Langden Elenor “Don’t Call Me Jeeves” Jeeves was a great man.
Don’t Call Me Jeeves was born July 5th, 1932, he would often say how he “fought in all the wars except the first.” Little did he know there were more wars. He tragically passed in his sleep on April 29th. His last words were, “I have seen it, the light at the end of the tunnel. The things I’ve seen now, I cannot stay here, there is too much grief to come, for horrors await us. We have just begun to face our final reckoning. The great one, eldritch he may be, has blessed us with eternal sleep so we may avoid what is to come. Ammutseba, Devourer of Stars will not feast upon me! Sog-Karakal! Yog-Sothoth! Ignis nos consumit et nunc vivimus in aeternum.”
May ye rest in peace, forevermore.
We would like to formally apologize. It turns out that our esteemed leader, Horace P. Gunderblatt X has not passed to the great beyond as previously reported.
It has come to my attention that there was a momentary loss of power at the hospital which caused an unlikely short in the monitoring equipment. Due to this short, the monitors perfectly reported HPGX's death. Upon further inspection, it was discovered that he is still fighting. He has been hooked up to fresh equipment and is being monitored properly.
Unfortunately, we cannot return the rabbit we had purchased so the signup sheet in the breakroom has been adjusted and is now a voting sheet to name the rabbit. If you have any suggestions, please submit them by May 1st. At this point, we will post the selection of names on our website, allowing the general public to choose a name for our newest team member.
Once again, we apologize for the scare and will do better to collect all of the information before reporting.
Today we mourn the loss of an exceptional man and leader. Horace P. Gunderblatt X has been in a coma for the past month or two, fighting to stay alive with brief sojourns into the waking world, imparting important information, still guiding our work despite his incapacitation. Unfortunately, at 4:22 AM this morning, April 22nd, he finally slipped beyond the coma into the deep deep depths of death.
HPGX has been nothing short of a dedicated and caring leader, though somewhat fearful and prone to flights of fancy. His funeral will be held on the morrow, and all members of our humble team are expected to be in attendance. HPGX's birthday is unknown and the circumstances of his birth are even more mystifying. We approximate his age to be between 67 and 124, though we could be wrong.
In this greatly upsetting time, we have contacted a grief counselor to visit our office to offer services to any and all who need it. Unfortunately, we could not afford their rate so we bought a rabbit that has proven to be a shockingly delightful listener. If you need to visit the rabbit, we have a signup sheet in the breakroom for scheduling purposes.
You will be dearly missed, Horace.
It is with a profoundly heavy heart that we officially announce the passing of William Borden Jr.
William Borden Jr., or Little Willy, died at the age of 32 from injuries sustained at the President's Day Invitational riot. Due to the investigation process, we had been barred from making this announcement. We at Stringphone know that his death has been known or at least rumored in the month since this tragic event. Causes of his death have been widely speculated, ranging from a forklift hit-and-run to alcohol poisoning to everywhere in between. We now put these speculations to rest.
Little Willy attended this event as extra security for his father, William "Big Bill" Borden. Sometime around 2:00 pm on the day of the event, Little Willy had stepped in to stop a fight between two United Longshoremen who, presumably, did not realize they were from the same union. After quieting their squabble, Little Willy was on his way back to his post when a wayward beer bottle flew through the air, striking and loosing a storefront sign, which then collided with the support beam for the covering, causing it to collapse onto the front of a wheelbarrow at just the wrong angle, allowing the wheelbarrow to take flight and strike the passing Willy. This unfortunately random sequence of events took the life of a well loved man in our community. He will be dearly missed.
William Borden Jr. was born on August 28, 1991 and passed February 21st, 2024 at the age of 32.
Be free, Willy.
Ding-Dong the Dick is dead. Dick Dobbins was, unfortunately, a part of our community. I have never met a man more appropriately named. Knowing him was one of the greatest displeasures of my life. It is with great joy that I announce his passing. Dick plagued this earth for 54 years, dying of natural causes. Shockingly, no foul play is suspected. His funeral is scheduled for tomorrow at 8:30am, the sooner we get him in the ground the better, where he can nourish something for a change. His family is offering $100 to each of the first 30 people who show up. If you ask me, that is still not enough money.
Good riddance, Dick.
It is with an exceptionally heavy heart that I announce the passing of a local legend, Jerome "Clammy" Watson. Clammy was an honorable and vital part of our little community. As our resident hearse driver, he ferried the lost souls of those we have loved and lost to their next and final destination. It is now his turn to follow their lead. Clammy lived a remarkable 84 years, working all the way to the end. As I remember this great man, I feel compelled to share my favorite memory of Clammy. Clammy's very first drive.
At my cousin's funeral, clammy arrived with the body, stepped out, and shook my hand. The feeling of that cold perspiration will stay with me until the day I cross to the great beyond. He later confided in me how nervous he was to take on the mantle of hearse driver, that is why his hands were so sweaty, no other reason. From that moment on, he was known as Clammy. He will be dearly missed.
The day and time of his funeral is still to be determined, as there is no one to drive him to the funeral, him being the only hearse driver we had. Keep a lookout for updates so you can join us in honoring this man.
So long, Clammy.
Silence has fallen over the offices of Stringphone for the first time in easily a decade. It may have something to do with the switch to remote, asynchronous reporting and editing, but more than that, it is because Charlie is gone.
Our beloved Charlie was the first occupant of the office. We found him when we moved in back in 1993. No one knows how long he lived here before we arrived, but we always got the sense that we were working in Charlie’s home rather than him living in our place of work.
For a creature that was only supposed to live 2-3 years, Charlie’s 31+ year sojourn on this planet was legendary, as were his contributions to Stringphone in the form of scatological revisions.
We miss you, Charlie.
Old Stan Hansan has passed, the oldest and possibly strangest member of our community. His stories never failed to brighten our days and confuse our minds. Old Stan will live forever in our minds and in our hearts. Minutes before his passing, he emailed me with words of advice to share here. "When the going gets tough, it does. We either get tough and get going or get going and get tough. Either way it's tough and we are going. Going tough or tough going, only you know the answer. Will you be tough, or will you be going. Both?" Thank you Old Stan, your words will be cherished. Stan lived to an incredible 107.
His funeral will be held exactly a year to the minute of his time of death. If you know, you know. If you don't, well you have a year to figure it out. You do not want to miss what Old Stan has in store.
Farewell, Stan.
With great sadness we announce that Leonard “Hootenanny Lenny” Thomas Hoots, 42, passed away on April 14th, 2024. He was most well-known for his propensity to cheat on his loving wife with at least 2 women, Claudette “Hussy” Murphey Hinkley and Emma Marie “Whiskers” Jenkins-Kendrick. He is survived by his forever-loving wife, Marsha Lorraine Hoots, married for 5 wonderful years.
His loving wife is distraught from losing him, she often finds herself languishing at her local cafés, writing her many New York Times Bestseller winning novels. Her grief will last so long, maybe she may never love again. Oh, how could such a heart heal from such tragic betrayal, for she had been none but faithful to him.
Oh, Leonard, you will be missed.