OBX Report

Locals and tourist alike are struggling today after a category 4 hurricane party hit the Outer Banks on Labor Day weekend. The governor has declared a state of emergency, and emergency services are working overtime trying to clean up the mess that is the OBX right now.

With no power and fading cell phone batteries, people had very few excuses not to party. “It was a rough, hot Summer; people were ready to cut loose,” Said Hurricane Party expert Niles Anderson.

After a Summer of flat or lackluster sales many businesses worried that Tropical Storm Hermine would extinguish their last hope at a good year.  Early reports are showing that is the case for businesses that make their money on outdoor activities like jet ski rentals and horse tours. Alcohol purchases on the other hand were up by triple digit percentages. The tax generated alone by these sales was enough to balance the state budget.

Sound side flooding has begun to recede, but the hangover is showing no signs of stopping. In fact when the flood waters were tested, they were found to have a B.A.C. of .13. Well above the legal limit for flooding.

Erosion has been rampant and wide spread. From the beach road in Kitty Hawk, to the causeway, to the beaches of Hatteras island, to the esophagus. Experts are making rough estimates that Hurricane Hermine has caused at least 3 million dollars in damage to the livers of local party goers. FEMA issued a statement reminding people that they will not be distributing money to those who’s damage is self inflicted.

“Ain’t no party like a hurricane party,” Said local bar scene regular Ashley Johnston. When asked to elaborate her only reply was, “Because it’s a hurricane party! Woooo!”

Local government officials were able to use radar and social media to track the intensity of the hurricane partying. “We saw a lull in the partying Saturday morning. That is what is called the eye of the hurricane party. But by the time the power cut out around noon, the festivities resumed with sustained parting of 50 gusts of up 95 beers per hour.”

Walgreens, CVS, and Rite Aid are all reporting severe shortages on Tums, Imodium, Maalox, and Alka Seltzer. Breakfast restaurants are putting extra bacon grease in their food this morning to do their part. Emergency services are requesting that people stay in their homes, until their blood alcohol level returns to normal.

With power still not restored in some places, county officials are worried the partying will continue. “Our guys are working as fast as we safely can to get the power on so people stop drinking,” said Virginia Powerman Bill, “I got crews from all over Virginia down here to help fix this, and they are working overtime. I would just like to ask people to stop harassing and obstructing them. We have to turn the power back on, and no we can’t go somewhere else first. You have to work tomorrow anyway, it is time to stop partying.”

Corolla – 12 year old Bobby Jameson from White Sulfur Springs West Virginia is ready to hit the surf with his newly acquired Great White Shark Styrofoam body board. He has been training for months in his Grandmother’s bath tub, and watching footage from his spectacular display last year.

“I think I can improve on a few things,” Bobby informed this reporter unprovoked as we were voraciously eating all the free cookies, “I’m gonna try and get closer to the beach so the wave is already crashed when I ride it. Then it will push me way harder directly straight into the sand.”

“He’s a natural,” Bobby’s mom volunteered as this reporter was trying to look away without feigning interest, “Last year he flipped completely over when he rode the wave in! His Nana was so proud of him she almost got out of her Tommy Bahama beach chair.”

“I wish I could buy two boards,” Bobby said as he followed the reporter who had finished stuffing the remaining cookies into his cargo shorts and began walking to the exit, “since I broke my board half way through vacation last year, and I lost out on shredding it those last three days.”

“One board is enough,” His mother said in an accent that can’t be described here without offending people, “It’s the best beach toy because when it breaks open all the little Styrofoam comes out, and dissolves in the ocean. You don’t have to worry about dragging it up the long walk to the beach house. The the boards just magically take care of themselves.”

“I think I can do a 360 no scope on my board this year,” Bobby kept on about as this reporter frantically blew into the blow and go in order to start his scooter, “I’m gonna show all those skim boarders I can do just as good as them one day. Mom says when Nana dies we will have enough money for a Hard Slick™.”

Police were called to the beach Monday to quell a spontaneous Civil War reenactment. Witnesses say it all started when Tim Guthrie, 41, of Tennessee made a snide comment about the rebel flag swimming suits of the family next to him at the Baltic St beach access. Randall Johnson, of Ohio took umbrage with the comments and decided to say something about it. The men exchanged words or grunts according to witnesses, and began shoving each other. The significant other’s of the men decided to start exchanging insults and began circiling. After much yelling and mouth breathing, Johnson finally swung at, but did not connect with Guthrie. The spouses locked arms and began pulling eachother’s hair. Even the children of the families began to hit chase eachother.

At that point all the beach goers wearing American flag bathing suits, which constitutes a large percentage of people on the beach, joined into the melee. Things were not looking good for Johnson, but out of nowhere an entire family of confederate flag wearers crested the dune. With a Rebel yell they descended into the fray.

Nags Head Police arrived shortly after, and put an end to the altercation. According to Officer Drumdulerman, “There wasn’t much real fighting going on. They were mostly chasing each other all over the beach. I don’t think the guy that started it even put his beer down. The only thing that was damaged was a Hard Slick body board that caught on fire after a cigarette was dropped on it.”

When contacted, the Outer Banks History Center told the OBX Report, that this is the first ever impromptu Civil War reenactment on the Outer Banks. “We haven’t had this kind of beach shenanigans since the The Chicamacomico Races in 1861,” said Historian Laura Barkley, “We love that the visitors to the Outer Banks are really engaging with the history here. It just goes to show that just because they go to the Aquarium, beach, Jockey’s Ridge, Lost Colony, and basically every other attraction but us, they still want to learn about history.”

After a story about a venomous strain of hermit crab, known as the Viper Crab, appeared in the OBX Report, gullible store owners across the Outer Banks began destroying their hermit crab stocks to prevent the spread of the invasive species. Complicating matters, many well intentioned merchants flushed their hermit crabs down the toilet, causing a surge in emergency plumbing calls.

The OBX Report would remind readers that this publication is a satirical news site and what appears on our pages is, in fact, only marginally more factual than a typical presidential candidate’s press release. In point of fact, we are glad readers enjoy our stories, but they should not be taken seriously, and for the love of all that is holy, nobody should start a jihad against innocent creatures such as hermit crabs based on our reporting.

So, to summarize, Viper Crabs, much like the Loch Ness Monster, Giant Sea Gulls in Hatteras, Big Foot and Trump University Diplomas (or, if you prefer, commemorative shell casings from the Hillary Clinton Bosnian sniper attack.) are not real. Complete fabrications. While it is true, as carcinologist Dr. Samuelson noted in the original report, both Nile Crabs and wolf spiders have eight legs, it is simply not possible for them to produce offspring that are not sterile. Kind of like that whole thing with horse, donkeys and mules.

In any case, we sincerely regret any role we have played in the destruction of the local captivate hermit crab population. If you have not murdered your hermit crab yet, please refrain from doing so based on our previous story. It will likely die by its own volition in 4-6 weeks after purchase anyway. No need to steal what few precious moments your pet has left.

And please stop emailing, calling, and texting us. We said we were sorry. It was enough for Mel Gibson. It should be enough for you.

Outer Banks – A twenty-year old man from Ohio is in the hospital recovering from the deadly sting of a Coenobita Venana, commonly known as the Viper Crab, that he suffered at a local area pet shop. The reappearance of the deadly crustacean spells trouble for local area stores that are heavily dependent on the hermit crab trade.

Viper Crabs have plagued beach civilizations since at the days of the Pharaohs. Historians have speculated that the great Egyptian queen, Cleopatra, poisoned herself with a Viper Crab rather than an asp as has been commonly reported.

Carcinologist Dr. Drey Samuelson explained that the Viper Crab did not actually evolve, rather it was bred by the early Egyptians in one of the earliest known examples of genetic manipulation.

“Back then, somebody thought it would be a good idea to cross breed a Nile crab with a wolf spider,” explained Dr. Samuelson. “I guess they figured both had eight legs, so why not? It was a spectacularly bad idea on the order of Alexander Graham Bell’s six-nippled sheep experiment, only difference being Bell’s sheep couldn’t destroy a civilization.”

The Viper Crabs are not likely to wipe out civilization, but they will put an enormous dent in the hermit crab trade. Viper Crabs are able to mate and reproduce with their harmless Coenobitidae cousins. The venomous nature of the offspring isn’t evident until approximately six months after birth when the inch-long fangs erupt. Already, agents from the North Carolina Department of Monster Control are fanning out across the Outer Banks, gassing both wild and domestic colonies of hermit crabs.

“We thought they’d been wiped out back in ‘08,” said Tim Babbleton, owner of Deepwater Horizon, a local curios store that has been trafficking hermit crabs since 1970. “Them comin’ back now right before the big Labor Day weekend…man. It’s worse than a hurricane.”

Buxton – Residents have been on the lookout. Reports have been flooding in about a Seagull of enormous size that has been spotted in the skies over Buxton. Vacationer Phillis Phundelson of Intercourse, Pennsylvania spotted the great beast.

“I heard this tremendous racket behind me as I was walking toward the beach. I turned and saw this monster of a seagull bearing down on me. I just managed to dive behind a dune before the beast grabbed at me with its webbed feet that were as big as tents. I jumped up and snapped a picture of it as it disappeared in the sunrise, heading out to sea.”

She was further quoted as saying, “Yinz got some dang big Pigeons down here.” But no one understood her.

Residents believe the monstrous bird may be nesting in one of the offshore oil rigs.

OBX Report’s attempts to raise communication with the rig were met with bloodcurdling screams for help followed by silence. Massive feathers, some up to twelve feet long, have been found floating in the general direction of the oil rig, and none of the crew have been seen ashore for weeks.

When asked about this, authorities said they were ‘mildly concerned’.

In a statement issued yesterday, under the protection of anonymity, a local officer stated,  “I didn’t see nuthin’.” He then quickly ran off while shooting furtive looks skyward.

A local conservationist was quoted as saying, “Good, I hope it eats ‘em all.”

At the moment a massive net is being secured to the Cape Hatteras lighthouse. A flatbed truck arrived yesterday morning, carrying the world’s largest cheese curl to be used as bait.

OBX reports will continue to report on this story as developments arise.

Wanchese – Natives and long-time locals of this coastal fishing village on the south end of Roanoke Island will soon see a familiar face in the Wanchese Winn-Dixie. At the end of the checkout line they may notice a strange bearded figure bagging their groceries, Johnny Nepkin. With his colorful clothing and pointy hat, he has stood as a warning figure for generations of Wanchesers.

Shopper Theodore “Fink” Daniels remembers his mother telling him that “if I didn’t behave, Johnny Nepkin would visit in the night, toss me into a sack, and carry me off into the swamp.” Fink and many others in the village often kept to the straight and narrow to avoid being abducted by this local Boogie Man.

Nonetheless, after decades of frightening children, Mr. Nepkin is now working at an hourly-wage job at the local supermarket. When asked what prompted the career change, Nepkin replied, “I don’t know. I believe in my heart that I was serving an important purpose for the community and that several kids turned their lives around because of me. But I gotta tell you, it is hard on the soul to do that kind of work. Kids can be exhausting, especially when you are stealing them from their homes in the night.”

When pressed, though, Nepkin admits that he may have had other reasons to pursue a different path: “OK, OK, I’m being straight with you here, it didn’t help that Goat Man retired to write that stupid blog. We had a partnership, and without him, I have nowhere to take the sacks of kids. He left me high and dry. Anyway, if he can make an honest living, I figure I can, too.”

At this point, the store manager walked by and glared pointedly at Nepkin. “Listen,” the former mass kidnapper hissed, hastily bagging a two-liter bottle of Tahitian Treat, a Fleet enema, and a box of Ho-Ho’s, “I have to get back to work. I need this job, man. I applied everywhere, but with my resume, well, bagging things is pretty much all I have ever done.”

Cashier Joanne “Toenail” Midgette added, “Yeah, I grew up terrified of Johnny Nepkin, and I have to say it was really creepy working next to him the first couple of days, but man, can that guy bag some groceries. He keeps us all laughing, too, I mean, seriously, Dude, that hat!”

After his shift, Nepkin admitted that the hours are longer than he is used to working, but at least the job is during daylight hours: “That’s one good thing, I guess. I was always on third shift before, but now I get to have a semi-normal life. Matter of fact, I am meeting Goat Man for an after-hours drink right now. We’re going to go sit up on the top deck at Mulligan’s, and drink Orange Crushes. Goat Man, of course, only drinks Bloody Mary’s, like that isn’t completely cliché.” Nepkin rolled his eyes and chortled, got on his moped, and puttered away toward the beach, now just another regular guy trying to survive.

Jennette’s Pier, Nags Head – Today on historic Jennette’s Pier at Whalebone Junction in Nags Head, Governor Pat McCrory announced an aggressive beach nourishment program for the Outer Banks of North Carolina. After a brief introduction by State Senator Phil “No Homo” Berger, McCrory spoke to those assembled on the concrete pier.

“I want to thank the great people of Dare County for the warm welcome. Tourism is the engine of the local economy, and I know that beach erosion is a serious problem for the residents and for the small businesses that make this country great. I want you to know that I have heard your complaints.” The crowd gave a smattering of polite applause.

“Now, although there is no real scientific proof that global warming exists, we plan to do something about it anyway. Now, sure, we could come up with some big government program to dredge up sand from the ocean floor and spread it along the beach, but isn’t throwing government money around the real problem? Private enterprise has always proven to do a better job for less money, and it just so happens that at the exact time I need material to put on our beaches, I have friends in private industry who have quite a bit of material that they need to get rid of. Two birds with one stone, so to speak.” The crowd exhibited a mixture of cautious optimism and dawning realization.

“To that end,” the governor announced, “my friends at Duke Energy, who have been so generous to my campaigns and the campaigns of my friends in the North Carolina General Assembly, have graciously offered to transport all of the coal ash in their containment basins out to the coast to be spread along the beaches from the Virginia border down to Ocracoke. We estimate that this selfless act by one of our most valued industrial partners, will extend the beach an average of one hundred to one hundred fifty feet.”

“Now, some people may complain about the color of the ash, but do you know how much people pay to go to Hawaii to see the black sands on their coastline? We will have the only black beaches on the east coast, unless we can get more offshore drilling approved, and it will be a major tourist draw and boon to the local economy.”

“And to those who keep whining about chromium in the coal ash, think about this. When I was a kid, chromium was a good thing. We put it on our cars to make them shiny, and we were proud of it. I guess maybe liberal tree-huggers aren’t proud of America, but gosh darn it, I sure am.” The crowd roared with applause at the mention of the name of their country, and responded with an impromptu chant of “‘Murrica, ‘Murrica, ‘Murrica”.

Beaming in the glow of North Carolina patriotism, McCrory continued his speech: “When we have extended the beaches, we plan to start building up the elevation of coastal properties a uniform fifty feet above sea level using the same coal ash. Certainly, most houses will have to be raised, but this will take them out of the flood zone, saving millions of dollars in flood insurance, and the construction industry will get a windfall from the house-raising jobs. It’s a win-win.”

Following the announcement, McCrory flashed a double-V for Victory sign, marked his territory at the end of the pier, and was driven back to Raleigh in a sleek black limousine.

Southern Shore – Some segments of the posh community of Southern Shores has a huge problem on its hands. And, there seems to be no good solution in sight. During Tuesday’s town council meeting nearly 100 residents, most of whom live along the fairway of the Duck Woods County Club came forth to complain that their properties are being bombarded with too many flyaway golf balls. Irate comments, laced with expletives heard only in hard core rap, filled the air as many speakers were gaveled down by mayor Thom Burnett for exceeding their three minute allocation. Four speakers, including 90 year old Harvey Creedmor, had to be escorted to the doorway and into the lobby by police chief Robert Cole, who was at the meeting to deliver a monthly report on his department’s effort to stop tourist from using the town’s streets as a shortcut to Duck and Corolla.

“It’s all about money”, screamed Doris Smithson, who said she spends too much time fishing golf balls out of her swimming pool. “Half the people I see out on the course don’t know a golf ball from a toad stool, said Smithson. “People come to the Outer Banks on vacation and think they have to play golf here, when they’ve never played the game in their life. The club takes their money and turns them loose and they spray golf balls in everyone’s yard, break windows, scare our pets and damage our property” she said. “It’s time for action, visitation is out of control and our property values keep going down”.

“I say, take their money, but give them only one golf ball,” shouted Leo Busch from his chair. “When they lose that ball, it’s game overl!”

“That’s easy for you to say,” rebutted George Stone, whose home backs up to the fairway on the first hole. I get more golf balls than any of you, have more broken windows and can’t let my dog out during the day to take a leak.

“Build a wall around the damn fairway,” screamed old lady Thelma Fruton, while telling the lady next to her, “I don’t know why my son moved me to this God-forsaken Hell Hole in the first place”.

“I didn’t realize the problem has gotten so bad,” said councilman Walt Phizenmier, “but I dropped my club membership years ago”.

“It’s not like the old days,” shouted Sam Torthammer. “When I moved here from Jersey, no one could play but members. Today, we let anyone with a dollar bill on the course and its not even safe to sit in our backyards. Hell, one day last week, there were two young metal scrappers wading around the waterholes picking up bent golf clubs.”

“What’s the town going to do about this?” shouted Percy Kavenish, whose home backs up to the 17th hole. “It’s not just golf balls. I have to deal with beer cans and other trash. Where do these people come from?”

After nearly two hours of public comments, and upon the advice of town attorney Burnie Gallop, the board told the audience they did not see the issue as a town problem. “It’s a private club,” said mayor Burnett. “You deal with it”.

“Well then, you need to come by my house and look after my aging mother-in-law, shouted Marvin Milstein. Everytime a golf ball hits the side of my house, she wets her pants !”

“You’re out of order, shouted Burnett. Escort him to the door”.

Corolla – The discovery of a male adolescent in a fourteen-room rental house in Corolla, North Carolina has raised some disturbing questions in this upscale vacation community.

The Cooper family of Piscataway, NJ was holding a reunion in the home over the weekend of July 4. Fifteen children from eight different families led to some confusion over which child belonged to which set of parents. As Dallas Cooper, Jr. explained, “There were so many kids running around that eventually we stopped worrying about it and just kind of communally watched over them all: feeding, supervising swimming and games, and bedtimes.”

Evidently, nobody claimed the twelve-year-old boy who wore a tattered T-shirt from the rental company and a pair of dirty blue board shorts every day, nobody remarked where he went at bedtime, and nobody except the other kids noticed that he hoarded extra food at every meal.

“Yeah, I seen him stuff three weenies in a grocery bag once and then sneak out of the room,” stated ten-year-old Houston Cooper. “I just figured he had an eating disorder or something, but I never figured out where he took all them weenies.”

Nobody probably would ever have found out, either, had family patriarch Austin Cooper not realized that he had left his glasses on his night stand. The rest of the family had already left the house, but when Austin drove back to retrieve the glasses he found the boy later dubbed “McMansion Boy” cleaning the leftover food from the refrigerator. Mr. Cooper at first thought that one of the other Coopers had left him behind, but upon questioning the boy panicked and disappeared up the stairs.

Authorities later found the boy in an unfinished section of the attic: “He had built quite a den up there,” reported Officer Sleem. “He had a small bed that he had dragged up there from one of the bedrooms, a mini-fridge that he apparently found somewhere beside the road, and a large larder of junk food pilfered from vacationers. He had run an extension cord up there for electricity and a hose for water.”

Social Services took custody of the boy and attempted to identify him and find his parents, but they discovered that the child had limited communication skills. Social Services Media Spokesperson Deena Medea explained, “At first he only pointed and made grunts and snorts, but later we learned that he knew two phrases in English: ‘Go Redskins’ and ‘Go Steelers'”.

Subsequent investigations have led authorities to believe that the boy had been living in the house since he was four, hiding in the attic and mingling with groups large enough that he could go unnoticed. Officer Sleem: “His original family probably became disoriented from too much sun and Corona Lights and simply forgot him when they left the house at the end of their rental week. The little guy has spent years scrounging for food during the day and hiding in the attic at night. It’s like those stories you hear about kids being raised by wolves, only this one was raised by tourists.”

Although protesters have agitated for his re-release back into his natural habitat or into a similar giant rental house, local realty companies are reluctant to accept the accept the responsibility, fearing lawsuits.