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Now displaying: May, 2016
May 24, 2016


Ronnie and Donnie Turtle were the Romulus and Remus of Turtle County, brothers who bought all the county’s water, killing anyone who could not afford it. When it turned out no one could afford it, they found themselves in the awkward position of having killed their profits and neighbors simultaneously.


Regardless, they had accrued an impressive amount of wealth in the process and felt they deserved to build a monument to their success - one  that they could live in - and so they began to build their mansion on 1818 Turtle Street. The Turtle Brothers were too proud to travel across county lines to hire people who might make snide remarks about all the dead bodies liquefying in the sun and so they began to clear the land alone.


Every tree worth its lumber was chopped to the ground, every stone worth its hardiness was quarried from the earth, every shock of tallgrass was sliced clean from the turf, and soon all of the land around 1818 Turtle Street was reduced to a barren and threadbare state. By duties end Ronnie and Donnie sat down on a pair of tree stumps to admire what they had accomplished. The view inspired pride and thirst. As if on cue, a woman appeared from the southeast clutching a large jar of pink liquid.


The Turtle brothers clapped their hands as she headed their direction.


“Man, that sure as heck looks like lemonade,” Donnie said.


“That’s what I was thinking,” Ronnie said.


“I’m getting thirstier and thirstier just thinking about it,” Donnie said.


They quickly agreed that they would pay any cost to drink her lemonade. When the unknown woman arrived they were quick to make a deal.


“How much you selling it for?” Donnie asked.


“Yeah, how much you want?” Ronnie asked.


The woman gave no answer but she had fire in her eyes and wind in hair.


Ronnie said, “Well shoot! You are a tough negotiator but it’s a deal.”


And Ronnie pulled out a stack of fifty gold bills and she handed over the glass jar. The woman turned to leave and the brothers were alone. Before Donnie could’ve asked to have maybe half of the jar of lemonade or even a sip-Ronnie guzzled the only shebang in one big gulp.


Donnie said, “Ronnie you old spider dick- I was going to want to have me some too!”


Ronnie said, “Sorry brother, but trust me on it - that the lemonade was disgusting but it sure was sweet.”


Donnie said, “You really know how to toast a dog turd.”


Ronnie coughed and said, “You would’ve done the same thing you jackwad-but probably ten times fas-.”


But before Ronnie could finish his line, his eyes began to swell up and bulge out of his eye sockets, and the straining blood vessels all over his head turned his whole face purple.”


Donnie began to scream, “What do you want me to do? Tell me what to do!”


Ronnie said nothing but his hands began to grip around his throat.


Donnie said, “Oh okay, I think I get it! You are choking so you need me to do a tracheotomy.Now hold still - if you squirm it’s only going to make it worse!”


Donnie pulled out a long knife and stabbed at Ronnie’s throat, Ronnie tried to dive away but just far enough to get stabbed in the wrong part of the neck.


Donnie said, “Am I going to have to tie you down? What’s the dealio here? Do you want help or not?”


And so Donnie got out an ax and gave Ronnie a couple of chops on the legs so he wouldn’t squirm so much.


Donnie said, “Finally you are holding still for three seconds. Sheesh!”


And Donnie perfectly threaded the knife into the windpipe and air finally escaped out of his windpipe. Ronnie’s eyes receded back into their sockets and the blood vessels were no longer bulging in his face but as Ronnie regained movement in his hands he was quick to point to his legs. Ronnie’s legs-severed just above the knee were pouring a massive amount of blood onto the grass.


“Doggone it and rat dabbit, if it’s not one thing it’s another!” Donnie said. “You are bleeding all over the place! Sheesh, what are we going to do with you?”


Ronnie motioned towards Donnie’s belt suggesting a homemade tourniquet.


Donnie said, “You are friggin loco Ronnie, this leather is legit Italian. How’s about this instead?”


And Donnie began to press several paper napkins against Ronnie’s massive leg wound. Within seconds Ronnie bled through the napkins.


“Well shucks,” Donnie said, “Ronnie would you quit burning my bongos and stop bleeding for once?”


Ronnie’s hands went lax against his body and his eyes rolled up to the clouds. Donnie continued to press the napkins against his brother’s wounds for several minutes, at times pounding against his chest in a repeated fashion, but it was too late, the green grass had turned red and one of the kings of Turtle County was friggin dead.


Producer/Engineer: Bill Pollock

Editor: Sarah Rendo

Cover: Rob Mitchell


May 17, 2016


Donnie and Ronnie Turtle were the first to sell gunk and they got rich doing it. After they got rich selling gunk, they started selling kid’s sunglasses (because no one was doing it) and they got even richer. After selling gunk and kid’s sunglasses they were richer than they ever imagined - Donnie and Ronnie then bought all the water in the county. The water was dirty so the Turtle brothers told the county they were going to clean it up and then sell it back to them. So the county sold them the water and the Turtle brothers processed it and started selling it back to the people of the county. It made the Turtles even richer but when they realized that no one else was selling water, they started selling cups of water for nine dollars and 20 gallons of shower water for ninety dollars.


Some people could afford to take a shower and drink a cup of water once a week. Other people could not and the Turtles became furious that those people were not buying. They were so irate they hired a hired man to investigate. The hired man discovered that the poor people were getting their water at a particular stream at a particular time.


When the hired man shared the news of what was happening the Turtle brothers were very upset.


Donnie Turtle said to Ronnie Turtle, “what should we do?”


And Ronnie said, “I don’t know. I don’t know.”


Then Ronnie asked Donnie Turtle, “Well, what should we do?”


And Donnie said, “I don’t know. I don’t know.”


Then the hired man said, “You know, I know another guy.  He’s good at kicking people into the river and sometimes hitting them with hammers. If you hired the other man the only people left in the county would be good, honest water buying people.”


The Turtle brothers said, “I like that - do that. Let’s celebrate with pound cake.”


After they ate a delicious pound cake the hired man contacted the other man and together they kicked all the poor people into the river. By morning there were no more poor people left in the county, so the Turtle brothers raised the price of water from eight dollars a cup to twelve dollars and the price of a shower from ninety dollars to one hundred and twenty dollars. Some people could afford to pay. Most people could not. Those that couldn’t were forced to walk around with their mouths open in hopes that a rain drop or two might fall in and quench their thirst. They called themselves the thirst quenchers.


When the Turtle brothers learned about the thirst quenchers who could not pay for water they sent the hired man and the other man to kill everyone who was walking underneath the clouds. In their minds, the rain in the clouds was the property of the Turtle brothers and the thirst quenchers were common thieves.


And so the hired man and the other man gathered their hammers and whacked everyone walking underneath the clouds. Sometimes they found people walking around on clear days and they thought about not killing them but then they realized that that’s exactly how a thirst quencher would hide-walking around in plain sight on a clear day without their mouth wide open. It was too obvious to ignore so the hired man and the other man whacked them too. By the time they were done they had eliminated all of their doubt and fear-no one was left to walk around with either their mouth open or closed.


Unfortunately when they were done the the Turtle brothers were the only ones left in the county. The Turtle brothers had no one left to buy their water and it made them very sad. The hired man and the other man reminded them that still had plenty of money and plenty of water to survive. This cheered up the Turtle brothers just a little and they asked the hired man and the other man to build a statue of them and then they changed the name of the county to Turtle County. After the hired man and the other man built the statue and held the ribbon for the ribbon cutting ceremony the Turtle brothers kicked them out too because they could not afford the new water prices.


Producer/Engineer: Bill Pollock

Editor: Sarah Rendo

Cover: Rob Mitchell


May 10, 2016

Producer/Engineer: Bill Pollock

Editor: Sarah Rendo

Cover: Rob Mitchell


In the 19th century, the Osage people lost millions and millions of acres of land across three treaties: the Treaty of 1808, the Treaty of 1818 and the Treaty of 1825. In these treaties, the bulk of the Osage Empire was sold to the U.S. government for less than six cents an acre. The Treaties of 1808, 1818 and 1825 still haunt the former Osage lands of Missouri, Kansas and Arkansas. Some spinetingler theorists argue that all the houses in former Osage lands are haunted because they were built on stolen land but nearly all spinetingler scholars agree that all the houses in former Osage Lands with street numbers that match the years of the treaties have a much greater chance of hauntings.


The Spinetingler Scholars Alliance has found overwhelming proof that numerical correlations can lead to general feelings of uneasiness or sensations around the face, liver and spine. In more extreme instances, they can lead to a full blown spectral outburst, when a human witnesses a short but demonstrable glimpse into a ghost’s eternal protest at shirking the mortal coil. Extensive studies have been made of spectral outbursts by spinetinglers scholars. It is such a common focus of spinetingler research that finding funding is becoming highly politicized and even taboo in some circles.


Nonetheless, one of the most famous spectral outbursts involved a house on 1808 Turtle Street. On today’s date just a few short decades ago, a woman named Dolorous Jones who lived at 1808 Turtle experienced something that could scarcely be believed without the eyewitness testimony of her own person and the thorough documentation by the Spinetingler Scholars Alliance.


In the middle of the night Jones awoke to the sound of a squirrel gnawing on her bathroom door. She rarely saw or heard squirrels in her bathroom, but she clearly heard the distinct sound of tiny rodent teeth scratching on a door. But when she got up to check the toilet closet, she found no squirrel. She shut the door to the poop pantry and went back to sleep. She slept for three hours and seventeen minutes before she heard the distinct sound of the tinkling keys of a piano.


The only problem was that she had no piano. Not even a small keyboard. Not one to miss a midnight piano party, she went downstairs to where the piano tinkles seemed to originate, but she found no piano. Too disturbed to sleep, Jones got up and made a gallon of oatmeal smush. It was Jones’s box turtle Donnie’s favorite meal and she sprinkled raisins and sugar delicately and was just about to raise the spoon to Donnie’s turtle face when a voice spoke to her from across the kitchen table.


The voice surrounded her with a great forest of noise.


The voice said, “Hush, hush, hush, hush. I will make you blush if you make that Donnie turtle eat that smush.”


The voice got louder, “Inferior oatmeal! Inferior oats!”


The table began to rattle like so many wooden chains and the room swirled like a cauldron sloshing with the broth of spirit, as if a giant sinkhole was preparing to swallow her house whole. Jones rushed out the front door without her hat or shoes and ran down the street to Mother Jones’s house. Terror pounding in her heart she told Mother Jones about the tiny ghost squirrel, the invisible piano and the oatmeal poltergeist.


Mother Jones pulled out a giant candle from the back pocket of her candle vest and said, “Child, you must follow me.”


They walked very slowly towards the daughter’s house. Dawn had not yet broke its orange yolk on the earth, and a thin layer of fog enveloped the house. At the top of the staircase hovered a towering figure silently billowing. It had one eye and teeth more numerous than any toothbrush could handle.


Mother Jones set the candle on the ground and locked her fingers with her daughter's fingers. Kneeling to the ground she spoke:


“We made a mistake

We made a big mistake

but please let us live in peace

and eat oatmeal.”


The hallowed form let out a deep exhale and slowly gathered its fog. Like a low hanging cloud it drifted down the street to 1818 Turtle Street. Mother Jones collected her candle and went home.