UPDATE: I've now been told this is a fake. Which is a shame. But it was still fun to read.
Found this on Facebook today, and it's a treasure.
It's the movie prop that keeps on giving. A lot of work went into it -- for something that was onscreen for about a second (okay about five seconds), in an era where very few people had the option to stop, rewind, and freeze frame.
If you look closely, the copy along with the headline "Ghost Fever Grips New York" is extracted from some dull article on the economy.
Looking at the second headline, "EPA Try to Shut Down Local Ghost Disposal Business," you get treated to an actual article featuring quotes from Walter Peck and others in the film.
The first few paragraphs:
Citing unsafe practices and potential toxic accumulation, the Environmental Protection Agency shut down a small ghost-entrapment operation in downtown Manhattan today, and had four of the business spectral entertainment specialists arrested in the process.
According to EPA agent Walter Peck, employees of the company – located in an old fire station in the Tribeca neighborhood of New York – had repeatedly refused to grant him access to their storage facility, which posed a health hazard to the surrounding community.
“The facility in question unlawfully used public utilities for the purpose of non-sanctioned waste-handling and was in direct violation of the Environmental Protection Act,” Peck said.
“Additionally, the company powered several unlicensed portable nuclear accelerators that were flagrantly discharged within mere feet of citizens.”
It goes on to quote Consolidated Edison technician Brian Holmes, so this guy has a name:
There's also this little gem, which has a guess that isn't far off from their actual box office of $282 million.
This really is the gift that keeps on giving.
And lest you think they left anything out, behold the story's final paragraph:
At press time, representatives from the firm were meeting with New York Mayor Lenny Cloch to discuss the growing spectral plague, despite fierce protests from Agent Peck. The talks have reportedly not proceeded beyond an animated debate over whether or not Peck has a p****.
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Christmas Box Miracle, The; by Richard Paul Evans. 261 pages.
Morbid Tase for Bones, A; by Ellis Peters. 265 pages.
Peanuts by the Decade, the 1970s; by Charles Schulz. 490 pages
Rakkety Tam, by Brian Jacques. 372 pages.
Rickover Effect, The, by Theodore Rockwell. 411 pages.
Road to Freedom, The; by Shawn Pollock. 212 pages.
There's Treasure Everywhere, by Bill Watterson. 173 pages.
Trolls of Wall Street, The; by Nathaniel Popper, 339 pages.
Undaunted Courage, by Stephen E. Ambrose. 521 pages.
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Diary of A Wimpy Kid Hot Mess, by Jeff Kinney. 217 pages.
Ze Page Total: 217.
The Best Part
Catch You Later, Traitor, by Avi
“Pete,” said Mr. Ordson, “we live in a time of great mistrust. This is not always a bad thing. People should question things. However, in my experience, too much suspicion undermines reason.”
I shook my head, only to remember he couldn’t see me.
“There’s a big difference,” he went on, “between suspicion and paranoia.”
“What’s . . . paranoia?”
“An unreasonable beliefe that you are being persecuted. For example,” Mr. Ordson went on,” I’m willing to guess you’ve even considered me to be the informer. After all, you told me you were going to follow your father. Perhaps I told the FBI.”
Startled, I stared at him. His blank eyes showed nothing. Neither did his expression. It was as if he had his mask on again.
“Have you considered that?” he pushed.
“No,” I said. But his question made me realize how much I’d shared with him. Trusted him. How he’d become my only friend. And he was the only one I hoad told I was going to follow my dad. Maybe he did tell the FBI.
He said, “I hope you get my point.”
Silcence settled around us. Loki looked around, puzzled.
Mr. Ordson must have sensed what I was thinking because he said, “Now, Pete, you don’t really have any qualms about me, do you?”
Yes, perlious times then. Who to trust? And perlious times now, with paranoia running even deeper than during the Red Scare . . .
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