Zack, Kelly Morris slain; Carosi among those in custody

Stacey Carosi hides her face while entering the Bayside Police Station on Tuesday.

BAYSIDE, Calif.—Zack Morris and Kelly Kapowski-Morris were found dead Tuesday in their Bayside residence, and Stacey Carosi, a beach resort heiress who once had a summer fling with Mr. Morris, is among seven women apprehended in connection with the slayings.

Zack and Kelly, in happier times.

Carosi appears to be the ringleader of the alleged slaying septet, all of whom had some sort of romantic connection to Mr. Morris over the years—romances that often ended abruptly.

“It appears Morris’s short attention span in the romance game finally caught up to him,” said Albert Tuttle, Bayside chief of police and brother of one of the multipurpose educators at Bayside High. “Carosi’s meaningless romance lasted nearly a summer, which seems to have put her in the position of gang leader here, but she hardly acted alone.”

Along with Carosi, Bayside law enforcement are holding the following young women for their alleged roles in the killings:

• Danielle, who as a college student would occasionally rendezvous with Morris at the trendy dance club The Attic.
• Wendy, the overweight gal who blew her life savings to buy a date with Morris, which officially lasted about 92 seconds.
• Kristi, the female wrestler who during a date at The Max defended Morris from a sure ass-whipping by a Valley tough.
• Melissa, a wheelchair-bound damsel who met Morris via an advice hotline and eventually inspired Morris and his friends to feel like shit for having full mobility.
• Jennifer, a former lover of Bayside classmate Albert Clifford (aka A.C.) Slater who became sloppy seconds for Morris for a day or two.
• J.B. Slater, sibling of A.C. Slater who attended Bayside High School for approximately six days and was on the receiving end of Morris’s doo-wop skills during a performance by The Five Aces.

Morris’s dating pattern was consistent with all of the suspects: he would give the relationship a chance for a limited period of time, then allow things to end, often in the middle of a dance or shared milk shake. The young ladies would then disappear from Bayside, while Morris would resume his pursuit of Kapowski.

“I find it strange that A.C. would remain friends with this Morris character, seeing as his ex-girlfriend and his sister went missing shortly after their relationships with Morris apparently hit the skids,” Tuttle said.

As it happened, the women had not vanished but had merely relocated to Carosi’s resort, where they enjoyed a communal lifestyle while Carosi developed their murderous plot, which Bayside cops say was put into action late Monday night.

The women left behind a gruesome crime scene inside the Morrises’ bungalow. Morris had been bludgeoned with his outdated, oversized cellular phone; Kapowski-Morris had been bound by her lifeguard whistle, run over by a small vehicle (presumably Melissa’s chair), and then asphyxiated, likely by Wendy the large gal smothering Kapowski with her girth.

Most disturbing, however, was a message written in what appeared to be Morris’s blood on one of the interior walls: “Friends Forever.”

“That will haunt me for all of my days,” Tuttle said. “I’ll never be able to listen to that song again.”

Friends Forever was scrawled on an interior wall in what appears to be Morris's blood.

Bayside cops could have faced a long list of suspects in the Morris slayings—it’s no secret that Mr. Morris had crossed many people during his life. Principal Richard Belding was constantly at odds with Morris. A.C. Slater watched Morris marry the foxy Kapowski after banging Slater’s ex and Slater’s sister. The Bayside dorks and nerds were targets of constant putdowns and financial scams. And Tori Scott, who once dated Morris, seemed like the kind of badass who could kill.

But Carosi’s gang came forward with confessions just before dawn Tuesday, saving the police a lot of legwork. According to James Patovich, who represents Kristi the wrestler, everyone but Carosi had no idea what to do next, as their lives always seemed to “hit the end credits” at the moment of climax. So they turned themselves in, figuring their roles were inconsequential from this point onward.

Principal Belding mourns at The Max while wearing a Johnny Dakota jacket.

While Carosi awaits the legal process, Bayside residents and alums are coping with the tragic loss of the town’s most photogenic couple.

A.C. Slater and on-again/off-again girlfriend Jessie Spano delivered a heartwrenching rendition of “How Am I Supposed to Live Without You” at a Tuesday night vigil in downtown Bayside. A historically accurate ritual was performed by Native American relatives of Chief Running Zack. And Principal Belding canceled a raft trip with his brother Rod and dove head-first into a drunken stupor at The Max.

“My life sucks,” Belding said.

Samuel Powers was not contacted for comment.

AC/DC’s Wal-Mart deal seems unnecessary, Drake researcher says

DES MOINES, Iowa—Veteran rock outfit AC/DC’s deal to sell its forthcoming album exclusively in Wal-Mart stores shouldn’t really alter the landscape of AC/DC album sales, according to a recent statistical analysis.

As the rock community braces for the Oct. 20 U.S. release of Black Ice, a Drake University study has revealed that AC/DC might have unnecessarily entered into an exclusivity deal with retail behemoth Wal-Mart, given that 96.8 percent of the band’s discs sold in the United States since 1990 were purchased in a Wal-Mart or Sam’s Club store.

“This is like if Fall Out Boy decided to sell its licensed T-shirts exclusively at Hot Topic—to the fans, it would be business as usual,” said Stephen J. Danssler, associate professor of communication studies at Drake and lead author of the AC/DC research findings, which were published in the September issue of Kerrang! magazine. “I guess it’s nice to have a deal in writing, but AC/DC and Wally World have long been partners in the distribution of formulaic, redundant, mind-numbing butt rock.”

Indeed, the numbers found in the Drake study are staggering. Danssler’s report notes that Back in Black, an album that has seen sales topping 22 million in the United States, moved 94.3 percent of its post–1990 American sales through the warehouses and supercenters of Sam’s and Wal-Mart. Another 3.7 percent was sold at Midwestern Pamida stores; the remaining 2 percent was attributed to sales at the Iowa 80 truck stop just west of the Quad Cities.

“You can buy a lot of shit [at Iowa 80],” Danssler said. “Including AC/DC albums.”

Sales breakdown by seller for the 1995 release Ballbreaker.

More recent releases, such as 1990’s The Razors [sic] Edge, 1995’s Ballbreaker, and 2000’s Stiff Upper Lip saw even greater sales numbers at Wal-Mart locations as Pamida vanished from the “rube retail” realm. In fact, according to Danssler’s figures, Stiff Upper Lip logged 99.2 percent of its sales from Wal-Mart/Sam’s Club; the remaining discs were sold at a Ben Franklin five-and-dime store in Cobblers Point, Wis., while that town’s Wal-Mart was closed for seven days following an immigration raid.

Danssler was asked about a couple of common factors that have eroded album sales in America’s typical brick-and-mortar shops: secondhand CD sales at used CD stores, and digital outlets such as iTunes Music Store.

“Let me address the first point, the used-CD stores,” Danssler said. “This has definitely hurt some bands in recent years. Frankly, if someone needs a copy of Motley Crue’s Decade of Decadence, that person can go to any Disc-Go-Round or Revitalized Vinyl and snag it for pennies.

“But when the ‘DC sells an album, most likely to a Wal-Mart patron, rest assured that that disc would never be resold, not even to the devil.”

On the topic of digital sales, Danssler snickered and said, “AC/DC fans don’t own computers.”

In a show of multidisciplinary cooperation, marketing faculty from Drake’s business school also contributed to the study, showing the untapped benefits Wal-Mart could gain from an official partnership with AC/DC.

“Wal-Mart’s shitty Dr. Pepper knockoff soda is called Dr. Thunder,” said Sam Gianno, faculty chair of Drake’s marketing department, during a phone interview to discuss his contribution to the study. “Now close your eyes for a second. Picture some mullet-headed stud, or perhaps a sweaty broad in a bikini, downing a big glass of brown fizzy refreshment.

“As the drinker continues to chug, you start to hear a guitar lick getting louder and louder. Suddenly a chant begins: THUNDER! NA-NA-NA-NA NA-NA-NA-NA! THUNDER! That’s right, ‘Thunderstruck’ teams up with Dr. Thunder.”

After letting out a bemused chuckle, Gianno adds, “If a 67-cent price tag can’t sell a 2-liter of that swill, I’m betting AC/DC can.”

John Mundt, Esq., contributed to this report.

McCain: I picked Palin to sway Monty Python Dems

DAYTON, Ohio—Republican presidential hopeful John McCain told supporters at a rally Wednesday that his running mate, Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin, will pull in voters from numerous obvious demographics—white women, caribou fans, old white dudes, college-aged MILF hunters. But her presence on the GOP ticket is not attracting the intended target audience: Monty Python Democrats who presumably have a blind devotion to anyone with the last name Palin.

Sarah Palin (left) is not drawing fans of Michael Palin (right) to the McCain-Palin presidential ticket.

“I’m really surprised,” McCain said. “My plan was this: the Monty Python Dems spend all their time memorizing quotes, which means they have zero time to follow current events. They show up to the polls on Nov. 4, possibly and preferably stoned, and see Palin next to my name. They utter some obscure Michael Palin quote from the Flying Circus show, color in our oval, and I change my forwarding address to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

“Unfortunately, these Python fans do make time to watch Jon Stewart and Saturday Night Live, so now they know that Palin is not the British funnyman Michael Palin but rather a humorless broad named Sarah Palin who comes from a place where funny only happens unintentionally,” McCain said. “My best strategy now is to try to convince enough people that Sarah Palin is really Tina Fey.”

Meanwhile, Monty Python Dems have come out of the woodwork to criticize McCain’s transparent attempt at wooing the Python vote.

“It’s no secret that members of the Columbus (Ohio) Dead Parrot Society were really hoping that Sen. [Barack] Obama would select John Cleese as his running mate,” said Dead Parrot Society president Chad Alexander. “It would have been a historic moment in American politics. It would have broken through that glass ceiling—I mean, how many people think they’ll live long enough to see a black man and a funny British guy in the White House?

“So yes, when Obama chose Joe Biden, there was not much celebration in our camp,” Alexander continued. “But for John McCain to think that we would be so dense as to not see through this farce—you’re not selling us no dead parrot, buddy!”

Things have gotten ugly between Python fans and the Arizona Republican at recent events in battleground states—and McCain’s attempts at being hip to the Python vernacular haven’t helped matters much.

One Python fan confronted McCain after a rally in Harrisburg, Pa., exchanging harsh words crafted by the comedy troupe members themselves.

“I object to you automatically treating me like an inferior,” said Dennis London, an androgynous fellow whom McCain had addressed as “old woman” during the after-speech meet-and-greet.

McCain, prompted via earpiece that this was a variation on a Michael Palin line in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, was fed the next line of dialogue, which he delivered: “Well, I am king.”

Dennis predictably retorted, “Oh, king eh? Very nice. And how’d you get that, eh? By exploiting the workers. By hanging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society.”

McCain then ordered Dennis to be quiet.

Another Python fan, Richard Pearlman, summed up his reservations about Sarah Palin’s readiness for the country’s No. 2 position as only a true Michael Palin fan could: “Listen, strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government.”

“They all sucked”: No winner declared in coloring contest

OELWEIN, Iowa—In what is thought to be a first, there was no winner declared in the annual First National Bank coloring contest.

Also a first: the judge was arrested for allegedly attempting to assault one of the young artists over work deemed “nothing short of pornographic” by the artwork arbiter.

“The level of talent was obviously lacking,” said contest judge Earl Blads, 73, from a jail pay phone. “I hope to see some improvement next year.”

The contest, sponsored by the bank, has been a mainstay of the Oelwein community for nearly four decades. Previous contests have always produced a clear-cut winner.

This was Blads’ first year judging the contest, and he brought lofty expectations. “I don’t know what they are doing in those schools,” Blads said during his jailhouse interview. “Looks to me like the schools aren’t challenging our children in the coloring and magic marker area.”

There was nary an entry in either the 4–6 or 7–9 age divisions that Blads felt was even close to satisfactory.

“If this was just some leisurely activity, I might be merciful,” Blads said. “But I think my judgment was fair, possibly a bit soft.

“Christ, they all sucked,” he added.

The picture used in the contest featured 11 members of the Peanuts gang, a popular creation by Charles Schulz.

“Not a real challenge,” Blads said.

Alexis Channing, last year’s champion in the 7–9 age group, was back to defend her title. The rather cute 8-year-old was visibly excited as she submitted her entry.

Blads simply handed it back to her, frowning, and muttered, “Not very good.”

When asked to defend the decision that sent the defending champion into a bawling tirade, Blads said: “Did you see Marcie’s hair? Brown! When it should have been burnt sienna!”

Despite the entry disqualifications, bank president Jill Manello decided to hang the entries in the bank window anyway. “I thought they looked okay, aside from the ones that Mr. Blads crumpled up and threw back at the kids,” she said.

Blads allowed the display to happen without interference on his part, although he did bite his lip hard enough to draw blood as the pictures were exhibited. Blads’s face was also a color that he himself would have described as “brick red.”

He could not keep his temper in check after seeing the final entry of the day, submitted by David Jepsen.

Jepsen, a 9-year-old wise beyond his years, had done an admirable job. “He had proper color choices, he had good directional flow, and he stayed within the boundaries,” Manello said. “He did add a bit of freestyle work with a couple of Sharpies, though.”

The entry by David Jepsen in the First National Bank coloring contest led to the arrest of judge Earl Blads, 73, after he attempted to maim the young artist.

Jepsen took the following liberties:

• A heart hovering over the heads of two female characters, Marcie and Peppermint Patty, suggesting forbidden love.
• A lit cigarette dangling from the mouth of Snoopy, and a smoking cigar (labeled “chronic”) pursed by the lips of Franklin.
• The use of a beer bong by Lucy Van Pelt.
• Erect penises jutting from the crotch regions of Charlie Brown (who also was sporting sunglasses courtesy of Jepsen) and Linus Van Pelt. The sexual organs found resting places in the mouths of Marcie and Sally Brown, respectively.

“I did the smokes and the shades and the beer bong, but I knew a missing link remained,” the boy said. “Then I noticed the looks of pleasure on Chuck and Linus and the gaping mouth holes on the gals, and wondered why ol’ Schulzie hadn’t thought of drawing the crossed swords himself.”

Blads did not take the artistic expression in stride. He lunged at the youth, reportedly threatening to “rip off Jepsen’s ‘little peach crayon’ and stuff it down his throat.”

“I guess next year we’ll do a background check on our judges,” Manello said.

DJ plays “Mony Mony” at church youth dance; all hell breaks loose

DECORAH, Iowa—What started off as an upstanding social outing for area teenagers quickly turned into a display of debauchery following the playing of the Billy Idol classic hit “Mony Mony” on Saturday.

The song was played about two hours into a teen dance at the Harold and Inez Gustafson Recreational Center in the heart of Decorah. The local Lutheran, Presbyterian, and Catholic churches had sponsored the dance and had invited area high school students to attend.

“We thought it would be a good idea to bring young Christians together to enjoy one another’s company and move rhythmically to some harmless tunes,” said the Reverend Howard Oleson of St. John’s Church as he swept empty punch cups, a stray pair of panties, and torn condom wrappers off the rec center gym floor. “Instead, thanks to that numbskull DJ we hired, I witnessed something called ‘felching.’ “

The dance started promptly at 7 p.m. with a speech by Father Anson Dunmore from St. Matt’s Catholic Church and a group prayer before Say It Loud Productions disc jockey/owner Sheldon Cullen got the party started with “I Can See Clearly Now” by Gospel Gangstaz, “Flood” by Jars of Clay, and “Higher” by Creed.

“Not my typical opening fare,” said Cullen when reached via cell phone. “I usually like to open with a little GNR, you know, ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ or whatever, or AC/DC’s tried-and-true ‘You Shook Me All Night Long.’ But with all these men of the cloth standing guard, I thought it best to play it cool.

“At least they weren’t holed up with altar servers somewhere, ya know?” Dunmore added.

By most accounts, the teenage attendants weren’t really feeling the vibe either. Many of them stood on the outskirts of the dance floor; the dancing populace consisted of six dateless ladies and the occasional male goofball running across the gym.

But at 9:02 p.m., Dunmore, who was operating his playlist from iTunes software, meant to click on the somber “Monday, Monday” by the Mamas and the Papas when he accidentally double-clicked the neighboring “Mony Mony.”

Instinct took over. The teens let out a collective howl and sprinted for the center of the room, all yelling out the traditional reply to Idol’s verse: “Hey! Hey what? Get laid, get fucked!” This phrase was repeated eight times throughout the course of the song, growing in intensity with each repitition.

Hey! Hey what? Get laid, get fucked! chanted Decorah teens.

By the time the song reached the “ride the pony” part, no fewer than 18 female dancers had removed their tops and many of the boys were also strutting around shirtless, clad only in boxers and socks. Simultaneously, a clandestine vodka-spiking had occurred at the punch bowl, and word quickly spread of the new alcoholic menu item.

Cullen, noticing the explosion of repressed sexual electricity in the room, followed the Idol tune with Missy Elliott’s “Get Ur Freak On.” At this point the teens—many of whom had fruit punch–stained faces and clothes due to urgent consumption of the spiked drink—paired off and began what can best be described as “sexual calisthenics.” Those who were without partners began breaking furniture and/or participating in fisticuffs.

With the clergymen taking shelter in closets or outside the building, the fracas continued for another three songs (“Closer” by Nine Inch Nails, “Add It Up” by Violent Femmes, and the aforementioned “You Shook Me All Night Long”) before Cullen calmed things down by tossing on Extreme’s “More Than Words.”

With the spiked punch bowl exhausted and bodily fluids expelled, the students made a break for the door. Rumor has it that most of the kids were in search of Class of 2002 graduate Derek Goebe, who is old enough and lame enough to buy the supplies for a raging kegger.

Oleson said this would probably be the last time the spiritual community tries to host any sort of entertainment activity, although the reasoning might have more to do with finances than morals.

“There’s no fucking way the rec center returns our security deposit now,” Oleson said.

Corey Hart, Sammy Hagar cited in late-hour car crash

Corey Hart (left) and Sammy Hagar

LOS ANGELES—Pop vocalists Corey Hart and Sammy Hagar received citations for their roles in a head-on collision on Interstate 5 early this morning.

According to reports filed by officers of the California Highway Patrol (aka CHiPs), Hart was traveling northbound in the southbound lanes of the multilane highway around 1:30 a.m. Officers observed that Hart seemed to be in full control of all of his faculties, and no drugs or alcohol were found in his 1992 Ford Taurus or on his person.

He was, however, wearing sunglasses, which officers believe was a contributing factor in the crash.

Oncoming drivers avoided Hart for nearly a mile, according to witness statements. However, Hart’s luck ran out when Hagar came roaring down the freeway in his 1989 Pontiac Grand Prix at speeds well over 55 miles per hour.

“Hart’s nighttime use of dark lenses coupled with Hagar’s inability to operate a motor vehicle at reasonable speeds, that’s a bad mix,” said CHP spokesman Randy Baddington. “Kinda like a mix tape featuring Corey Hart and Sammy Hagar is a bad idea.”

Hart and Hagar collided, but miraculously neither rocker suffered serious injury. Hagar was cited for refusing to drive 55, despite his insistence that he is simply incapable of doing such; Hart was nabbed for wearing his sunglasses at night.

“Hart was a little surprised to receive a ticket—he went as far as to ask if I was kidding,” said CHP officer Sean Tavin. “I reassured him that I knew better than to masquerade with the guy in shades.”

Rams QB petitions for “5-Mississippi” pass-rush rule

ST. LOUIS—Rams quarterback Marc Bulger on Wednesday submitted a formal request to NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell in hopes of having a “5-Mississippi” pass-rush rule instituted before the Rams’ first game against the Philadelphia Eagles.

“I’m one more big hit away from becoming a certified marshmallow-head,” Bulger said after a discouraging practice in which he was repeatedly sacked by the scout team defense. “I’ve always wanted to meet a matador, and it appears management has granted that wish by signing five of them to play offensive line for the Rams.”

In a seven-page petition faxed to the league office, Bulger spelled out the definition of his “5-Mississippi” rule: the defense must count aloud “1-Mississippi, 2-Mississippi, 3-Mississippi, 4-Mississippi, 5-Mississippi” before attempting to rush the quarterback. Bulger’s rule is commonly observed in schoolyard contests and backyard games across the United States.

 

A common sight for Rams QB Marc Bulger. (Simon Bruty/SI)

Bulger cited the Rams affinity for allowing sacks—especially as the health of left tackle Orlando Pace continues to decline—and mentioned that some of the linemen just have names that don’t instill confidence in a signal caller.

“When one of your linemen is [right guard Richie] Incognito, you start to wonder if they’ll show up on game day,” Bulger wrote.

The Rams’ golden arm also penned a concession that the defense could be allowed one immediate rush per four downs, but that the quarterback would have the option to forgo the center-quarterback exchange and begin the play holding the ball 10 yards behind the line of scrimmage—the schoolyard version of the shotgun formation.

In the document’s final section, labeled “Innovative Thoughts,” Bulger suggested the quarterback could earn an “immunity necklace” a la Survivor by going five pass plays without being sacked or by running for positive yardage or getting back to the line of scrimmage without fumbling the ball.

Bulger’s counterpart in Sunday’s game, Eagles QB Donovan McNabb, said he’s not willing to go as far as a “5-Mississippi” delay, but might throw his support behind some sort of compromise.

“I grew up with the ‘5-Chicago’ rule, and it seemed to make everyone happy,” McNabb said. “Three syllables are plenty.”

Goodell has yet to publicly comment on Bulger’s petition; a source from the commissioner’s office said Goodell “will probably do a ‘5-Mississippi’ count before reacting to the request.”