About
A world of Anthropomorphism
Welcome to Anthroxville,
once read a sign, which has long since been dismantled and sold for scrap so as to avoid giving the wrong impression to both residents and newcomers. "We have enough false-pretenses as it is," President Clint Bigot was quoted, in a rare moment of candid honesty, when asked about the sign's removal, by Spencer Godwottery for his floundering Well Magazine. "Your journalistic ability being one of them," Clint continued. It was true, maybe it was time to tackle the false-pretenses which had seemed to bedevil the anthropomorphic hellscape into thinking things could actually turn out okay. However, this went against the advice of President Bigot's Chief Vibe-Checker, Vanessa Trifle, who argued that, if anything, Anthroxville needed more false-pretenses, not less. With militant flat-earthers such as Pat O'Plateau declaring flatwas and pancaking the populace, such as in the case of Johann Underbelly; rampant anti-natalists headed up by Agatha Collop bringing the city to its knees; a lone, stoned and drunken pirate, Roy Bibbowski, and his steamboat, running the show on the river Ting-Fam; the religion of porno fracturing and having the masses in drooling fixation, as Quentin Marmalade and Charles Moneyshot thrash it out in the on-going arms-race for devotees for their respective Jerkoff and Tosser sects; restaurants where the food is so spicy, that they quite literally cause their patron's to spontaneously combust, such as Edison Upskirt's Upskirt Nosher; and the highest net worth individual, Dinero Cashmoney, taking to the skies in a hot air balloon to protest a new tax devised by Piper Yuwot, and refusing both to return to earth or to pay a single cent until it is abolished and Piper yanked into a straight-jacket and lobbed into the nearest mental asylum.
These are to name but a few goings-ons in Anthroxville, and under such circumstances, Vanessa cites the words of famed drug-slinger, Jackson Jiffy, who was the first to observe that "If you not trippin', you trippin'." Too much reality would lead to madness (à la Calvin Donnybrook), so false-pretenses should not only be encouraged, but mandated. "If you think this is bad, just wait until things really get real," she added. A new sign has since been put in its place, reading:
Welcome to Anthroxville*
*terms and conditions may apply
Distilling each anthropomorphic character's frenzied fiasco of experience, we take you through the convoluted and absurd cocktail of shenanigans, gyrations, and machinations that life in the banana republic of Anthroxville inevitably induces. The disease worsens with the treatment in these parts, and each slice-of-life story serves as a warts and all exposé, exploring a first-hand account of the daily madness of everyday existence one must endure; with all characters dementedly bound together by the common denominators of abnormality, adversity, and insanity. You’ll find folk from all walks of life and circumstance, with some born with silver spoons wedged in their mouths, such as Bertie Plimsoll, Tiffany Taradiddle, and Herbert Whiffpop; while others were born only to be dropped on their head moments later, as the perennially honked-off John Knuckle can testify to. No matter their class or creed, they all succumb to a chaotic confection of senseless exploits and wild escapades as they try, by hook or by crook, to navigate their way through the maniacal morass of the world they find themselves in.