By Alex Walsh

Welcome to SuperMixTape! Having run out of inspiration for actual content of value to contribute, I asked some of my fellow Press staffers to give me five random topics to spin together into a ‘news’ piece. The topics I was given were…
From Matt Willemain: Alberto Gonzales is the name of a former Attorney General and a New York Yankee.
From James Laudano: Crab is pluralized differently based on context.
From David K. Ginn: Phlogo, a fictional resident of pre-Christian Judea
From Iris Lin: Banana flavored things
From Jon Singer: Being fucking awesome

Next time I want topics from you, the readers. So send an e-mail with SuperMixTape in the subject line to sbpressnews@gmail.com. Then write whatever strikes your fancy in the body. I’ll have some Pressfolk pick out the best five and write about them. Get on it!
-Alex

On September 9, 1972, the CBS network aired “Ghastly Ghost Town,” the first episode of The New Scooby-Doo Movies. In each episode, Scooby and the gang teamed up with a pop culture icon to foil the wicked schemes of whatever sordid villain stood in their way. “Ghastly Ghost Town” featured the Three Stooges. Throughout the series’ run, Scooby and Shaggy would stand side by side with such luminaries as Batman, the Harlem Globetrotters, Cher, and Don Knotts. All the little kids of the early seventies thrilled to see these improbable pairings. Imagine! Batman and Scooby-Doo working together to recover the stolen Batmobile! That would be like Tiger Woods and Tony Blair teaming up to find an enchanted putter.

Sadly, cartoon crossovers seem to have fallen out of favor in modern times, so people have tragically few opportunities to see generally unrelated celebrities interacting for their amusement. (Well, except in rehab.)

That boundless desire was briefly sated last weekend by a chance encounter between Former US Attorney General Alberto Gonzales and the current New York Yankees shortstop of the same name.

The two Gonzaleses had each independently chosen to take in dinner at the Elmhurst, Queens Red Lobster. A patron, recognizing the baseballer whose admirable performance in Friday’s game was much commended, shouted into the restaurant floor “Yo, Gonzalez, you da man!” The embattled former Attorney General, mistakenly believing he was being praised, lept to the patron’s side, pen and self-portrait at the ready.

The night shift manager, John Fortstock, recognized an opportunity. “I asked both of them to sit together for a picture. Thought it would be a neat advertising gimmick.” This was to be the catalyst for a night of debate and near-tragedy. As the duo exchanged pleasantries, the former Attorney General mentioned that he had ordered “a lot of crabs.” Fortstock quickly pointed out that the proper phrasing was “a lot of crab.”

The elder Gonzales, registering his disbelief, was set straight

by the younger, who displayed a surprising knowledge of crab terminology. Quietly at first, but becoming more confident as the locals backed him up, the Yankee explained that although ‘crabs’ is a proper pluralization of the word crab when used to describe living crabs in the wild, fishers who collect them refer to their catch as ‘crab.’ Seeing that the discussion could go on for some time, Fortstock ordered servings of his new banana-flavored dessert concoction for his distinguished guests.

“I can accept that terminology for crab fishermen,” Gonzales conceded, “but we aren’t on a boat. A strict adherence to the rules of English demands the restriction of ‘crab’ usage. I refuse to accept a loose interpretation that applies it to a restaurant setting. Just as they transitioned from ‘crabs’ to ‘crab’ when they entered the trap, they revert back once they leave the boat.”

But Gonzales was not to be refuted. “Alright, so the live crabs delivered here are, in fact, ‘crabs.’ But when prepared and cooked, they become ‘crab’ once again. For example, I might say ‘This soup needs more crab.’” Before the debate could continue, the event took a drastic turn. An armed man entered the restaurant, apparently alerted by a friend with a cell phone that Alberto Gonzales was present.

The lone gunman, Barnard Hughes, shouted an incoherent phrase at the former Attorney General, then opened fire. Hughes, 34, is a follower of the Phloggites, a little-known sect of Judaism who are influenced by the writings of Phlogo of Emmaus. Phloggite doctrine holds that government officials are given their positions through the will of God. Resignation of such a position is seen as a high form of blasphemy. Hughes’ shots did not find their target, but did mildly injure Jethro Ramzab, a retired construction worker visiting from Nevada. In the confusion, Gonzales was able to hurl his dessert dish at the gunman. His strong throwing arm delivered the confection, bananas and all, to Hughes’ head, incapacitating the assailant, who was then taken into police custody.

As he was taken to Elmhurst Hospital Center, Ramzab was heard to say “That Gonzales is fucking awesome. What a throw.”