Vol. 103,  No. 1
Hellmouth,  Arizona
Jan. 10,  2003

    It was on a day much like this one more than thirteen years ago that the news broke over a Hellmouth that was still very innocent and wide-eyed.  Big Burt the butcher was putting Scandinavian sausage rolls on sale.  Joe's Not-So-Bad Cafe was empty as usual.  Car horns and leaf blowers competed for the attention of passersby on 3rd and Vine Streets, and a really bad odor was leaking out from the back of the Southwest Arizona Plastics Factory that had just been built behind the Library.  At 9:14am, Bill Farthingdale dropped a load of golf balls which caused several accidents in Memorial Square.  At 11:50am, the Senior Curator of Lesser Primates at the Man and Mammal Museum discovered that his entire file on really slow lorises was missing.  And exactly at 2:21pm, the Gorogo Bean Boosters Club of Hellmouth put down a deposit at the Antlered Animals Lodge Hall to reserve a meeting room for their annual get-together. But these events were the kinds of things that happened on a daily basis in the muddy Horntoad River Valley, the kinds of things that hardly even raised eyebrows, the kinds of things that hardly ever made it into the pages of the Daily Describer.  These events in short were not like what happened at the offices of the New Primate Nooz this past Thursday.
    It was Millicent Minniwell who saw him first and she fainted dead away.  Then Nooz resident Big Guy Christopher Shaw, in Hellmouth to publicize his new book, The Planet Zarkon and Its Role in Primate Evolution, almost ran into him on his way to the copy machine.  Finally, publisher Arnett Putney, III and executive editor Widen Lundale, Jr. were interrupted during a strategy session when he stumbled into the boardroom.  It was Win Wing Wan, accidentally cryogenically frozen all those many months ago. They stared at him in amazement, then called for some tea and crumpets.  Win was always partial to crumpets.
    We here at the New Nooz are at something of a loss to explain the presence of this formerly frozen member of our staff, except to say that Dr. Dick Doody, at whose hands his temperature was so drastically lowered, claims to have cloned him from a hair he found in the executive washroom.  We will keep our readers informed of any new developments, and meanwhile the senior Win, with the help of his 2nd and 3rd eldest sons, will be resuming his old position effective immediately.
(NORD) Bjornafjord, Norway.  The famed Nordic monkey scholar and Flekkesund College Professor Emeritus Rolf Sigurd Vanhammerfest turned 115 years old yesterday in his big oaken four-poster bed with a chorus of nineteen khaki-clad schoolchildren singing that old Norse standby "We Can't Believe You're So Old." In attendance was his wife, Trysil, his three sons, Kristian, Froya and Leka, six grandchildren, 12 great-grandchildren, 27 great-great-grandchildren and approximately 72 great-great-great-grandchildren. Even without the nine members of the Bjornafjord Town Council and their wives and children, and no fewer than nineteen dogs and cats and one parrot, the room would have been very crowded. As it was, there was a shortage of oxygen, and Prof. Vanhammerfest had to be rescussitated by a local paramedic in order to eat his reindeer cake.  After polishing off a hefty slice, he announced that he was going to remain in bed for the remainder of his life.
 The New Primate Nooz is published whenever  there is news to publish by the worthy people at  the Kashihara Takeshitahara Corporation.  Copies  are shipped to all major zoos and animal testing  facilities in the U.S. and Japan, and e-mailed to  much of Africa, Asia and South America (except  for Costa Rica). Back issues may be requested by  sending in SASE and $5 per issue to:  New Primate  Nooz, Takeshitahara Building, Suite 9011, Hell-
 mouth, AZ. 85191 or by visiting our website at:  www.webnooz/backissues.
(Desert Weekly)  New Primate Nooz roving reporter
and international gadabout Eric Scotmeister Fleigle-haus was seriously injured last Thursday in the crash of a hot-air balloon being piloted by Teddy Bidwell and Robert Louis MacCown.  The trio was engaged in a population census of the notoriously reclusive South Sudanese dune monkeys when a sand vulture apparently mistook their balloon for its mate and attempted to have "relations" with it.  Sand vultures are famous for the aggressiveness of their "relations" which involve razor-sharp talons and strong beaks, and the balloon's thin mylar material was quickly holed in several places, plunging the vehicle to the desert below where it landed in the middle of the highly secret water celebration of a frenzied group of nomadic Bedouins, who proceeded to shred what was left of it with their scimitars while howling curses in Arabic at foreign interlopers.
    Bidwell and MacCown managed to talk their way out of trouble due to their fluency in several obscure Arabic languages, but Fleiglehaus had no such luck and was carried kicking and screaming into a nearby tent, where he was forced to eat an entire plate of goat eyeballs.  The Bedouin leader then summoned a camel taxi and Fleiglehaus was hoisted unceremoniously aboard, at which time he was transported to a hospital only 287 miles away in Khartoum.  Upon arrival, his injuries were listed as a slight strain of the optic nerve and a 1mm tear in the skin of his buttocks. He will remain in recovery for approximately one month, and his future assignments will be held in abeyance until he is completely well again.