Buffalo's Best Fiend

It's difficult for us to imagine for us at this point, but it wasn't very long ago that we at The BEST were still calling our paper The Beast, and fighting an offensively humorous battle against the uptight, the fascist, and the easily offended. Certainly, many of you out there who have picked up this paper expecting the same mean old Beast are asking, "What the hell is this?" Well let me tell you.

It started last week, when our staff slowly awoke from their usual post-production stupor. As Editor-in-Chief Al Uthman groggily gnawed on a day-old ashy pizza crust, he was reminded by his bleary-eyed art director that "the next issue will be number fifty, man-we should do something different."

Fifty issues! That's right; nearly two years of journalistic excellence, and what did we have to show for it-besides sore asses and increasingly fragile health? For 49 hard-wrought installments, The Beast's stalwart sleuths, wordsmiths, and drug addicts had provided beloved Buffalo with an original paper, devoid of the sickly sweet bias that characterized the rest of the town's print media. But still we struggled, still we starved, still our fair city's advertising dollars were frustratingly elusive. Time and time again, instead of "that article about Mad Cow was really informative and well-written," or "that interview with that body part made me pee my pants," we heard "you called my bar a shit-hole" or "that bag of snot made my wife vomit" when we called upon local business owners for a meager allowance of marketing revenue lifeblood. The message was clear: our sophisticated tastes and our keen eyes spelled trouble, when it came to reaping the rewards of our tireless creative endeavor.

"Get that crap outta here" was the refrain so oft repeated to our downtrodden distributors, when they tried to drop off a stack of our proud and noble paper--and we had had enough. When we brought our concerns to our master, BEST publisher Paul Fallon, he was unfazed. "Shut up, you dolts," said Fallon, "now get back to work before I get the bat." After appealing to his unswerving lust for money, however, a thin smile spread across his face. "Money, huh? Hmmm, maybe we should think about that."

The final straw came soon enough: no one had seen former Beast editor Kevin McElwee for a long time, but we figured he was just drinking his life away in obscurity somewhere. Then, a horrifying discovery: McElwee's still-clothed skeleton, found slumped behind a file cabinet by a still-traumatized Seamus Gallivan. So, this was what talent, hard work, and integrity brought

you in this town-starvation, exhaustion, and eventually, death at the office-and for what? To be considered "cool"or "hardcore?" We knew right then and there, we'd rather be considered "rich as hell."

McElwee's corpse sealed the deal. The Beast was no more. Local businesses, churches, and political bosses can relax once again, and insipid, obsequious news sources have gained a new member-The BEST!

Changing our name to The BEST represents a fundamental change in our outlook and editorial policy. We've been at this for a while now, and we're still hungry, cold, and wearing tatters. We thought Buffalo needed a paper that didn't BS the people, which told it like it is. But let's face it-we were wrong. People hate the truth! Apparently, what you want is a paper that puts a happy, if delusional, face on the city-and blows its advertisers with such abandon as is usually found only in men's restrooms at bus stations.

So here it is, Buffalo; your new and improved paper of irrelevance. Nothing hard to digest here-you'll find a new, positive outlook in almost all sections of The BEST, including optimistic editorials, innocuous features, new cockamamie theories on "how to save Buffalo," upbeat restaurant, movie and music reviews, and news of the fun, happy place that is our Queen City-no mild left behind! Advertisers, take note-we're ready for you now!

If an article, or indeed a single word, offends you in any way, please don't hesitate to contact The BEST offices, where we will not hesitate to beat the offending writer severely for trying to blow our ride. Already, the money is rolling in, and it's really only a matter of time before we outsource the bulk of our work to India, move to the pacific, and party away the rest of our days with ultra-hot editorial groupies while marketing drones man the old smelly office and glad-handle public officials. Who's laughing now, Buffalo?

All in all, it was an inevitability. We were just a little local paper-who were we to think we could change the world? Pissing people off is really just an attention-getting device, as any first-year psych major can tell you-all we needed was a little love, and now we're going to get it the easy way. When a dog wants attention, he can bark and whine, but he only gets a treat when he rolls over and plays dead. Well, Buffalo, here we go-keep those treats handy, and enjoy The BEST, Buffalo's New Best Friend!

Letters to the Evil Editors should be addressed to:
sic@buffalobeast.com