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Fakes: When You Can Sincere That, You’ve Got it Made! [ARNS]

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BY BARBARA BRUNDTLAND-GOVANNI, EDITRIX-IN-CHIEF

The only reason the Alternate Reality News Service has any readers at all is because of our reputation as a reliable source of information about random shenanigans and other goings on around the multiverse. Well, okay, reliablish. Reliablesque? Okay, we can be had for cheap. But that’s something our readers can rely on.

Naturally, when something happens that threatens our reputation, we spring into action. Okay, that may have been a bit of an exaggeration. It’s more accurate to say that we hop into low-energy activity. Or, to be totally honest, we do a big stretch into lethargy. But at least we do something!

You may recently have received an email containing a picture of my smiling face and an endorsement for Colonel Stuyvesant’s Magicke Colo-rectal Cleanser and Suntan Lotion. (If you didn’t, it may be because you aren’t on our mailing list – and, considering how much love and sweat and…and…and sheer pixels we put into it, how can you be such a heartless bastard‽) You may have read about how Stuyvesant, a General in Gran’s Army, discovered the combination digestive system enhancer/tanning aid when he lived among the Ogowaywichoo people of Western East Tambor.

DON’T BE FOOLED! IT’S A SCAM! Nobody at the Alternate Reality News Service has been paid for the ad. I certainly haven’t, and that’s good enough for me to call scam.

The first clue that the ad was fake should have been the photo of my smiling face. I haven’t smiled since I was three, when I bit Aunt Sophistry’s coochie-coo finger. I’m not going to kid you: the blood flowed freely that day. Brundtland-Govannis don’t smile: we get even.

The second clue should have been the instructions on how to use the product. According to the ad, you should brew a tablespoonful of the paste into an aromatic (burning rubber is an aroma, right?) tea and drink it in order to keep your skin from burning in the winter heat; conversely, you can apply the paste directly onto your arms and legs to keep your…digestive system fresh as a spring-loaded day in Ireland. This is wrong on so many levels, it may as well introduce itself by saying, “Hello. I’m a pyramid scheme and you’re at the bottom – how many bottles of Colonel Stuyvesant’s Magicke Colo-rectal Cleanser and Suntan Lotion can we start you off with?”

The third clue should have been the “country” of Western East Tambor. Jeffrey Tambor is a terrific actor whose performances have given us many hours of pleasure, but not enough for anybody to name an entire country after him. A street, perhaps. Or a bench in a park (not a major park, of course – more like a parkette). Or a public bathroom. Yes, definitely a public bathroom. And anyway, if a country had been named after him, it’s more likely it would have been called South Northern Jeffrey.

DON’T BE FOOLED! IT’S A SCAM! SORRY ABOUT THIS. THE CAPS KEY ON MY LAPTOP SEEMS TO BE – UNGGH! – STUCK. LET ME JUST – HUFF HUFF HUFF HUFF HUFF – TRY – RIIIIIIIIIP!

Thanks for your understanding, everybody. Yes, I’m really enjoying my new laptop. Sure, I am. Can’t you see me smiling?

According to Phil, the mechanic from the shop down the street (yes, I can quote Phil, the mechanic from the shop down the street – The Tech Answer Guy doesn’t own him, you know!), sophisticated hackers are piggybacking on the reputations of major publications to get gullible readers to give them money, and Alternate Reality News Service readers are among the most gullible.

A good way to tell if an offer from a publisher – hey! I thought gullible meant somebody ate like a seagull: messily and with much thrashing about in water. Hunh – learn something new every day – did not come from them is to check the email address. For example, a typical Alternate Reality News Service address looks like: [NAME]@ARNS.ca. Clean. Simple. Classic. The scam email address read: Mxyzptlk@ArgglebargleRemedialNudivityScene.fu. Dirty. Complicated. New.

The scam came to our attention because readers sent us complaints about Colonel Stuyvesant’s Magicke Colo-rectal Cleanser and Suntan Lotion. “It tastes like burning rubber and it made me see double – I’m sure Mrs. Gettilee doesn’t have a twin sister!” wrote – hey! Do you really think I’m here to stroke your ego by naming you in my article, Jerry Tachy-Cardio? I’m not your – doh!

Another reader wrote: “When I spread Colonel Stuyvesant’s Magicke Colo-rectal Cleanser and Suntan Lotion onto my arm, it turned into a bunch of strawberries. And I’m allergic to fruit!”

Please stop sending your complaints to us. We have nothing to do with Colonel Stuyvesant’s Magicke Colo-rectal Cleanser and Suntan Lotion. If you insist on sending us your complaints, I may have to take drastic action. Like smiling.

You wouldn’t like me when I smile.