GEPCO officials announced today that power has been restored to all customers affected by the December blizzard that crippled much of Down County in 2014. That blizzard, dubbed Dong, was the worst snowstorm in a hundred years and was particularly savage at higher elevations along the Quagmire Summit and Watersbad Canyon Pass where residents (savage themselves) were buried in five feet of snow.
Thirteen months later, they’re finally getting their power back.
“We know this hasn’t been easy,” sighed GEPCO CEO Aubry Bancroft from the steps of his posh downtown headquarters. “And we regret any inconvenience this loss of service has had on our customers. But our crews have been working night and day this last… uh… year… and I for one would like to congratulate them for a job well done.”
A loosely-formed residents’ group hurled growls at the CEO (the universal language of displeasure in Quagmire) and hoisted bronze-age implements to vent their rage. “Yomyrzkqilo! Ptwahgbnipi!” they shouted in a menacing dialect. “Gklojki! Proust!”
Bancroft retreated to his office and a line of Ramsey deputies stood fast to guard the building.
“Gklojki! Proust!” the residents continued, babbling as if anyone understood their crude vernacular. “Gklojki! Proust!”
Within an hour the streets were cleared and the Quagmirians were gone, presumably back in their re-electrified hovels. But their menacing moment, though weird, was not altogether an outlier. In fact it was just the latest in a string of public outbursts that have followed the controversial 2010 merger that saw Flubug Electric, Down County Gas, Stateline Phone and Mullah’s Cable & Bhurka Emporium fused into one conglomerate.
At the time the merger was billed as a way to lower prices by “streamlining” the county’s utilities. But that promise never materialized. Instead, its resulted in hundreds of layoffs and thousands of consumer complaints about service, pitiful response times and a call center that isn’t even connected to the company.
“You call to complain and you get some joker from Yee’s Appliances trying to sell you a stove,” gripes Lupe Robatto, menudo chef at Wild Bills.
“Even when you shut everything off you still get a bill,” says Sharon Piggles, a homeschooler whose work at My Little Pony Daycare forced her to relocate to Quagmire Summit.
“It almost makes me wish Mullah was back in business,” says Mullah’s wife who denies her husband is part of a terror cell in Graphite Cornerz. “Things made sense in those days.”