Citizens of the Jolly Green Valley in Minnesota woke up to find a gigantic green foot floating in the Jolly Green River, severed at the ankle. It took five tow trucks to haul it to shore. “Dead weight,” the Police Chief of Jolly Green Valley sighed.

Residents of the area were worried that their Green Giant was the victim of The Advertising Icon serial killer. “Well,” said Police Chief Ernie Apwine, “if the ankle does belong to our giant, it would appear that he was, at the very least, tortured. At the worst? He was killed and dismembered. But I can’t say there’s a serial killer…”

“It’s the Icon Killer,” chimed in Mayor Theodore Spitz. “The serial killer through-line has all been below the radar except for law enforcement Intel but, in the last three years or so, someone has been stalking and either eliminating or attempting to eliminate American Advertising Icons.

“Tony the Tiger was the first target. Some guy in a ninja outfit showed up with a flame-thrower. Tony, being the pro he is, shouted at him to stop. That booming voice confused the assassin enough so that Tony could easily disembowel him. But, that was just the first incident.”


The Mayor was on a roll. “We’re not sure who’s been eliminated and who hasn’t. Next time you see a commercial with the Keebler elves? See if they’re all still there and not some stand-ins. Charlie the Tuna is back, now, after ten years but…is it really Charlie? I’m thinking, there’s a deep state plot to take American icons out of the picture and substitute shoddy replacements that will guide their fans into making bad decisions

“Who’s behind this?” the Mayor mused. “No-one can say. But, you can bet your Toucan that it’s a power that’s anti-American. You have to be really low to take-out The Land O Lakes Butter Princess. She’s been titillating high school barely-pubsecents for years. Aunt Jemima? Gone. Remember the Ajax Pixies? Disappeared. Their families didn’t even get the remains. If you want to see an example of icons who’ve just ‘gone away?’ Try finding the California Raisins or Josephine the Plumber or The Maytag Guy.”

At that point, Weekly World News complimented the Mayor on his tinfoil hat. Having done our research, we asked the Mayor if he wasn’t involved in a pretty aberrated Deep State conspiracy group.

“10-Q,” he replied.

“You’re quite welcome, but about this group…?”

“We’re a group of patriotic paranoiacs who find almost everything threatening because every experience is controlled by the Deep State.”

“Even this one?” we replied.

The man screamed and fell onto the ground in fetal position. “Fie upon thee! Fie upon thee!”

We, then, re-focused our attention on the large green foot next to the lake. There was a commotion going on the water itself.


A cry emerged from the lake. They’d found the Giant’s head, floating and grinning at a cliff. As anguished cries arose and the Chief and Mayor stood paralyzed, a gigantic waterspout emerged from the lake.

“We’ve found his ass!” came a voice.

The Chief and Mayor sagged. “I’ll bring in the usual suspects,” the Chief muttered. “Our giant ran afoul of Paul Bunyan last month, after he dumped Paul’s sister, Paula. Then, I heard he shacked up with The 50 Foot Woman…which pissed-off The Amazing Colossal Man. They should’ve named our guy The Horny Giant. If only he’d just stuck to gardening and just plowed his fields.”

At the edge of the lake, the waterspout still rising, the saddened populace moaned “Ho-ho-ho no mo.”

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