Comic genius, editor and creative force behind the Combat Zone, Stumpy Joe Dargoniw, suffered a concussion at last Sunday’s section meeting after hitting his head on an oak table. Witnesses describe the schaudenfraude as the first time anyone has ever laughed at a Combat Zone meeting. His condition has been reported as stable.
“Oh…. Oh my god. I haven’t laughed that hard since ‘Nam”, said Ford Dent, veteran Combat Zone reporter. “His forehead actually dented a solid oak table. I pissed myself laughing.”
Dargoniw, A.K.A. “Stumpy,” nicknamed for an unfortunate difference in leg lengths that tend to make him unstable, took his tumble late last Sunday night. This reporter was present and witnessed the goddamned hilarious events firsthand.
After suggesting that a reporter slighty tweak their story idea because he did not come up with it, Dargoniw tripped on a loose stack of unread editions of the Trail and slammed headfirst into the table.
We at the Trail don’t have any doctors on staff, but it was clear that he was concussed. Dargoniw kept swearing that his name was Jeff, and he had no idea how he was trapped in this story. His nonsensical ramblings provided his cohorts with endless entertainment.
“Look, I’m not saying we don’t try,” said Giles Ferguson, a reporter in attendance, “[but] we’ve never come up with anything half this funny. Seriously, instead of reading this section just get a friend or loved one to headbutt something hard. You’ll cry tears of sweet laughter.”
Each Sunday night, Combat Zone reporters meet to discuss next week’s hard work that everyone will ignore. As usual this reporter arrived right on time and with a throbbing erection. As always, there was Ferguson, snorting lines of crushed Skittles on the table; Edward Sizzurphands and Ford were in their typical places, swapping old war stories; and the rest of our merry misfit band filed in, ready to leave before they sat down.
Stumpy brought the meeting to order and assignments for the week were dispensed. Nothing interesting or funny happened for the next eight minutes.
“I had totally zoned out from the boredom,” said Sizzurphands. “I was imaging what Giles’ [Ferguson} spleen would taste like, when BAM, it happened.”
Upon the tragically comedic occurrence, the room broke into unending laughter. Nothing so funny had ever before come of the comedic laboratory that is the Combat Zone.
“I like to think he was laughing along with us, but he may have been requesting medical attention,” said Sizzurphands.
Because it is difficult to understand someone who is choking on their tongue, it took over an hour for medics to be summoned.
As of Thursday night Dargoniw is in stable condition somewhere in Puyallup. Due to his mangled and otherwise hairy face, he is said to be recognizable only by his Technicolor fanny pack. Though Dargoniw attempted to provide his side of the events, the Trail does not employ any staff fluent in Concussion, so his “words” will not be printed here.
PHOTOS COURTESY/PETRA WHEELS
