As my faithful readers (pretty much just my Grandpa) will recall, a few months ago I wrote an investigative article on the White Rock Scandal of 2014. For those of you who skipped over my column because it’s a joke … literally and maybe figuratively depending on who you ask … I will bring you up to speed.
Basically I exposed the vandalizationing (not a real word) of the White Rock. I included some pretty concrete evidence, mainly consisting of non-concrete evidence, which concluded that Forks City Attorney Rod Fleck was the guilty party. What does Rod Fleck have to say about these alleged allegatory (also not a word) allegations? His official response was, “Call my attorney.” … which happens to be himself.
A journalist who exposes scandals … including made-up ones … is always aware of possible retribution. I was no exception. Shortly after the article went nationwide, I received a call from a man instructing me to make the scandal “go away.” If I refused to comply, I would be sent to collections for an unpaid water bill. Suspiciously, I haven’t received a water bill in over a year. Even more suspicious is the fact that I am not on city water.
Right before hanging up, the caller said, “And this isn’t Rod Fleck either. This is …uhh …Claude Beck!”
Having never heard of a Claude Beck, I asked around. Two people claimed to have been in Mrs. Fraker’s class with Claude, six people said they remembered when he scored the winning touchdown against Elma, four people claimed that he played Santa at the Santa Breakfast for many years and my dad said that he remembered when Claude ran into a mama bear and her cubs on the old 5200.
Completely off topic but to the hunters/loggers/outdoorsmen, I’m wondering if places such as the “5200” are real. It seems to me that you all just make up random numbers. My dad is always talking about the 900 or the 52,000 or the 3 trillion on Anderson Ridge. I never know where he is referring to but I pretend that I do … every time.
Getting back to Claude Beck, I think it’s pretty apparent that the entire town (including my own father) is involved in this conspiracy. Either way, Claude can attempt to silence me with threats of ruining my credit, but realistically my credit cannot get any worse. Even if I had credit that didn’t always make loan-giver-outers laugh hysterically, I wouldn’t let this “go away.” I have a reputation as a serious journalist on the line. Well, not really, but the people of Forks deserve to know the truth or rather the half-truth. Let’s be honest, most things that go around Forks are only half-truths at best anyway.
The fact remains that since I blew the whistle on this cover-up, the White Rock has been painted green. Coincidence? I’m going to let the people of Forks make that call. I’ll be sitting in my jail cell, awaiting my trial on alleged allegatory allegations of slander against Rod Fleck. This scandal clearly goes deeper than I thought.
To reach Christy, send mail to the Forks Jail …preferably with bail money enclosed.
