed to get the commune water cannon out of deep storage. However, we’re pretty sure it’s all the way in the back behind some heavy shit that hasn’t been moved since forever, so we are eager to reach an alternative solution to this dilemma.

In accordance with your demands, we are willing to offer up two cans of creamed sprouts and these free promotional tickets to an upcoming screening of Little Goomba, which Roland McShyster has been using to wedge into the back door so that it doesn’t lock behind him when he goes out on smoke breaks. We know you asked for all our money, but trust us when we say this is by far the better deal.

the commune


Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for the Hammond Island barge fire, we just said it sounded like a good idea and provided the blueprints.

Volume 24
We have considered a commune for kids, and are working on features for the publication in our spare time at the bar. We plan to include news about school, hot teens, and all the other things that appeal to school kids and strange middle-aged men.

Volume 23
You’ll be happy to know that your letter has been blown up to poster size and is now proudly covering the spot in our break room where Ramrod Hurley punched a hole in the wall.

Volume 22
True, the commune may not have come out of the economic downturn unscathed; After all, few did. And some may argue, rightfully so, that when touring the commune offices the stench of desperation wafts up one’s nose like the smell of stale sweat on a freshly dead corpse.

Volume 21
Since then it has been illegal for guests of any hotel in any country, so decided by the International Terror Conspiracy of Hotel Owners and Operators, to cook in any form or fashion in any room.

Volume 20
We must say, however, we disagree with your statements about humiliating and belittling your customer base. We've had no problems at all with it from the shitheads who read our work.