Watervliet Man's Erratic Behavior Tied To Lights Over Coeymans
By Dodie Fingerton
Published May 7th, 2017
Martin Dungaree, "Coeymans' Paper Plant," 2017, mashed potatoes on plate,
Musee d'Selkrik, Selkirk, NY.
WATERVLIET — The wife of a National Grid field technician called in to investigate a large-scale power outage in southern Albany County last week is worried that her husband may have lost his mind that night while trying to find Coeymans.
Marie Dungaree of Watervliet said her husband, Martin — who was on call Monday night when a system of “thunderstorms” rolled through Ravena, Selkirk and Coeymans — returned home in the early hours of the morning with a sudden urge to fashion three-dimensional objects out of mashed potatoes.
“Martin got home around 2 a.m.,” said the frantic mother of three. “He was upset and babbling about the bright lights he saw near a railway crossing outside Coeymans. Then, the next thing I know he's sculpting weird shit out of the leftovers, and the children are crying.”
The Smudge caught up to the be-robed 44-year-old electrical lineman as he was shoving rabbit-proof fencing through the basement window of his Blossom Avenue home.
“Who are you people?” he demanded after being asked if he was experiencing any migraines, irritation of the eyes or sinuses, or hives or burns on one side of his body. “I want to speak to someone in charge. I want to lodge a complaint. You have no right to make people crazy. What the hell is going on around here?”
Dungaree seemed surprised to learn the giant model he was constructing in his basement looked like the Petite Sirah Paper Mill in Coeymans.
“Yes!” he screamed. “That makes perfect sense!”
Petite Sirah, which drives a large portion of Coeymans' economy, denied any connection to the strange occurrences recently reported in town, including the case of five UPS drivers who disappeared while delivering to the area last week.
However, allegations of a cover-up continue to swirl after the loose leaf giant recently claimed responsibility for a November 2016 incident involving a cymbal-bashing toy monkey that suddenly activated in the middle of the night, much to the chagrin of the single mom of a toe-headed toddler living in a nearby farmhouse.
“Okay, the monkey was us,” Francois Balaban, a spokesman for the company said as he hand-gestured over a repeating five-note tonal phrase. “But we had nothing to do with Mr. Dungaree or the missing men. Honestly, where do you get your stories?”
In completely unrelated news, an area-wide quarantine continues to restrict travel around Coeymans as health officials grapple with a deadly outbreak of anthrax that has decimated large portions of the area's livestock.