By Storm Song
Ready to leave the bleak darkness, the black abyss, the abandonment and disuse that is your hotel room? Welcome to the Free State of Van Zandt, the pride of the unincorporated periphery! Nestled in the heart of the sun-scorched badlands, our quaint desert oasis boasts a unique charm forged by a steadfast spirit of independence and just a touch of creative chaos.
Once a humble crossroads for mech pilots, discarded clowns, and ill-fated prospectors, Van Zandt has blossomed into a destination for the adventurous traveler seeking a truly unforgettable experience—whether you’re drawn by our rich history, breathtaking landscapes, or the fascinating local anomalies that’ll make you say, “Wow, I haven’t been to confession for a while… or ever.” You should probably fix that.
This tasteful local flare has been shaped by the dedicated efforts of our citizen-militia powered, tax-light, low calorie provisional-government. Rest assured, your visit here promises sights, sounds, and situations you won’t find anywhere else without a considerable dose of the local cactus juice.
Squic’s Tour Guide Service
Of course, there’s no better place to start than at Squic’s Tour Guide Service. We ask kindly that you do not punch the birds, they are endangered. At Squic’s Tour Guide Service, you will find the most robust system for delivering you to the sightliest locations that your eye-meat desire (his words, not mine). The tours only cost 29.99 in standard C-Bills or equivalent currency; he will also take the bones of a ram so long as its death was natural. That will remove the trebuchet from the equation.
Worried about bandits or desert reavers? Not to worry! Halzikar will protect you. He’s our premier luchador and the head of our burgeoning wrestling league. You’ll find nobody better to keep you safe on this side of the sparkling river (it’s our property, not theirs)! Enjoy your tour of scenic Van Zandt with nothing to fear but the angles.
Bubba J’s Mecho-Plex
First we come to Bubba J’s Mecho-Plex; now you may ask yourself why we allow a duck to run the Mecho-Plex rather than gently battering him in tempura and frying him to a golden crisp? For starters, as we said, the birds are endangered and it would be immoral. Also, he’s been hard to catch.
That said, Mad Ducks runs a reliable service, providing us with mech parts and steamy delicious gumbo. Here, you can see the gumbo vats and the completely ethical treatment of the animals who have willingly accepted their roles as the flesh donors. You can see where we use the most advanced building techniques, duck tape, and TLC to keep our mechs combat ready. And at the end of all that, you can hear the Van Zandt Children’s Kazoo Choir! Breakfast and a show isn’t a bad way to start off the tour, right?
AndyVan’s Scream Therapy™
And with that, we’re off to AndyVan’s Scream Therapy™! Stressed from work? Still fighting with your car (who swears it’s not cheating on you)? Still trying to process Mad Ducks’ completely ethical treatment of non-avian animals? Shout™ it out with our Screaming™ expert, AndyVan in a safe, comfortable clinic. Need a better Scream™? Join him in the salt flats where he may Cry™ out in anguish against the forgotten cactus gods. They can still hear us. This is not a metaphor. It made for a great first date!
And never forget, for every Scream™ you will earn an authentic Van Zandt tribal pendant, made from high quality salt crystals. This is a guarantee from AndyVan himself, or his name isn’t Andronicus Q. Fensterwaffles! Look into the mirror shine of the white salt floor and see your friends looking back. They’re not real. But they are still yours, and that’s what counts.
Cookie Momma’s Cookie Mansion
Tired from Screaming™? Come on over to Cookie Momma’s Cookie Mansion where you can have yourself some fine, home-grown, legally distinct, cream-filled chocolate sandwich biscuits! Enjoy some good old fashioned cookies, just like the cactus folk used to make while playing Dungeons and Drunkards with the Cookie Father. In spite of the carpet-like hair, we’re fairly certain he’s human, but either way she loves him, and that’s all that matters.
Remember, the chocolate coated reuben waffles are a must-try. You’ll Scream™ in joy with just a taste! (Warning – Do have insulin on hand). Remember, the Cookie Couple want you to know you’re loved, no matter what comes from the distant river (which is very much our property).
Historical Van Zandt
Across the street and past lovely, historical city hall is the historical district where you can find some of our oldest structures; the Grand ole Opry! Wide Tom’s Been House! The Mayor’s Prison! But of course, you can’t enjoy the beauty of the Van Zandt historical district without a visit to Innocent Will’s House of the Blameless!
The oldest church in Van Zandt that’s still standing, Innocent Will’s House of the Blameless preaches to us from the book of memes! With the light of Z0rg, Will regales us with the deep philosophies of the prophets of our pyromaniac demiurge. How does a pipe organ play so beautifully while on fire? Don’t ask me! Ask the native cactus folk whose graves we built the church over! Don’t worry if the choir ends with more members than it started with or that they are a brackish green. They always go away afterwards and only leave a few needles to ever prove they were there (which they weren’t’).
Will himself reminds us that we are all Z0rg’s children, even my ex-car (who took the kids), and we should all take to heart that beautiful fire which burns in us all (except for the birds. That would be unethical. They are government property). Don’t forget to go to confession like we discussed earlier.
But of course, you’ve only had breakfast and a snack today, so now it’s time for lunch. Right next door is the prize jewel of Van Zandt’s historical district, the ever famous Wide Tom’s Bean House! There is nothing better than a good old Fifteen-Bean Pie with some Maple Lentil Gravy, or perhaps some Avocados with Refried Red Bean Syrup™! Remember, quality is a Wide Tom guarantee, as is crippling gas-pains. And remember, the beans are processed as unethically as possible. They know what they did. The price of treason is eternal and shall be forever remembered in the capra songs of Hy Brasil…
The Old Clinic
Now, our tour is only half way done and you already have a throat sore from Screaming™ and Yelling™ earlier. You may have some gastro-intestinal pain and needle wounds (which are a hallucination). Come by the old Clinic where our most Ethical™ Duck, Psydoc, who has avoided the batter by law and to keep us healthy and alive. This cheerful aquatic avian has 7 doctorates, and at least two of them are accredited. He’ll treat your migraines and maladies with mysterious mallard medicine and you’ll feel right as rain.
He warns you not to go ahead. He fears you do not have the wherewithal to take all this great tourism in one great day. It isn’t his psychic powers warning of the coming darkness beyond the lunatic stones. He just wants you to get some rest, but you know you won’t listen. You’re having too much fun. And remember, Halzikar will always protect you. He’s our premier luchador and the Cerberus of our gray desert. You’ll find no one better to keep you from unhappening on this side of the Cocytus (which is our damn river, damnit)!
(Editor’s note: AndyVan has acquired the trademark on the word Ethical™. Do not defy the trademark. The Cactus Folk still have influence in the angles.)
The Looney Rock
After enjoying the illustrious historical district, it’s time to head on over one of our most beautiful supernatural sites. Past the salt desert, we come to the mountains that we swear look like boobs. The birds. The other kind would be Unethical™. Here, where no birds gather is our beautiful Looney Rock! Old Man Whacker waits and watches the western sky as, to his back, Krispy continues to paint with eyes that no longer see light.
Watch as Old Man Whacker describes the furbies in exquisite detail as Krispy draws them without ever looking to see. If you listen between the syllables, you can find the path to enlightenment. He tells you to walk diagonally. Don’t walk diagonally. You are not a bishop. It would be Unethical™. You really should go to confession. Seriously.
Of course, after an entrancing nine hours of their oracle speech, you now know about Mad Ducks’ ethical treatment of the Cactus Folk and why Innocent Will’s House™ of the Blameless cannot stop screaming or burning at night (the building not the occupants). This is still not a Metaphor™.
You stumble into the darkness, where through the strange yellow sky the black stars rise, and you realize your friends have become Real™. Randolph is standing there, our brave mayor. Why isn’t he in the Mayor’s Prison? Have you doomed Us™?
He stands there waiting for you, out of his prison, which is very much your fault. He smiles and asks you a simple question; “Will your good deeds prevent them from waking up?” It’s okay. Your friends are Real™ now and Halzikar will keep you Safe™.
You walk away, ready to return to the darkness of your Hotel. But you can’t. The hotel was always a metaphor. There is no going home for you. You walked diagonally, which is unethical. We warned you. Your Real™ friends warned you. You’ve doomed them.
You flee to the West, knowing that Whacker sees you and still dreams of the blind painter’s work. Your dreams begin to fracture under the black stars of the un-Eastern vaults of firmament.
Doctor Who’s the Chef’s Bistro & Parallax’s Painting Patio
At last, you come to one of our most asked for Tourist™ destinations! After all, you’re famished. You’ve had no dinner yet and the night-life is bustling! Take in the breathtaking atmosphere of Doctor Who’s the Chef’s Bistro, on the boardwalk on the River™ (THAT WE CLEARLY OWN). Enjoy the finest cuts of ethically sourced meat as you listen to the singing of King Goat, who continues his capra songs and tells you of Hy Brasil™.
Try the tomato sandwiches with a fine Cheese™ soup, or perhaps the Roadkill Soufflé! But your a discerning Customer™, aren’t you! You’ve come here because you know that Dr. Who’s the Chef (a question we still don’t have an Answer™ too) is a legendary for cooking your dreams! You order the Dream Carbonara and wait. It’s delicious. It loves you more than your car ever did.
Of™ course, what’s better than Dinner™, except Dinner™ with a Show™? At Dr. Who’s the Chef’s Bistro, your are the Show™! That’s right; the bistro is just a tabletop terrain, being painted on Parallax’s Paint Patio! You are a mini to be painted over. He holds you with tender care. A kind Vallejo Blue touches your plastic self as he paints you with deep attention. You are loved. Cookie Momma told you as much. But your real Friends™ aren’t here any more, only the scrutinous eyes Of™ Parallax. It is precise. It is exacting. Squic warned you. Why didn’t your read the warning? Halzikar™ can no longer protect you. It wouldn’t be Ethical™.
Parallax has finished painting. He has taken his love and your Friends™ with him. The bistro, the boardwalk, the Patio, the river (That is certainly ours)… they are all gone. They left without you. All you have is the Catalytic Converter that the car left you when she eloped with Krispy™.
The Cave of Sir Digs
Alone™, you™ and your™ catalytic converter™ enter the distant™ canyon™. The black sands™ are now stained™ crimson™ with the red™ path™ you™ walk™. The converter™ whispers nothing into the hollow of your™ ear and at last you™ come to the Cave. The Cave… It’s in™ the brochure. You™ read about it™. Here our friendliest™ bear™, Sir Digs, comes to sleep. If™ you™ seek him out amid the twilight™, he™ might give™ you™ a good wisdom. But he™ isn’t™ here anymore™.
In™ the™ cave™ is™ a™ bear™… a™ bear™ that™ once™ was™ Digs™. In™ that™ bear’s™ heart™ is™ a™ cave™… He™ stares™ at™ you™ with™ hollow™ eyes™ awaiting™ for™ the™ day™ no™ one™ wishes™ him™ a™ happy™ birthday™. He™ cries™ your™ tears™…
You™ run™ from™ the™ cave™ of™ the™ Bear™ that™ once™ was™ Digs™. In™ the™ frigid™ desert™ night™, you™ hear™ only™ the™ thirsting™ cackle™ of™ the™ cactus™ gods™ in™ the™ hisses™ of™ wind™ upon™ the™ sand™ and™ in™ the™ sound™ of™ Crow’s™ voice™ as™ he™ croaks™ out™ dark™ prophetic™ truths™. He™ mocks™ you™. Crow™ laughs™… He™ laughs™ because™ you™ have™ been™ treated™ ethically™, and™ the™ car™ will™ never™ come™ back™…
We Hope to See You Here!
[Editor’s note: Our writer Storm Song has been hospitalized for drinking too much of the local Cactus Juice. Please, do not indulge in the local Cactus Juice without Supervision.]
Well, folks, it’s been a great tour and we hope to see you soon. We’ll have some Chocolate Reuben Waffles waiting. And remember, you are always welcome here in the Free State of Van Zandt, the pride of the unincorporated periphery! Now, if y’all would pardon me… I need to go to confession™…
Storm Song is a musician, sound engineer, video editor, and Hussite revolutionary. Hailing from dry mountains near that wrong turn at Albuquerque, his name strikes fear into those who just want a moment of silence. Leave him an offering of sushi and he may just spare your eardrums!
