Penn Valley, CA — The Nevada County Scooper was recently called a “Fake News Site” on Wikipedia, a description recently attached to the Scooper by Snopes, the leading debunking source for people trying to determine if information is true. According to Snopes, “although it (the Scooper) is considered to be a source of satire, several of its articles confused people on social media.”
Scooper President Lou LaPlante appeared very alarmed by this designation and announced today that the Scooper would try very hard in the future to be “Non-Fake.” He explained that, “Our world is confusing enough without the Scooper making it worse. We are going to “drain the swamp” and eliminate the types of stories that may have caused confusion in the past.”
When asked for examples of the Scooper’s past transgressions, he reminisced.
“We on occasion may indeed have crossed that line. I can now see why our readers had trouble distinguishing truth from fiction. For example, after we ran a story about a pack of kangaroos on the San Juan Ridge, a band of alarmed locals holding large nets suddenly appeared at the Brass Rail Tavern, aiming to capture the marsupials. Luckily, a sheriff’s deputy was in the area and dispersed the unruly crowd, which had managed to ensnare a three-legged dog that was hopping around the establishment. The dog was later released unharmed, but our reckless reporting nearly caused a major incident. I am so sorry for that.”
The salty Louisiana native continued on to detail other troubling stories. He described how the whole county was inconvenienced when the Rood Center was closed for two days for pest fumigation following a Scooper story reporting that an alien spider had attached itself to the top of Nevada County District 1 Supervisor Nate Beason’s head.
Mr. LaPlante was absolutely contrite when he described what happened after the Scooper story about green Jell-O being dumped into the pristine Yuba River. He said softly, “How was I to know that the South Yuba River Citizens League would buy into the story and spend the next few months applying for a state grant for removal and remediation of the Jell-O? We went too far, and when the grant was approved, they discovered there was no Jell-O and had to send the money back. They could have spent that time and money trying to save the salmon.”
He continued saying that of all the harmful Scooper stories, he felt the worst about the disappearing towns’ series, towns like Fargo, North Dakota, towns the Scooper said didn’t exist. Wiping a stray tear from his eye, he picked up a tattered letter from his desk, a letter sent to him from a little girl from Fargo. The letter asked me “Why did you make my daddy go away?” Apparently, when the father was told by a Nevada County relative that Fargo didn’t really exist, the father believed the story and didn’t come home to his family after work that day. They never heard from him again.
Mr. LaPlante noted that the Scooper staff had just returned from a year-end employee retreat, and that the mood at the outset there could best be described as “downbeat and remorseful.” He said that the retreat had ended, however, in a spirit of rebirth for the enterprise, and that all personnel had emerged united in a mission to discover a new direction for the publication, one that would not destroy people’s lives. LaPlante announced with evident pride, that effective immediately, Scooper readers would begin to see a new and gentler theme to Scooper articles, one that wasn’t hurtful, critical or sharp. LaPlante listed a few upcoming top stories his reporters were working on, including “Trends in Dressing for Farm Fashion,” “A Day in the Life of Justin Bieber,” and “Best Bingo Joints.” LaPlante ended our conversation with, “If you’re looking for “fake news,” you’ll just have to find another source. We’ve changed!”