LISTERVILLE, Calif. — Tourists from across various southern California locales flocked to the sleepy town of Listerville outside of the Sequioa National Forest to witness the annual chemical garbage blooms emitting from Edendale Lake.
“We have photographers, TikTokers, podcasters, all sorts down here enjoying the fresh oil slick rainbows swirling atop our public ponds,” claimed Chuck Runyon, Director of the Department of Parks and Recreation. “Kids just love finding patterns in the poisoned algae. Plus, we’re introducing Trashy the mascot this year, a walking huggable garbage friend for tykes, made entirely out of repurposed vape cartridges. Tons to see here: we have a biology lab set up for grad students studying new bacterial life, also set up to examine the carnivorous plants swallowing up our bird population. Unfortunately, we’re unable to secure any food truck service due to the ‘7 o’clock stench.’ When the sun hits the water, this neighborhood experiences a mass hallucination.”
Pollutant enthusiast Laurel Pierce drove over 100 miles to see the chemical blooms in person.
“It’s like Burning Man, but much smaller, in a public park and with the worst smell you’ve ever encountered, riper than a forest wook,” said Pierce through her industrial-grade gas mask. “Nabbed parking, claimed a lawn spot at 6 am and have been here all day with my beach chair. Gonna get some high-res photos of the psychedelic swirls forming on the surface. If I can get up to the pipe where the runoff sludges into the water, I might capture ‘Heaven’s Stinky Trail,’ the local nickname for green smoke emanating out of the lake. Only happens at certain times of day. Can’t spend too much money out here, I’m really saving up to row out to the Great Pacific Garbage Patch–I hear the way the sunset reflects off the plastic out there is beautiful, man.”
However, not all are fans of the tourist hordes, including nearby resident Frank K. McSpahn.
“They come here and throw their own trash into the river, thinking it’ll add to the kaleidoscopic swirls,” complained McSpahn in front of his blocked driveway. “These folks come for a weekend, but we’re the ones left with the constant fires springing up from the water, the toxic bubbling springs, the 24/7 smell. Hell, these tourist greenhorns will even rent and paddle those swan boats out on the lake, when any local knows you need a hazmat suit. One time I saw a kid swimming in the lake. I remember yelling, ‘Get him out! It’s not safe!’ Next summer, I thought the family adopted a golden-doodle in their grief, but it was the same boy!”
At press time, the Tourism Board is considering the installation of lakeside bungalows along the shore, compatible with a fumigation tent to prevent skin-rot from exposure to the lake.