Citing a drop in tourism, public health and general dignity, a concerned community gathered Monday afternoon to discuss Tom's Landfill, the proliferating eyesore of Bongscrape that now threatens the very livelihood of its residents. Many spoke out against the terrible aroma of dirty socks, rotting pizza and stale beer permeating the atmosphere, as well as the loose garbage that whips through the streets like tumbleweeds.
"I just wish he'd clean up his shit," said neighbor Ross Jeeves.
The community has been trying to contact Tom about his landfill in urgency since it began tumbling into what remains of the Cannatown Hole, the beloved historic icon that was filled in years ago during a controversial and failed effort to revitalize the area. Like other nearby alleys and vacant lots, it is quickly becoming overrun by the "untraditional" landfill, 99.9% of which, residents say, is comprised of Tom's own stuff.
It hasn't always been like this. What all began years ago as a stack of pizza boxes and empty beer cases, overtook a full house within two winters, room by room, then crept over the next decade to neighboring structures, every inch becoming a new heap of junk full of dirty laundry, mix tapes, old textbooks, car parts, festival novelties, broken glass pieces, electronics needing batteries or wires or circuit boards, perfectly good carpet remnants, wood scraps, and other worthless junkets. For an entire era it grew, not out, but up, fostering what many have called the South Bongscrape Stink.
Alarms were raised when it was found that the landfill had annexed another third of an acre on Gooball Drive to make way for a cache of technology equipment from Tom’s failed Ken Chesney fan venture, Chesney+. The danger, scientists and authorities said, was that it was unclear whether Tom, or the landfill itself, had spread into the space.
"I'm not sure if the garbage has achieved a sort of sentience, wouldn't surprise me," said local restaurateur Gabby Shaw, "What I do know is, business is down at my coffee shop."
But the stink soils more than just Main Street's bottom line. Those on adjacent city blocks say they've had to change their lives entirely. "We had to move our anniversary party," lamented local octogenarian Dwurd Spurd. "We can't have our relatives come visit, in fact, they refuse to."
"Even when they meet us in the big city they still say we carry the reek of Bongscrape," he added, the shame in his voice, thinly-veiled.
Unfortunately, Spurd and others will have to continue breathing the rancid air for now; although ripe with ideas, the forum failed to produce a plan of action. A fact-finding group will report at next month's hearing on the topic of how one person could source, and produce, that much junk.
Tom was represented by an associate liaison who did not respond to questions but instead unrolled a sleeping bag and appeared to set up long-term camp. By morning, some of Tom's things had mysteriously manifested in the back of the foyer, and it became clear that the landfill could soon swallow the Town Hall if no action is taken.
Pictured below: The elusive Tom, allegedly spotted atop a wall of garbage, circa 2016
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