New Toulouse

The Volstead Act went into effect on January 17, but temperance advocates complain that local enforcement of the alcoholic beverage ban has been “lackadaisical.” Meanwhile, local Carnival festivities are at an all-time low, but an anti-Prohibition parade will take place this weekend. So what does Prohibition mean for New Toulouse?

When we tracked him down at the Green-Eyed Fairy (a local tavern), police spokesman Brendan Bacon explained that local enforcement efforts were on hold because Mayor Henri Godenot is treating the responsible federal agents to a fishing trip. According to Patrolman Bacon, compliance with the law during Carnival “won’t matter much anyway” since “the feds are all tied up” (presumably figuratively). They are expected to be released on Ash Wednesday.

Francesca Alva, the owner of the Green-Eyed Fairy, seemed unfazed by the new law. “As far as I can see, Prohibition is a Yankee notion brought in to encourage people to drink more. Here in New Toulouse, we don’t have that problem. Furthermore, we do all our business with independent local suppliers. I don’t foresee any problems as long as the mayor keeps on greasing the palms of … I mean, liaising with the federal authorities.”

Mrs. Jedidiah Slump, speaking for the Ladies’ Temperance Association, argued that families continue to be “ravaged by the demon drink.” She called upon city officials to expedite local enforcement efforts and called upon Jed to get home straight after work or he could get his own damn supper.

A City Hall official, speaking anonymously because he was not authorized to give comment, explained that since New Toulouse has “a largely booze-based economy, we’re going easy on businesses” during this time of transition. He expects that Bayou will be largely exempt from scrutiny unless the feds hire some swamp-canny Cajuns.

This Saturday, February 15, at 12:00 noon SLT, Krewe Bayou kicks off another raucous walking parade downtown, the theme of which is “To Hell With Prohibition.” February 15 is also National Hippo Day, so it’s reasonable to expect some “lake cow” presence. The parade begins at the French Market.

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Jack Mondieu nominates Boudreaux and Thibodeaux to root out those Bayou moonshine stills.

If you thought you heard the patter of tiny feet around the city on Saturday, you weren’t imagining it. The Tiny Social Aid and Pleasure Club played host to the 8th Tiny Dance in aid of Relay For Life.

Twenty-five people crowded into the little club near the cemetery for two hours of dancing to the Totally Legitimate tunes of Manfred “Mani” Hancroft. A favorite Tiny slogan is “Tinies haz big funz,” and we certainly did. The joint was fairly jumping.

There was a slight moment of discomfort when Patrolman Bacon stopped by, and for a moment everyone thought it was a raid. Happily this upstanding member of New Toulouse’s finest was persuaded, in the time-honored manner (I can always set it against tax), to stay and enjoy the fun.

As reported elsewhere, we raised a staggering L$12,450 on the day, and I am delighted to report that a late donation raised that total to L$13,450.

See more pictures on page 7 by Tattler society photographer Pieni Cakefox.

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Francesca Alva’s favorite song is “Raccoon Around the Christmas Tree.” Pieni Cakefox is a well-known patron of the arts and is not safe around cake. Quiet Wonder moonlights as Big Belle Peppa with the Oh God What Is That marching band.

Late afternoon Wednesday the Big Cheese held a rally at Laveau Square, accompanied by a number of raccoons. The exact number of raccoons was impossible to determine, as they were in constant motion. I saw perhaps twenty, but people are saying there were hundreds.

The Big Cheese delivered an animated speech, at times gesticulating wildly to emphasize a point. But since no word was spoken, it is hard to say precisely what was the content of the speech. One presumes that somewhere in there was the traditional exhortation, by Carnival royalty, to attend the parade given in their honor (Samedi Gras, this Saturday) and to engage in general revelry of the season.

The raccoons cheered frequently and at times seemed to be chanting. I spotted Green-Eyed Fairy proprietress Francesca Alva nearby and decided to head to her refined establishment after the rally.

Miss Alva, who speaks Raccoon, told me that the raccoons are planning to take over New Toulouse. “They’re going to choose me as their queen,” she said. Just in case, I hurriedly paid my bar tab (leaving a nice tip, of course) and then went around town loosening trash can lids. Never let it be said that I failed to assist our possible new overlords.

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Jack Mondieu plans to stop short of obtaining two black eyes in order to better fit in.

Dear Madam,

I am sure other readers of this estimable publication were as shocked as I to learn of the untimely demise of Mayor-Elect Mr. R. E. Mains. However, let us not dwell on melancholy subjects, but reflect for a moment on what it means for our fair City. However genuine he may have been, Mr. Mains was not a native of New Toulouse. He could not possibly hope to understand what makes us “tick,” as it were. High ideals and fine ideas are all very well and good, but Taloosters live in the real world. I am afraid Mr. Mains and his “policies” were simply too rarefied for us down-to-earth and simple folk. By contrast Mayor Godenot is one of us. He is a Talooster to his fingertips. Let us not rejoice at the loss of a life, but remain conscious that Fate has thrown us a much-needed lifeline. It is time to look to the future; I look forward to Mayor Godenot’s continuing patronage of my humble establishment.

I should also like to mention, without starting any wild rumors or speculation of the kind I abhor, that the Mains family tomb appears to have been paid for by a lady whose reputation in New Toulouse is hardly of the highest. It is to be hoped that she does not lose the mausoleum in a poker game, as the new owners might well evict the sitting tenants, and we have zombies enough without adding to their number.

I remain, yours faithfully

Francesca Alva

Madam,

While I am delighted to see my fellow-citizens taking such an interest in politics, I have to question the suitability of certain of those who have put themselves forward as candidates. I find it even more shocking that they have some support in the community.

Mr Mondieu’s ability and capacity for hard work are surely in doubt, given the health problems he has suffered of late. I think we all know the cause of the problem, but this newspaper is hardly the place to indulge in speculation and idle gossip. I shall point out merely that Mr. Mondieu frequents the Green-Eyed Fairy to a point where I am considering charging him rent. As for Mr. Mains, he may well be “honest, upright and true” as an earlier correspondent claims, but does anyone know this gentleman? He seems to have arrived in town from who-knows-where, and there is little to be learned of his private life.

By contrast, Henri Godenot, the present incumbent, has a record that speaks for itself: improved roads and lighting, a ferry service, the beautification of the City Hall that has always been there, and other improvements.

Are we so quick to forget? Remembering the Mayor’s generosity, I urge you all to vote for Mayor Godenot and the Alliance Party.

Vote Godenot for the status quo!

Yours, etc.,
Francesca Alva

The freak weather conditions that hit New Toulouse last Sunday left most people unscathed. One citizen, however, is still counting the cost. Miss Frannie of the Green-Eyed Fairy had to cancel her swamp stomp with DJ Tabasco. “I’ve had to replace all my stock,” she told me. This reporter probed further and found that the losses were caused not by the weather, but instead by the owner drinking herself into a stupor to ease the pain she felt.

Luckily Taloosters are made of stern stuff, and the event is on again this Sunday between 12:00 noon and 2:00 PM. Miss Frannie was reminded that she is captain of Krewe Bayou, although she told me she has no recollection of being appointed or volunteering. It was decided to make the postponed event a Krewe Bayou Carnival kick-off event. Mardi Gras colors and mayhem are encouraged.

The Green-Eyed Fairy is located at #2 Bayou Street.

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Lou Carew loves his Mardi Gras krewe.

Dear Madam

The shipping news and Mr Mondieu’s snappy article make interesting reading, but I feel too much is being made out of this. New Toulouse has weathered many storms and our fine city has escaped largely unscathed. 

Perhaps we could focus on events in the city, such as the half-price drinks at the Green-eyed Fairy, rather than those hundreds of miles away. The storm may yet change direction or blow itself out. Even if the worst were to happen, I have full confidence that the levees will hold the water back. I am concerned to note that some citizens are piling up sandbags and feel that publications such as yours should quell, rather than incite, panic.

There will be no sandbags at the Green-eyed Fairy, situated snugly behind the levee in Rue du Bayou. Instead a warm welcome awaits. Drinks are half price during the inclement weather.

Yours, etc

Francesca Alva.

Dear Madam,

As I was wandering pensively through the cemetery, waiting for the moon to rise, I heard distant sounds of revelry. On the rooftops above Basin Street I beheld a motley, masked crew. They were dancing to the most marvelous Cajun music, provided by a gentleman I later learned was called DJ Tabasco.

Sadly I was called to Bayou on pressing business so could not join the revelers, but there is another chance to enjoy the fun, as Krewe Bayou asked Mr. Tabasco back for a repeat performance: this time at the Green-Eyed Fairy. I spoke to Miss Frannie, who runs this establishment, and she said, “We’ll be getting hot, saucy, and green at the Green-Eyed Fairy with DJ Tabasco on Sunday, 25 January 2015 at 12.00 noon, and we’ll party like it’s 1915!”

She then added, most cryptically, “Be there or be ketchup!”

Regrettably I shall again be absent on business, but I urge my fellow-citzens not to miss the party.

Yours, etc.
Lou Carew

As I was taking my customary stroll around the French Market the other day, I noticed Crawdy’s, a recently opened seafood restaurant. Feeling hungry after my walk, I decided to see what this establishment had to offer.

My first impressions were favorable—the place was clean, bright, and fresh. I sincerely hoped that this was reflected in the food. My order was taken by a somewhat vacant-looking youth, and I wondered what might turn up on my plate.

Waiting for my meal, I noticed an old copy of the Tattler. As I leafed through the classified ads, my eye was caught by a heartfelt appeal from Miss Gigi Lapin asking if anyone had found her pet crawfish, Jimbo, who had disappeared near the docks. I recalled the numerous posters I had seen around town with a picture of the missing creature.

At that moment my meal arrived, and despite the boy’s gormless appearance, my “Crawdy’s Surprise” was everything I could have hoped for. As I chewed hungrily on the tasty crawfish, my mind turned again to poor Miss Gigi and her loss. A shocking thought occurred to me, but I decided to wait until I had cleared my plate before considering it further.

After a second helping, I asked the boy where he got his supplies. Becoming suddenly shifty, he mumbled that someone called Miz Vee took care of all that. Hardly surprised that he was not the owner of the diner but “juss the mannijah,” I asked him who owned the place. He told me that he had been shucking oysters on the docks one day and watching the unloading of a freighter from San Francisco. An elderly lady was particularly anxious about some crates and shouting at the longshoremen to be careful with her merchandise. The boy could not read what was written on the sides of the crates, because it was in Chinese characters (or maybe because he couldn’t read, period), but seeing the stencil of a smoking pipe, he assumed that she was in the tobacco industry. She gave a long sigh and said that it was good to be home. Noticing the boy, she asked him what in tarnation he was doing staring at a lady, and then to his surprise offered him a job at the diner.

Who is the mysterious lady behind Crawdy’s?

What are the ingredients of “Crawdy’s Surprise”?

Will Miss Gigi and her beloved Jimbo ever be reunited?

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Francesca Alva is the proprietor of the Green-Eyed Fairy, a select establishment in the Rue du Bayou. She is entirely unconnected with Frankie’s, a miserable juke joint on the old site of the infamous Tarantula Arms.

It has been quiet in the City of late: the beloved Screaming Head which has long resided at the aptly named Severed Head public house has been silent. Wild rumors (unusual in New Toulouse) swept the city. Some suggested pirates from Winterfell or New Babbage. Others whispered darkly of sabotage and a sinister underground movement. The most chilling suggestion of all was that the Head had been lost in a Linden Rolling Restart.

It takes a lot to stir the average Talooster, especially after a heavy Friday night, but on Saturday, August 30, angry citizens finally took action and matters came to a head as a mob gathered outside the pub, demanding the return of this most iconic of artifacts.

A certain amount of confusion reigned, especially among the gentlemen present, who seemed to think they were taking part in a Lonely Hearts gathering. Mr. Aodhan of New Toulouse Bayou, wearing a fetching red beret, mentioned that he can be contacted on NT-207 (call collect if necessary). Miss Frannie Alva, who had been partaking freely of liquid refreshments, seemed a little confused too, as she was exhorting everyone to “Save da [sic] Krakens.” A laudable sentiment indeed, but given Mayor Godenot’s assertion that krakens do not exist, somewhat pointless.

Miss Maggie Hawksby, in the spirit of true comradeship, said she was only there because she loved her fellow-citizens but that she had been “about ready to put the root on that head myself.”

Miz Niki had been present at the start of the rally but disappeared about halfway through. Her place was taken by a mysterious unknown woman who bore her an uncanny resemblance.

The assembled crowd was in high spirits when Miz Salome Starsmith, proprietress of the Severed Head and present guardian of the Screaming Head, announced that the Head had been found. In a short but moving ceremony Miz Salome drew aside a dirty tarpaulin and revealed the Head.

Taloosters have endured sleepless nights of worry. Now they can once again endure sleepless nights because of the screaming coming from the Severed Head. All is well in the Big Sleazy.

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Caricia Wellesley is a native of Caledon. From time to time she breaks free of the constraints of Caledon life (and her corsets) and gets down and dirty in New Toulouse.