Welcome to the eleventh issue of Sketchy Scoops! Your number one source for the most spurious content on the internet.
Gossip, Hearsay, and Scuttlebutt
What We’re Trying to Pass as Reporting. Not Guaranteed to be Factually Accurate— or even true.
OnlyHobbits?
Big Foot, Mothman, Chupacabras, and so many other creatures of myth and legend exist on the fringes of society. They hide in the shadows and only allow the most grainy of photographic evidence to hint at their existence. It is a rare thing indeed to see a member of this group openly disclose their existence or the exact ways in which they are different from everyday humans.
That is why we were shocked to see
openly admit his Hobbit heritage. The fact that he is considering actively monetizing it is truly remarkable and may very well be the first time this has happened in recorded history. If hairy feet are your thing, Josh has a business proposal for you.When not enjoying Second Breakfast, Josh Tatter reguarly shares his opinions and insights on his Substack Josh Tatter Has Thoughts. At presstime, it remained unclear exactly how Josh hopes to distribute pictures of his feet, but you can contact him directly via his profile on Notes.
Editor’s Note: the following story is a continuation of last week’s entry An Unexpected Detour. You may want to read that one first if you’re coming into this cold.
Scoop Reports: A Change of Focus
“I tried to warn you, Sam.” Bessie said the words slowly as though each one caused her pain. “I didn’t want things to come to this, but you refused to be deterred. You can’t be allowed to continue to upset the balance. You’re revealing truths the world isn’t ready to hear.”
“But, Bessie, you’re family…” I stammered.
“It’s for your own good. This is the only way you’ll be safe.” She looked away when she’d finished speaking.
Couldn’t even bear to look me in the eye. I started to reply, but I was cut off.
“Enough!” the man in the center of the group said.
He was impossibly old and twisted with age. His back was so bent that it was impossible for him to sit up straight in his chair. Yet there was an intensity about him that belied his feeble frame. When I felt the full intensity of his gaze, I realized that he was a man of great power. It wasn’t immediately obvious whether that power represented something supernatural or simply that others would obey his every command without question. Regardless, I felt my insides shrivel up as I stood before his unwavering scrutiny.
He leaned forward in his chair, the balance of his weight supported by his firm grasp on a heavy staff of gnarled oak. “Sam Stirling, you’ve been a thorn in our side for too long. That ends today.” There was a finality to his words as if there could be no doubt but that his decision was final. “We’ve brought you here to present you with a choice for how this will end.”
“I won’t stop publishing. The only way you’ll get that is if you kill me!”
The old man smiled at that. “That’s on the table as well, but there are better methods. Your first option is to leave here and decide to continue revealing our existence to your kind. That is a path that is available to you, but you should know that if you should choose to go down this path, we will ruin your credibility. You’ll be exposed you as a charlatan and a fraud. Your very name will come to mean liar.”
He gave me a devious smile and said, “I can see that you don’t believe me, but what you fail to understand is that I play a long game. It’s the benefit of the long lived. I’ve already put the pieces in place over the course of years. Some of your most celebrated victories will become your most ignominious moments and your greatest source of shame. What makes it even more delicious is that you helped put all the pieces in place. All it took was the gentlest of nudges and you went off chasing the stories that will ruin your entire career.” He made an impatient gesture with his staff. “Send her out!”
Two ogres? Were they really ogres? Their stooped shoulders, tusks, and squinty eyes matched every picture I’d ever seen of an ogre. Two ogres— or something very much like I imagine an ogre would look— emerged from a side corridor and my informant, Shelly, walked between them.
So, they’d grabbed her as well? That made sense. I didn’t like that they’d separated us, but I’d always told her that she had to be more careful. At least she was still alive. I didn’t have her blood on my hands. Yet.
Knowing that she’d missed our meeting because she’d been kidnapped by these thugs explained a lot of things. It also made me intensely curious about her latest tip. What had she uncovered that would unnerve these creatures so much to prompt them to take overt action?
The old man’s gaze returned to me. “I believe you know… what’s the name you call her? Shelly, is it? Yes, but her real name is Clisandra.” He chuckled. “Her name is not the only thing you’ve had wrong about her. You’ve misunderstood her entire nature. Clisandra is a changeling, and should you decide to refuse our offer, she will take your place in the world above… at least for a little time. Long enough to reveal that you made up all of those stories that you sourced from her. Long enough for all of the very powerful men who were harmed by your reporting to be exonerated and long enough for them to find out how to find you when we return you to the surface. I can see that you still don’t fully understand.” He looked at Shelly and said, “Clisandra, show him.”
Shelly changed. Her skin… it dissolved. It took on a golden hue and melted like wax; then, somehow, it moved of its own volition. Gradually, it rose and fell until the tenebrous mass assumed a new shape. As I watched, she grew in height, another twenty pounds of weight were added to her frame, and eventually, I stared into the face of my twin.
“All this time you thought she was helping you by feeding you leads to these little, nothing stories. In reality, she was studying you. Learning how you move, how you speak, how you think. She can easily step into any room and convince everyone there that she is in fact Sam Stirling. Those events that led to your disgrace and exile from the pages of mainstream newspapers? All these years that you have pled your innocence? That was this person you call Shelly acting on my behalf and under my orders.”
I was dumbfounded. How could I have been fooled so completely? It’s because she had told me what I wanted to hear. Gave me the stories I wanted to file. It was all too neat, and I should have been more suspicious and questioning from the start. This was my own fault.
“That was my first attempt to dissuade you. You rejected it and a dozen others. Today, you have my final offer. You will immediately comply with my demands and cease sharing our existence with the world. Should you choose not to do that, Clisandra will ruin your life and you’ll lose all credibility. That’s why I don’t need to kill you. I can disgrace you any time I like. And after the pain you’ve caused our community, the idea of you living in misery and defeat is so much more appealing than a merciful end to your existence.”
I met his gaze. “So, that’s it? I stop telling people about the-things-that-go-bump-in-the-night and I can go back to my life above ground?”
“Not quite,” the man said. I hated the satisfaction I saw in his eyes. “I know your kind too well. I know that forbidding an act is not enough. It’s never enough for you mortals. So, not only will you stop acting to reveal our existence, but you will also actively work with us. You will be our liaison to the mortal realm. When a paranormal creature is in danger of discovery, you will show up and smooth things over with the locals. You will help that entity subvert discovery and will report your activities to all our society via your newsletter.”
I shook my head. “That won’t work. I already have a subscriber list full of humans.”
At this point, the Shelly-Clisandra being spoke up. As she spoke, her skin reshaped itself into the form that I knew as Shelly. “You used to have a list full of humans. I have taken steps to alter the list. Now, the only people who will receive your missives are ones who have been touched by the supernatural in some way. They are beings with a latent and many times unknown heritage, but they are all what your people would call mythic or paranormal in some way. That is your new subscriber list.”
I… I didn’t know what to say. While I groped for words, the old man spoke once more. “And, just to make sure that you stay on the straight and narrow, Clisandra… eh, Shelly, if you prefer, will be joining you in your travels from this day forward.”
I looked at Bessie, but she continued to refuse to meet my eyes.
“This matter is ended,” the man said. He rose to his feet and made a dismissive gesture with his staff and the world changed. Suddenly, I was in front of my broken-down Ford van. Shelly stood next to me. She gave me a smile that honestly looked like she really did care and said, “Ready to get started?”
Dear Reader,
You’ll forgive me for addressing you directly, but if you’re receiving this message, would you mind speaking up in the comments? Tell me about yourself. Apparently, humans have been purged from my list and only paranormal creatures will receive this message. Were you previously aware of your heritage? Any other information you’d like to share?
All the best, Scoop
A Note from the Editor
Thank you for allowing me to be part of your week. I enjoy interacting with so many of you folks in the comments here and on Notes. This is a big issue for Scoop. His world changed today. I hope you folks are as excited about this as I am and that you’ll help spread the word so others who share our interests can find this newsletter.
Until next week remember the Citizen Journalist’s creed: If you see something, say something.
I'm fully human, and I've had issues with the council in the past. My technical acumen has allowed me to infiltrate their organization and keep tabs... for now. As a result, no matter how many times they remove me from lists, I'm still quite aware of what's happening behind the scenes. I know they're scared of Scoop and he's the only one so far that's gotten this close. Others have not been so lucky.
My connection to the paranormal is a powerful one but I can not speak of it here. Your words have confirmed my deepest suspicions...something I will have to talk with Shelly about...