The Selby-Dale "Kickers for Christ" with Jimmy Krakhorn playing the drum
(Wilmar Kids with nothing to do for the summer marching band)DEATH TAKES A HOLIDAY AT THE FAIR...NOT!
Up to par as usual, the 2009 Minnesota State fair has claimed several lives within hours of it's opening. "At least it was better than last year" said fair spokesperson Amanda Hugnkiss of Ely, Minnesota. "According to our records we had some one killed within the first several minutes last year, this year the fair commenced rather peacefully, and the first death did not occur until 54 minutes into the fair."
The first casualty of the fair this year was James Rippafart of Welcome, Minnesota. Apparently James arrived later than he planned to the opening of the fair, and as he wrestled with other fairgoers at the entrance turnstiles, he pushed little Jerry Girkekleinski (from Anoka, Minnesota) into a trash bin, as he squeezed past the small boy. Father of the child Raymond Girkekleinski grabbed Rippafart's shirt collar and attempted to pull him back, however the shirt gave way and Rippafart disappeared into the crowd. Girkekleinski still had the collar of Rippafarts shirt and vowed he would locate the "Motherf***ing Son of a Bitch" once inside. It didn't take long as Girkekleinski spotted Rippafart at "Ole & Lena's Norwegian Delights" scarfing down an "Uff Da Treat". Girkekleinski Grabbed Rippafart and slammed his head into the counter top spraying Krumkake and Hot pecans all over Rippafart. Rippafart then dashed into the street, half blinded with whipped cream from the former treat and right into the oncoming "WKWNTDFTSMB (Wilmar Kids with nothing to do for the summer marching band) parade. Rippafart was pushed down by several of the Wilmar-ites, and trampled mercilessly beneath their feat. Band leader William Morspersen Hollered "Keep Moving...for the LOVE OF GOD, Keep Moving!, and Rippafart was trampelled, drug and kicked to the end of Liggett Ave, at which point the nameless tuba player for the band blasted a shrill note at point blank range in Rippafart's ear, causing his eardrums to explode. Rippafart wandered aimlessly out of the street and into the path of a heard of sheep en route to the sheep barn where he was trampled yet again, and urinated on by two small boys controlling the flock. Dazed and confused, Rippafart stumbled aimlessly into what he thought was a phone booth, but was actually an automated corn shelling machine, and was ripped to pieces and sprayed into a bin in front of many onlookers. One girl cried out "COOOOOOL!"
Several Hours later tragedy struck again, only this time at the opposite end of the fair, as the usual misunderstanding of a situation was illustrated...again. Norman Pankraky (86), of Blaine, Minnesota was peacefully sitting on a bench resting when he heard what he thought were the marching steps of Nazi Storm Troopers. In a knee-jerk reaction, he lept to his feet and startled hurling stones at the source of the noise. It turned out to be the "Selby-Dale Kickers for Christ" who were turning the corner onto Dan Patch Ave. Several of the stones struck the "Kickers" who all just happened to be black, and they assumed that a race riot had begun. Pankraky shouted "NEGROES! NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGROOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEES!"and continued throwing stones. One of the small "Kickers" Little Jimmy Krakhorn, was struck with one of the stones and blurted "OH No YOU Did'and!" and raced towards Pankraky and smashed a drum over his head, kicked him in the scrotum and and pulled out a knife screaming "I POKE YOU! I poke you!" and was then wrestled to the ground by two visiting Caputian Monks dressed in white robes. "KLANSMEN! cried Tyrone Jackson of the "Kickers for Christ" and needless to say...All Hell broke loose. "I sees 'dis guy in white grab Jimmy, and so I knows he's gonna kill him, so I pulls out my blade and stick him!" said Jackson. Within Minutes the crowd of fair goers were all ablaze with hate for either Monks, Kickers, retirees, war veterans, or hog farmers. The State fair police were called in two break up the ruckus, but were viewed once again as a threat to the "kickers" which was the equivalent of adding gasoline to an already out of control fire. A small girl was standing by when a man's head landed at her feet, toungue clicking trying to vocalize a phrase when she kicked it like a soccer ball into the lap of 64 year old Ida Brezinski of New Ulm , Minnesota, who had a stroke and dropped on the spot.
After approximately 20 minutes of mayhem the crowd started settling down. Tyrone Jackson, now missing an arm, shouted "Jimmy Krakhorn, Jimmy Krackhorn" while desperately looking for the boy "Where is Jimmy Krakhorn?. When Norman Pankraky yelled "I don't care!"; which instantly was heard by several "Kickers for Christ" as a racial slur in an old slave song; and the whole event rekindled moments later. Seeing that the police and fair officials were having no effect on the crowd. Peter Fromquist of Zumbrota Minnesota, pushed over a large barrel of root beer from a nearby vending stand dowsing the crowd with the sticky liquid and washing several people off their feet, and one man square into a lamppost, cracking open his skull and killing him. Fromquist jumped up on a nearby garbage bin and started screaming "ZUMBROTA! ZUMBROTA!", which many people took as some type of war cry and started pelting him with food. With all of the attention now focussed on Fromquist, the riot dispersed and turned from a squealing mass of hate to the world's largest Mosh pit, carrying Fromquist above their heads and hurling him out of the fairgrounds and onto nearby Como avenue, where he was amazingly not hit by a car...but rather by an amateur clown on a bike selling whirly-gigs, of which one pierced Fromquist's spleen and killing him.
See what you missed at the fair today!
The first casualty of the fair this year was James Rippafart of Welcome, Minnesota. Apparently James arrived later than he planned to the opening of the fair, and as he wrestled with other fairgoers at the entrance turnstiles, he pushed little Jerry Girkekleinski (from Anoka, Minnesota) into a trash bin, as he squeezed past the small boy. Father of the child Raymond Girkekleinski grabbed Rippafart's shirt collar and attempted to pull him back, however the shirt gave way and Rippafart disappeared into the crowd. Girkekleinski still had the collar of Rippafarts shirt and vowed he would locate the "Motherf***ing Son of a Bitch" once inside. It didn't take long as Girkekleinski spotted Rippafart at "Ole & Lena's Norwegian Delights" scarfing down an "Uff Da Treat". Girkekleinski Grabbed Rippafart and slammed his head into the counter top spraying Krumkake and Hot pecans all over Rippafart. Rippafart then dashed into the street, half blinded with whipped cream from the former treat and right into the oncoming "WKWNTDFTSMB (Wilmar Kids with nothing to do for the summer marching band) parade. Rippafart was pushed down by several of the Wilmar-ites, and trampled mercilessly beneath their feat. Band leader William Morspersen Hollered "Keep Moving...for the LOVE OF GOD, Keep Moving!, and Rippafart was trampelled, drug and kicked to the end of Liggett Ave, at which point the nameless tuba player for the band blasted a shrill note at point blank range in Rippafart's ear, causing his eardrums to explode. Rippafart wandered aimlessly out of the street and into the path of a heard of sheep en route to the sheep barn where he was trampled yet again, and urinated on by two small boys controlling the flock. Dazed and confused, Rippafart stumbled aimlessly into what he thought was a phone booth, but was actually an automated corn shelling machine, and was ripped to pieces and sprayed into a bin in front of many onlookers. One girl cried out "COOOOOOL!"
Several Hours later tragedy struck again, only this time at the opposite end of the fair, as the usual misunderstanding of a situation was illustrated...again. Norman Pankraky (86), of Blaine, Minnesota was peacefully sitting on a bench resting when he heard what he thought were the marching steps of Nazi Storm Troopers. In a knee-jerk reaction, he lept to his feet and startled hurling stones at the source of the noise. It turned out to be the "Selby-Dale Kickers for Christ" who were turning the corner onto Dan Patch Ave. Several of the stones struck the "Kickers" who all just happened to be black, and they assumed that a race riot had begun. Pankraky shouted "NEGROES! NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGROOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEES!"and continued throwing stones. One of the small "Kickers" Little Jimmy Krakhorn, was struck with one of the stones and blurted "OH No YOU Did'and!" and raced towards Pankraky and smashed a drum over his head, kicked him in the scrotum and and pulled out a knife screaming "I POKE YOU! I poke you!" and was then wrestled to the ground by two visiting Caputian Monks dressed in white robes. "KLANSMEN! cried Tyrone Jackson of the "Kickers for Christ" and needless to say...All Hell broke loose. "I sees 'dis guy in white grab Jimmy, and so I knows he's gonna kill him, so I pulls out my blade and stick him!" said Jackson. Within Minutes the crowd of fair goers were all ablaze with hate for either Monks, Kickers, retirees, war veterans, or hog farmers. The State fair police were called in two break up the ruckus, but were viewed once again as a threat to the "kickers" which was the equivalent of adding gasoline to an already out of control fire. A small girl was standing by when a man's head landed at her feet, toungue clicking trying to vocalize a phrase when she kicked it like a soccer ball into the lap of 64 year old Ida Brezinski of New Ulm , Minnesota, who had a stroke and dropped on the spot.
After approximately 20 minutes of mayhem the crowd started settling down. Tyrone Jackson, now missing an arm, shouted "Jimmy Krakhorn, Jimmy Krackhorn" while desperately looking for the boy "Where is Jimmy Krakhorn?. When Norman Pankraky yelled "I don't care!"; which instantly was heard by several "Kickers for Christ" as a racial slur in an old slave song; and the whole event rekindled moments later. Seeing that the police and fair officials were having no effect on the crowd. Peter Fromquist of Zumbrota Minnesota, pushed over a large barrel of root beer from a nearby vending stand dowsing the crowd with the sticky liquid and washing several people off their feet, and one man square into a lamppost, cracking open his skull and killing him. Fromquist jumped up on a nearby garbage bin and started screaming "ZUMBROTA! ZUMBROTA!", which many people took as some type of war cry and started pelting him with food. With all of the attention now focussed on Fromquist, the riot dispersed and turned from a squealing mass of hate to the world's largest Mosh pit, carrying Fromquist above their heads and hurling him out of the fairgrounds and onto nearby Como avenue, where he was amazingly not hit by a car...but rather by an amateur clown on a bike selling whirly-gigs, of which one pierced Fromquist's spleen and killing him.
See what you missed at the fair today!
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