Vol. I: Issue 039                                                                                             September 18th, 2026

Breaking news out of Oniontown, where an unexpected press conference at Heaps Point may have just turned the Thrasher’s Heap story into something much bigger.

Infamous Oniontown attorney Ty Quilton stepped before reporters today claiming to represent what he called the “Sovereign Nation of Thrasher’s Heap.” Yes, you heard that correctly. According to Quilton, the people living within the Heap are now formally demanding recognition as an independent nation.

Quilton had this to say:

“After decades of peaceful living within Thrasher’s Heap, my clients’ privacy and way of life have been shattered by reckless reports accusing them of criminal activity. Their land has been invaded by outsiders who seem determined to interfere with a community they neither understand nor respect.

My client, the Sovereign Nation of Thrasher’s Heap, is demanding that the Continental Concordia recognize what its people have known for years: they govern themselves, they answer to themselves, and they will not be ruled by outsiders.

We expect the Concordia to address this matter appropriately. Until then, access to Thrasher’s Heap through the QuickSkip network will be suspended. The tunnel is being powered down. Thank you.”

And with that, Quilton walked away without taking questions.

It is a Gurth-shaking declaration, and one that comes shortly after NowTime’s own Shannon pulled back the curtain on the secretive community through her ongoing investigation inside Thrasher’s Heap. Her gonzo approach to story chasing revealed a functioning settlement hidden behind the Heap’s gates and brought unprecedented attention to a place that had spent years avoiding it.

Now that attention appears to have triggered an even bigger question: What exactly is Thrasher’s Heap, and does it have any legitimate claim to independence?

For the moment, the QuickSkip Tunnel is offline, the self-declared nation is closing itself off, and the Continental Concordia suddenly has a territorial question on its hands that nobody was expecting.

I’ll be following the response from Concordian officials and what this means for access to Thrasher’s Heap, because Duke’s Gotcha covered!

 

Hiya friends!

I spent the last few days in Portallini for the Sugarplex Filmfest, and even though Finley had to bow out at the last minute, my pal Pax was nice enough to come along instead. We had such a great time, and the weather could not have been much nicer for hopping around between screenings.

Unfortunately, Portallini is trading that lovely recent weather for something a little soggier to start this seven day stretch.

We’ve got a cool, rainy stretch settling in through the first few days, with plenty of clouds, drizzle, and a bit of that breezy waterfront chill. The good news is things gradually start drying out after that, and by the second half of the week we get more sunshine, milder afternoons, and some really pleasant early-fall weather.

So keep the umbrella and a light jacket handy at first, then get ready for a much prettier finish to the week over in Portallini.

 

The Mumph here, and before I get into baseball, I want to send some good vibes out to Snapdragon Snarl after that nasty ankle fracture on live TV Monday night. I had the pleasure of meeting Snarl and his partner Scratch backstage at W8W back in January, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. Tough guy, good guy, and one heck of an athlete. Here’s hoping for a smooth recovery and a quick return of the Snapdragons. The ring is a little quieter without ’em.

Alright, onto the diamond, where the Calypso Island Coconuts got themselves rolling against the New Pepperton Percolators.

This one stayed quiet early, then both clubs traded runs in the fourth. After that, Calypso started chipping away, one in the fifth, another in the sixth, then boom, three more in the eighth to break the whole thing open. New Pepperton tried to make some noise with two in the ninth, but by then the Coconuts had built themselves too much cushion.

Crankshaw gets the MVP on the mound. He kept the Percolators quiet through the middle innings and never let that fourth-inning run turn into anything bigger. When your offense is slowly stacking runs, that is exactly what you want from your pitcher, keep everybody calm and keep handing the bats another inning to work with.

Final score, Calypso Island Coconuts 6, New Pepperton Percolators 3. Winner, Calypso Island. MVP, Crankshaw.

My two cents, Calypso did not need one giant inning to take control. They just kept adding pressure until New Pepperton finally cracked, and that three-run eighth put the lid on it.

 

Hello out there…

Well, it looks like I got Thrasher’s Heap’s attention.

I cannot say I am thrilled, but I am hardly surprised to see Ty Quilton stepping forward as their representative. If a legal mess involves people avoiding uncomfortable questions, Ty rarely seems far away.

Now Thrasher’s Heap is declaring itself a sovereign nation and pushing to separate from the Continental Concordia. The obvious benefit is legal protection. If the Heap can place itself outside Concordian authority, questions about regulations, investigations, and financial dealings become much harder to pursue.

But after what I saw undercover, I suspect there is another piece to this.

Oil.

Those pumpjacks and that refinery were not decoration. Thrasher’s Heap appears to be sitting on a substantial reserve, and they have clearly been extracting and refining it for some time. Where that fuel ends up is a question I very much intend to pursue.

More concerning is the shutdown of the Quickskip tunnel. That tunnel carries Oniontown’s waste to the Heap. Stop the flow, and garbage starts piling up quickly. To me, that looks less like a protest and more like leverage.

After spending months asking what was happening on Thrasher’s Heap, one thing is finally clear.

They know we are watching now.

I’ll keep digging. Judging by those pumpjacks, Thrasher’s Heap will too.

And that’s The Scoop.

 

Vol. I: Issue 038                                                                                             September 11th, 2026

Breaking news from the skies above the Gurth, where Meelie’s Comet is making its long-awaited return.

Starting this week, skywatchers will want to look up after dark for a glimpse of one of the most majestic sights in the night sky. Meelie’s Comet only makes its rounds roughly once every 16 and a half years, and when it appears, it does not arrive quietly. That pale pink tail stretching across the stars has already become the talk of observatories, rooftops, and backyard telescopes across the continent.

And over in Toastwood, the timing could not be better. Comet Con is underway, bringing together sci-fi fans, creators, cosplayers, collectors, and curious minds from all across the Gurth. You can definitely expect that this year’s convention will have plenty of attention on Meelie’s Comet.

Now here is the part that may surprise you. For all that beauty in the sky, the solid nucleus of Meelie’s Comet is only about 300 feet across. That is small by cosmic standards. But as the comet warms near the sun, it throws off gas and dust, creating a glowing coma tens of thousands of miles wide and a pale pink tail that can reach hundreds of thousands of miles into space.

In other words, the object itself is small, but the show it puts on is anything but.

Scientists at Gigaloaf Labs say viewers should make the most of this visit, because Meelie’s future path may not stay familiar for long. Their projections suggest the comet may have only one more return before a close approach to Grummel, the largest planet in our solar system, changes everything.

Grummel’s powerful gravitational pull could tug Meelie’s Comet off its usual course, slingshotting it away from the inner solar system and sending it toward unknown regions of deep space. If that happens, future generations may know Meelie’s Comet not as a regular visitor, but as a traveler that passed through our skies for one final farewell.

So take the time to look up. Whether you are joining the crowds at Comet Con in Toastwood or stepping outside for a quiet view of the stars, this is a sight worth catching while we still can. I’ll be tracking the latest viewing windows, scientific updates, and any new details from Gigaloaf Labs, because Duke’s Gotcha covered!

Well, I am very excited for this weekend because I’ll be seeing Finley for the first time in several weeks! The Cowfish are headed to The Sourdome for an exhibition game against the Bulbdogs, and you better believe I’ll be there cheering them on. The game was originally supposed to be played on Calypso Island, but with the CFL and the island still trying to settle on a final location for their new stadium, Oniontown gets the honors instead. Which, selfishly, makes getting there a whole lot easier for me. So… GO COWFISH!!

Speaking of Calypso Island, let’s take a peek at what Finley is leaving behind weather-wise this week.

Friday is looking like a soggy one, with rain hanging around for much of the day, but the weekend dries out nicely with plenty of sunshine and very little breeze. That calm air does mean the no-see-ums could be extra pesky around dawn and dusk, so keep that bug spray handy! After that, the island settles back into its usual tropical groove, with warm, muggy days, a few breezier stretches, and some passing showers mixed in with all that sunshine.

So after a rainy start, Calypso Island should bounce back into a pretty classic stretch of late-season island weather.

 

The Mumph here, and I do love me some preseason football, so you know I’ll be watching that Cowfish game this weekend. The whole sports world wants a look at this squad, and I am right there with them.

But CFL exhibition games are going to be few and far between for a bit, because the 2026/2027 season is still about sixteen weeks out. So enjoy the taste, folks, then pack your patience.

With that being said, let’s switch the focus back to baseball, where the CMLB season is nearly halfway through already. Can you believe that? Feels like Opening Day was yesterday, and now we are out here checking records and watching teams start to show us who they really are.

Starlight City and Oilseed Springs gave us a tight one. The Roosters struck first with two runs in the second, and for a couple innings, that lead looked pretty sturdy. But the Buffaloes answered in the fourth with two of their own, then came right back in the fifth and put up two more. That was the turn. From there, Starlight City held the line.

MVP goes to Roquert behind the plate, and I love seeing a catcher get his due. That is the control room of the whole ballgame. Roquert kept Averton settled after the early trouble, managed the rhythm, guided the defense, and helped shut Oilseed Springs down the rest of the way. The Roosters got those two in the second, then nothing but zeroes.

Final score, Starlight City Buffaloes 4, Oilseed Springs Roosters 2. Winner, Starlight City. MVP, Roquert.

My two cents, when your catcher helps turn an early 2 to 0 hole into seven straight scoreless innings for the other side, that is not background work. That is winning baseball.

 

Hello out there…

Another week, another chapter in my journey into the heart of Thrasher’s Heap.

Last time, I left you with Screwnut Shane squeezing through a damaged metal gate and stepping into the real Thrasher’s Heap. What I found on the other side was not a landfill… It was a town.

A dark, dirty, bustling town that seemed to come alive almost entirely at night. The buildings, if you could call them that, were pieced together from cinder blocks, corrugated metal, old shipping containers, and whatever else could be welded into four walls and a roof. Saloons and makeshift market stalls crowded the streets, all woven around a low-lying oil refinery at the center of town. Pipes burst from the ground in every direction. Smoke rolled overhead. Every so often, a tower would cough a flame into the night.

Pumpjacks were scattered everywhere, bobbing up and down completely out of sync with one another. And the smell? Imagine a campfire burning inside a tire shop.

The locals were not exactly welcoming either. Leather, chains, patched-up jackets, grease-covered clothes. Half the population looked like they had wandered off the set of a Motorworld Mayhem movie and never bothered going home. Motorcycles seemed to be the preferred form of transportation, and their engines kept a constant low thunder rolling between the buildings.

Thankfully, Deuce’s disguise was doing its job. With darkness on my side, I pushed farther into town. And the deeper I went, the stranger the place became, because beneath all that scrap metal and smoke, Thrasher’s Heap had many of the same things any other town has. Shops. Restaurants. Banks. Just… you know… “Heapish” versions of them.

And then I saw a sign that nearly stopped me in my tracks: Mortadello’s Meat Pies. Apparently, I was a little premature when I reported that the last location had closed. I slipped inside, and there, standing behind the counter taking orders, was none other than Guy Mortadello himself. The same Guy Mortadello I have been trying to locate for nearly three years. So, for anyone following my recent investigation, I suppose we can officially retire “Where in the World is Guy Mortadello?” He is on Thrasher’s Heap! And he was not alone. Working the ovens was a boxy, rust-covered robot that looked nothing like our familiar BotWursts. This thing looked like it ran on diesel and had misplaced its muffler sometime during the previous century.

As much as I wanted to stay and ask Guy about three years’ worth of unanswered questions, blowing my cover over a meat pie seemed like a poor way to end the investigation. So I kept moving. That was when I started noticing the ATMs. They were everywhere. Except they weren’t called ATMs… They were NuTMs. Yes. Nu.

From what I could gather, much of Thrasher’s Heap’s financial system appears to revolve around NuCash, along with those dreadful NuMarcus NFTs. After all the shell companies, Heaps Point excursions, and paper trails, suddenly finding NuMarcus’s fingerprints all over an off-the-books settlement on Thrasher’s Heap felt less like a coincidence and more like the beginning of an answer.

Then I turned down an alley that was awash in murky-red light. The light came from a massive neon sign hanging over another ramshackle building that read: “λλB5: Hack and Mash Cafe”.

Next to the name was a chibi-style caricature of someone who looked suspiciously like Mathony B. Sneffary slurping a bowl of ramen. I even overheard someone leaving the place refer to it as “M-B-S,” so perhaps that’s how the Thrasher’s pronounce λλB5. Your guess is as good as mine.

I was raising my camera to get a picture when a large biker woman approached me. She wore a battered, black-leather cap with a rusted sheriff-style star pinned to the front.

She grabbed my camera.

“Hmm. Whatcha got there?” she asked. Then she looked me over. “Can’t say I’ve seen you around these streets before. Mind showin’ me your tags?”

My mind had several excellent answers prepared. Unfortunately, none of them reached my mouth. But then, somewhere behind us, two men started fighting. For once, Thrasher’s Heap’s apparent lack of civic order worked in my favor. She turned toward the commotion, and I ran.

Through the twisting streets, back through that bent gate, and eventually underneath another lumbering garbage truck for what I sincerely hope was my final ride beneath a moving vehicle.

I lost my camera, but I did manage to snap one blurry photograph with my phone while making my escape. Not exactly award-winning journalism, but enough to prove I was there.

So let me say this directly to my readers, and to any Oniontown officials who may be reading.

Thrasher’s Heap is not simply an offshore landfill.

There is a functioning settlement out there. I personally witnessed businesses, an oil operation, a financial system tied to NuMarcus, a reinvigorated Guy Mortadello, guards, and people who very clearly do not expect outsiders wandering through with cameras.

I am not claiming to know who controls it, how long it has been there, or exactly what laws are being broken. Those are questions for a proper investigation.

And there needs to be one.

Not another boilerplate statement. Not another explanation about methane lights or discarded fireworks. A lawful, transparent investigation into what is happening on Thrasher’s Heap and who has been allowed to operate there unchecked.

I went looking for answers… I came back with considerably more questions.

And that’s The Scoop.

 

Vol. I: Issue 037                                                                                             September 4th, 2026

Breaking news out of San Fresco, where the great galleons are rolling into port and Pirate Bash is officially taking over the Wharf.

Locals are already gathering along the docks as those towering ships make their arrival, bringing with them the music, flags, costumes, and salty spectacle that make this one of San Fresco’s biggest holiday traditions. Expect crowded boardwalks, packed shops, and more than a few eye patches before the week is through.

Papa’s Paleteria is joining the celebration with a lineup of festive specials, including the return of a fan favorite: The Seadragon. This chilly treasure features a blend of Sunken Treasure Custard, dragon fruit chunks, and a dip in Maelstrom Swirl. If you are heading down to the Wharf, that one may be worth keeping an eye out for.

And that is not the only sight to see. A new piece from the elusive street artist RypToe appeared two nights ago, adding another surprise attraction to an already busy stretch of coastline.

Tourism officials are expecting a major influx of visitors throughout the holiday season, and ride tickets are already moving quickly. For the next month, the famed pirate ship Fortune’s Escape will be setting sail every evening for sunset cruises, giving guests a chance to take in San Fresco from the water as the festival lights come alive along the shore.

So if Pirate Bash is on your calendar, plan ahead, reserve early, and leave yourself plenty of time to take it all in. From crowded docks to sold-out sails, I’ll be tracking the holiday rush in San Fresco, because Duke’s Gotcha covered!

Hiya friends!

Whew, last week was certainly a busy one, and with everything going on, it just did not feel like the right time to mention this. But over the weekend, Tastyville held its annual Taste of the Future, and per The Mumph’s suggestion, I actually entered my cookies into the cooking competition!

Of course, they needed a name, so I went with JamBones. They’re shaped like little bones, have a layer of jam inside, and were inspired by some of Hambone’s very favorite flavors. Alright, everybody take a deep breath, because the results are in…

JamBones won FIRST PLACE in the Sweet Snack category!!!

Can you believe it?! Oh my gosh, I am still just a ball of excitement over here. Me! Winning a cooking competition! I feel like someone should probably double-check the results just to be safe.

Ok, let me gather myself and move onto the task at hand, Powder Point’s seven day forecast.

Over in Powder Point, we’ve got a warm and somewhat muggy start to the week, with a few scattered showers and thunderstorms popping up through the weekend. A front moving through brings a cooler little change afterward, and then things settle into a really pleasant stretch with more sunshine, lower humidity, and comfortable temperatures as the week rolls along.

So keep an umbrella nearby for those early storm chances, then get ready for a much calmer and comfier stretch over in Powder Point.

 

The Mumph here, and first off, big congratulations to Zepha Ray on that win. JamBones, I like it. Great name, great snack, great victory. Please tell me you are bringing more into the newsroom, because Hambone is going to hear about it and demand his share.

And speaking of winners, the Whiskview Black Birds had themselves quite a ballgame…

This one took a minute to wake up, but once Whiskview found the bats, they found them in bunches. The Black Birds scratched one across in the third, then broke it open with three in the fifth and two more in the sixth. That gave them a 6 to 0 lead before Powder Point finally got moving late.

Give the Woollies credit, they did not pack it in. They put up one in the seventh and two more in the eighth, just enough to make Whiskview tighten the gloves and pay attention. But the Black Birds had already done the heavy lifting, and Viennot helped make sure that late push stayed manageable.

MVP goes to Viennot out in center field. Center field is where rallies go to either breathe or die, and Viennot kept covering ground, cutting off trouble, and giving Whiskview that steady middle-of-the-diamond presence you need when a lead starts feeling a little less comfortable.

Final score, Whiskview Black Birds 6, Powder Point Woollies 3. Winner, Whiskview. MVP, Viennot.

My two cents, when you build a lead in the middle innings and survive the late punch, that is winning baseball. Not always pretty, but it gets you back to the dugout smiling.

 

Hello out there…

I am back, safe and sound, in the NowTime newsroom.

First, thank you for your patience, and for the concern many of you expressed, while I disappeared for nearly four weeks. I apologize for all the cloak-and-dagger secrecy, but where I was going, and what I was attempting to do there, left very little room for a compromised plan.

And now I can finally tell you where I have been… Thrasher’s Heap!

I saw more during those weeks than I could possibly squeeze into a single edition of this Newsletter, so we are going to have to take this one piece at a time. And the best place to start is at the beginning, with a very large makeup kit and a man named Screwnut Shane.

Before going anywhere near the Heap, I enlisted the considerable talents of Deuce Gotcha to build me a disguise convincing enough to survive close inspection. By the time he was finished, Shannon had effectively disappeared and Screwnut Shane was staring back from the mirror.

Step one was getting inside Dumplink Inc., the waste management company responsible for hauling Oniontown’s garbage out to Thrasher’s Heap. My thinking was simple. If I could get hired onto a garbage crew, sooner or later the trash would take me exactly where I wanted to go.

So I applied, and they hired me almost immediately.

For the next two weeks, Screwnut Shane worked as an entry-level loader, riding the back of a garbage truck and hauling bags, bins, and busted furniture from the residential streets of Oniontown. Let me tell you, that job is no picnic. I came away with a new respect for the people who do it every day, and several smells I am still trying to get out of my hair.

By week three, I managed to finagle a promotion to “road assistant.” Unlike my collection route, this crew rode with the loaded trucks through the Quickskip tunnel to Thrasher’s Heap. Finally, I had a legitimate way in.

Seeing the place up close was eye-opening. Nose-closing too.

Each trip followed essentially the same route: a two-and-a-half-mile dirt road cutting straight through towering walls of compacted scrap. From the cab, there was remarkably little to see. Almost suspiciously little. But every quarter mile or so, we would pass sheet-metal gates leading deeper into other sections of the island. Some were guarded. Others were not.

Then there was one particular gate. I noticed it on every trip. It had taken enough abuse over the years that the two metal halves no longer met cleanly in the middle. There was a narrow opening between them. Not much of one. But enough.

By the end of that week, I made my move. After my shift, I stayed hidden near the truck lot until the night crews began rolling out. Then I hitched a decidedly unauthorized ride beneath one of the trucks headed for the Heap. I am going to interrupt my own story here to say this very clearly: do not try that. One pothole nearly ended this investigation, and possibly your reporter too.

But I knew the route by then. I knew the timing. And when my ride approached that damaged gate, I released myself, hit the dusty road, and watched the truck continue without me.

For the first time, I was alone on Thrasher’s Heap. Under the cover of darkness, I crossed the road, squeezed through that narrow opening in the metal gates, and stepped into the hidden world of Thrasher’s Heap. Unfortunately, we’ll have to continue on with the story next week.

And that’s The Scoop.