Everything would be okay if maybe someone would make mention of all these 9-11 conspiracy theories. The French are big on the idea that America is responsible for the World Trade Center and Pentagon attacks to stimulate the U.S. military budget, and I hear that and get pretty upset—Mr. Bagel, creating whacked-out stories like that is your job. Maybe I should read the French commune, hmm? They’re obviously not afraid to come up with conspiracy theories. If they had a French commune, maybe called le commúne or something, I would read it. But right now it’s just an empty threat.
You’re lucky I enjoy reading Clarise Sickhead’s Bedtime Stories to kids I don’t like, otherwise I might stop reading the commune altogether. Come on, you’re letting your audience down.
Emil Zender
D’Artagnan, Washington
The truth is very few of us have seen Red Bagel in person in at least two weeks. He frequently slips his columns under the door to us in the newsroom and refuses to open the door unless we use the secret knock, which he has never shared with us. It is all proof, as far as we can guess, that Mr. Bagel is knee-deep in the darkest conspiracy yet and is simply biding his time, waiting for proof or a lack of other column material to reveal it. Dark men with large mustaches show up at odd hours and drop off brown paper bags full of documents for him, which we slide one by one under the door. The phone rings day and night and someone asks for Red Bagel, who the hell are we, and take a message, then refuses to tell us the message. It’s pretty frustrating, but we respect that Mr. Bagel has never shied away from a conspiracy. More than likely whatever he is researching involves the 9-11 attacks, as well as every other major news event in the past 20 years—except for the Baby-Jessica-down-the-well thing, Mr. Bagel assures us that involved mole people and not the government.
As for the French—c’mon, Emil, they’re French. If you’re going to listen to the French, how are we supposed to communicate seriously with you? Maybe you should look yourself in the mirror and ask if you’re not the one with the problem. Listening to the French. Pfffth. Let’s not have another letter like this, Emil. We have the power to cut you off from the commune, you know—no more commune for Emil. Get your shit together, please.
Dear Emil:
Thanks for your literate spanking; Lil Duncan in particular enjoyed it. We have been dropping the ball here at the commune, and we’d rather be famous for our top-of-the-heap conspiracy unraveling than our dropped balls.
the commune
Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for Red Bagel. Why should we take the blame when his parents aren't going to? He has an agenda that is holy and beyond our understanding. We sure hope that's the case anyway.
Volume 25
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.
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.