Piss City

The window of the inn looks out on the narrow street. It’s opaque with smudged filth. The preference of the citizens of Pinkeln. In German, “pinkeln” translates to “piss,” but in Pinkelnian translates to “pleasant city in a pleasant valley.” Do mention this to a denizen of Pinkeln. They hate humor.

Ironic considering the culture of Pinkeln is built entirely on the scaffolding of irony. The pleasant town isn’t located in a pleasant valley, but instead on an unpleasantly flat volcanic plain. The city itself isn’t pleasant. It’s cramped and dingy, with cheap architecture just tall enough to obscure the sun.

A yellow miasma blankets Pinkeln, as a result of being located downstream from a noxious acid lake called “Piss Lake.” In English, “Piss Lake” translates to “Lake of Piss,” but in Pinkelnian means “a very pleasant blue lake full of fish.”

At sunrise, the miasma is a fine, transparent mist. As the day progresses, the yellow becomes brighter and more sickly. By sunset, a thick, brownish fog chokes Pinkeln and its inhabitants. Each night, every citizen furiously drinks water until sunrise, as they believe rehydrating themselves rehydrates the city, and leads to the healthier transparent mist of the morning.

In the center of the city is a crude statue of its founder. The monument is made of rusty corrugated metal, which is the most prized and expensive material in Pinkeln. Beneath the monument is a placard that reads “Herr Sherman Klump.”

Sherman Klump, the founder of Pinkeln, was a German urologist and Professor of Urology at the University of Tübingen. By all accounts, Professor Klump was a man who loved to have a laugh. Eventually he abandoned his career in medicine and academia and moved to an abandoned plain by the toxic Piss Lake, where he founded Pinkeln and crafted the Pinkelnian language. A city and language built entirely as an inside joke. From all over, men and women who loved to “have a laugh” arrived, and started their new life in Pinkeln. They giggled at the filthy windows and struggled to keep from spitting their water out as they chugged each night.

Professor Klump and the original settlers died with smiles on their faces. Their children continued on in the storied tradition of Pinkeln, their pleasant city in their pleasant valley. Today, the people of Pinkeln are the most sincere in the world, and the most dedicated to upholding cultural tradition. They weep at the foot of the monument to Professor Klump, choked by yellow mist.