GRAB YOUR GHOULISHLY GOOD OLYMPICS POSTER FREE INSIDE!Leap Council gets ready to welcome a ‘big cele-bat-ty’
BY BRANDY STOKER
AT a recent meeting of the Leap Loonity Council, it was announced that the village is bracing itself for the impending arrival of a big celebatty.
The Prince of the Skies himself, Count Dracula, is expected to touch down near the Leap Inn ‘some time soon’, members were told.
Cllr Scare D Katt asked ‘what time exactly’ would the Count be arriving. ‘Six, seven or eight pm?’ she wondered. ‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ replied the count-y manager, Mr Big Boss. ‘He likes to make a grand entrance and catch everyone – by surprise.’
‘Hooooowwww will we recognise him?’ asked Dr Spoo Keyghost.
‘By his black cloak, his bad teeth, and his very distinctive entourage, of course,’ replied the town crier, Johnny Tears.
‘His on-tour what?’ asked Cllr Ticket E Boo, who was always a little hard of hearing.
‘His distinctive EN TOUR AGE!’ shouted Mr Tears in response. ‘What distinctive entourage is that?’ roared the town’s most elderly resident, Ms Little O’Lady, from the public gallery.
‘Well, the real cele-batties, of course,’ replied Mr Tears, now nearly beside himself with frustration. ‘His 666 horsehoe bats.’ ‘What?? 666 horsehoe bats?’ shrieked Ms O’Lady, from above. ‘Isn’t 666 the mark of he-who-shall-never be mentioned?’
‘Shoes? Bats wearing shoes with 60 sticks?’ asked Cllr E Boo, but everyone ignored him. As usual.
‘I do not know who that is,’ replied Mr Tears. ‘But he said 666 is the most he can afford to bring through the toll bridge outside Fearmoy.’ ‘Oh that’s some bat-tel getting all those little fellas through the toll bridge right enough,’ said Cllr I. Twitch. ‘Especially if the Cork Traffic Squad is on the look-out for anyone flying on the M8.
‘Should we give him a reception?’ asked Cllr Broom Handel. ‘I’ll make some nice garlic bread and pizza,’ said Ms O’Lady. ‘Everyone loves my garlic bread.’
‘I don’t think that’s such a good idea,’ replied Dr Keyghost. ‘Why?’ shouted Ms O’Lady, leaning dangerously over the old gallery railings. ‘Because he has bad teeth,’ said the doctor.
Golden oars stolen
Petrifying Paul and Frightening Fintan have an axe to grind.
BY PAUL TERGYST
THE search for the Golden Oars of Glory stolen from Skibbereen Roaring Club has led local gardaí to a notorious criminal, Michael Myers, who is hiding out up the back of Leap (UBL).
The legend of the Golden Oars stretches back generations to when two heroic ghostbusters, Petrifying Paul and Frightening Fintan, armed with their demon-bashing oars, drove all the ghastly ghouls out of West Cork, hunting them down the Ilen River before banishing them into the Sea of Nothingness.
On their return to Skibbereen Roaring Club, Petrifying Paul and Frightening Fintan placed their oars into their Stone of Skibb, demanding they were never to be touched for fear that if they were moved the scary spooks would return to haunt the land once more.
For decades the Golden Oars of Glory were left alone, until recently when it’s believed the dangerous Michael Myers, known to rise every Halloween, stole the oars in the hope that the fiendish monsters would return from the Sea of Nothingness and wreak terror across the region.
As the mist of doom creeps up the Ilen River and the skies of West Cork darken, local gardaí, led by captain Lou Tennant, have stepped up their search for Michael Myers so they can return the Golden Oars of Glory and ensure peace returns.
Spokesperson Diane Rott said: ‘Michael Myers is easily identifiable – he’s wearing a Kerry jersey and shorts with hiking boots, a sign of just how mad he is.
He was spotted walking very slowly from the Harbour Bar to Cronin’s Centra, but then disappeared into UBL.’
Anyone with information on the whereabouts of Michael Myers and the oars is urged not to approach the Halloween horror, but to contact Petrifying Paul and Frightening Fintan at Skibbereen Roaring Club.
Michael Myers, who is hiding out up the back of Leap.
Killer tunes at The Dead Beat
Double of decks of death metal - ready to roll at The Dead Beat.
A sonically spooky new music venue catering for lovers of death metal, deep house (haunted of course) and blood-curdling country has opened its doors in West Cork.
Simply called ‘The Dead Beat’, the cavernous venue located up the back of Leap, boasts a sound system capable of ‘making ears bleed and reinvigorating roadkill’ and is run by Doomcore musician DP Graves. Wanting to keep an emphasis on the music, DP – known to his friends as ‘Deep’ –has eschewed the use of what he describes as ‘painful and intrusive’ lighting and insists that bands perform in complete darkness, although, in deference to his neighbours, draws the line at ‘waking the dead’ volume levels.
Clientele are asked to BYOC (Bring Your Own Candle) if they are concerned about the lack of light and they are charged a small fee for use of same. DP claims this is to do with preserving what little oxygen is in the windowless venue at any given time.
In a somewhat crypt-ic reply when asked about his vision for The Dead Beat, DP Graves told The Southern Star that he wants it to be known for ‘deadly nights full of killer tunes’ but that he does not want it to gain a reputation as a great ‘live’ venue.
See you there, if you dare.
Caws for concern
Black days for Leap’s crows.
BY DOUG GRAVES
CROWS in a West Cork village say they are being harassed and scared by an influx of scary creatures on the roadside.
The Leap Scarecrow Festival spells trouble for many frightened flyers, with the wild and wonderful visitors causing quite a shock.
‘What are we supposed to do? We can't snatch food nor poop on an unsuspecting bystander with all these scary scarecrows,’ said one angry avian. ‘It’s not good enough.’
The scarecrows of Leap have been gathering in the village over the past few days for their annual celebration of spookiness for Samhain. They come in all shapes in sizes, to the delight of the local residents – except those with beaks.
Many crows and other birds have decamped to Connonagh and Skibbereen for a few days of solace from the scarecrows.
‘It’s a peckin’ disgrace,’ said Packie Préachán, a local spokescrow. ‘I can’t go to lunch in the village or anything. There was supposed to be a gig by Counting Crows in Connollys but that’s off now too. Looks like Wcylef was right, we’ll be gone til November.’
