“It’s cold outside but it’s warm in here,” FCPS lunch lady Carol Bennett says as she gives a beleaguered wave and points us to an open cafeteria seat. “The oven runs pretty hot so it gets a little toasty.” She is speaking with a mouthful of dough, cheese and sauce.

It’s been three hours now since Bennett was notified that Fayette County Schools would be cancelled due to cold temperatures. “No one told me when I got in this morning, and I was so cold from walking in that I decided to fire up the ovens and heat lamps a little early. By the time someone told me the kids weren’t coming in I’d already baked up about 200 rectangles here.”

In an effort to reduce any waste Bennett has taken it upon herself to finish all 200 of the otherwise useless square pizzas. “You know they’re not square pizzas, everyone calls them square pizzas, but, look, they’re actually rectangles. See how the length and width are not equidistant.” Bennett chews then chuckles and says, “Where are those smug math teachers on this?” Bennett’s laugh quickly turns into a loud and repeated cough.

“Feel free to take a pizza or two before you go,” she says as we stand up to leave. “There’s plenty here.” She gives a flirty look as she takes off her hairnet and shakes her head as she lets her hair down.

The cold is expected to pass soon and the children will return on Monday but for now the cafeteria is free of peering eyes.

New Year’s Resolutions are always difficult to keep even if you aren’t a heavily used highway surrounded on all sides by mall food courts and chain restaurants. “Anyone would struggle with their wait around here,” said Nicholasville Road.

The road began 2018 confident that it could finally lose some stalled traffic time if it tried really, really hard; but barely four days into the new year it admits the prospects are looking bleak.

“I was slick with champagne and BJ’s Brewpub fry grease that night,” said the road. “I should’ve been more realistic. Like just trying to get my pot holes under control.”

Traffic has always been heavy up and down Nicholasville Road but the addition of the Summit last year has only clogged things up further. “I’ve tried Magnesium, Nutralax, Fiber,” said the road. “Even fluctuating traffic lights. But nothing seems to help.”

City planning department spokesman Martha Cleek is even less optimistic than Nicholasville Road is about its ability to ease congestion. “College isn’t even back in session yet,” she said. “Some resolutions are meant to be broken.”

Then she lit a cigarette, shrugged, and began to beat her steering wheel senseless while the other drivers ahead and behind her did the same in a kind of beautiful symphony of late to work.

Many Kentuckians are without internet this morning as the fiber internet pipes have frozen over, causing some to reduce themselves to reading the newspaper over the sink in an attempt to be somewhat informed before work.

“A little bit of the Herald Leader and another coat of deodorant and no one will know the difference,” said LEX18 anchor Hayley Harmon.

Governor Matt Bevin told reporters that he made a mistake last night when he forgot to leave his live stream going overnight but promised he would not make that mistake again. “I plan on doing a Fireside Chat every night for the rest of the winter,” Bevin said. “Literally as close to the fire as I can get. I need to warm up these poor, rich bones.”

The many miles of internet cables that crisscross the Bluegrass State are now clogged with ice and backed up fire emojis. The internet stoppage has affected Lexington particularly harshly. A pipe burst on Short Street and flooded Cheapside Pavilion in Facebook likes and Trojan horses.

“We’ve been working around the clock to clean up all the memes and statuses that spilled,” said former Vice Mayor Jim Gray. “Hopefully once we get this repaired people will have a greater appreciation for high speed internet and learn not to look a gif horse in the mouth.”

Bevin called Spectrum to complain about the internet stoppage first thing this morning. A customer service agent told him they couldn’t just push a button and fix everything. Bevin told her he had a really big button on his desk that could fix anything. “Especially the pension system.”

“Is it a nuclear button?” asked the Spectrum employee.

“No,” replied Bevin. “One of those easy buttons from Staples. I just replaced all the keys on my keyboard so I have a new clear button, as well as a different space bar and everything. Actually, I’ve got a lot of buttons.” Bevin then added, “But not like the Matt Lauer one.”

“Still undefeated! Go on, go back to your little neurosurgery operating room,” proctologist Colon Elliot taunts as he fishes a bean bag with expert precision from a hole cut in a wooden board. This is the scene at the UK HealthCare tailgate as doctors have begun playing cornhole on boards designed like the old Operation games. The highly skilled medical professionals found regular cornhole too simple.

“Hey, we’re having a rematch!” shouts neurosurgeon Brian Putamen as he heads back to the surgical team’s grill to flip the hot dogs. “Next time it’s House rules,” said his competitor. “You write a prescription with one hand and toss the bag and diagnose uncommon diseases with the other.”

The Operation cornhole boards have, in a very short time, become exceedingly popular with hospital physicians. “Regular cornhole? That’s med school stuff,” said one doctor as he fished a bean bag from one of several holes cut into the cartoon figure on the board. “It’s more challenging this way. One hole? Heck, I’m a doctor of ears, noses and throats, that’s 5 openings right there.”

Papa John’s founder John Schnatter announced to employees that he is stepping down as CEO and introduced them to their new Stepdad Steve only a few days before Christmas. “You did nothing wrong,” Schnatter told his workplace children, or, as he fondly refers to them as, his ‘minimum wagies’.

Schnatter became embroiled in controversy on social media earlier this year when he claimed that the reason Papa John’s sales had suffered was because of NFL players not standing for the National Anthem even though a long term financial advisor told him it was a real thin crust move.

“Everyone hates to lose a relationship,” said Schnatter, to his assembled marinara minions, “but Steve’s a good guy.” He pulled a Peyton Manning jersey from his breast pocket and wiped a tear from his eye. “I know he’ll treat her better than I ever could -” The rest of his statement was muffled by him blowing his nose.

Stepdad Steve Ritchie will attempting to fill Papa John’s shoes, mostly with tickets to baseball games and a new bicycle. “You don’t have to call me Papa,” he said to his new step-workers, “but you must respect me.” Then he told the pizza boys that they were going to have two Christmases this year.

“You’re not our real dad!” yelled 52 year old pizza delivery driver and Star Wars mega-fan Ernie Fannin, shortly before he stormed out of the meeting. Stepdad Steve chased after him and they had a real heartfelt conversation by the cheesestick fountain.

The meeting ended with a ritualistic dimming of the lights and a sinister chanting of, “Papa has fallen, long live Papa!”

Schnatter isn’t too worried about the resignation. “It’ll give me time to focus more on my ham radio hobby,” he said, as static bristled through a rusty CB radio that sat upon a desk with ivory tusks for legs. “Papa John 3, this is Papa John 1, do you copy?”

“I’ve known John a long time, and I know he’ll land on his feet,” shouted Stepdad Steve from the passenger seat of Papa John III, the company’s executive helicopter. “Especially since he’s a billionaire!”

Few believe the move will finally lead to better pizza. “Stepdad Steve doesn’t really cook,” said an executive who wished to remain anonymous. “He’s just been serving everyone Totino’s pizza rolls.”

Ballerina Harper Addison put on a show-stopping performance at the Lexington Opera House’s presentation of The Nutcracker. Now she’s hoping the skills learned for the classic holiday fantasy will transfer to a new venue: the JIF peanut butter plant.

“Sometimes you have to put your dreams on hold for a more stable career,” Addison said before she Grand Jete’d over an open vat of peanut butter. “I’m looking forward to being on my feet all day. Rather than just on the tips of my toes all day.” She wears a pair of slip resistant, OSHA approved, ballet shoes as she guides a pallet jack of unlabelled jars. “I’m comfortable working first shift, second, or fifth position.”

More senior JIF employees have been welcoming but her transition from the stage to the shop floor hasn’t been a perfect pirouette. “She kept asking where the Rat King is,” said 10 year JIF technician Seamus Ortiz. “I told her not to let management hear her say that. But we usually find him in between sorting and jarring. We just call him ‘Mr. Peanut’. Big sucker. Only got one eye.”

There were also some minor dress code violations until she insisted that her tutu and tights were not leggings and had in fact been sewn in France. The HR department eventually caved after Addison claimed they were “necessary for her continued inspiration.”

Overall though, the one time Sugar Plum Fairy has transitioned smoothly into her new role. “There is a correspondence between the factory and the ballet studio,” says Addison. “Both require practiced motions be delivered with exquisite accuracy. Though only one requires at least a GED.”

Children stand in line holding paperwork in their hands waiting to speak to Santa Clause. Santa’s little helpers require from each child one of three forms of ID: enrollment paperwork, a private school voucher, or a super private school wrist-embedded microchip.

“Santa is non-denominational,” said Summit spokesperson Pierre Haughte. “Any child from any private school is welcome. Catholic, Christian, however, children from a Montessori program will get first priority.”

Most of the children who visit Santa at the Summit want Bitcoin. Mr. Kringle says he really appreciates kids that practice pragmatic investments. “I made my fortune investing in the coal industry myself.”

Each morning, Santa strolls into the Summit wearing a crushed velvet Santa suit emblazoned with the Brooks Brothers logo and a pair of $35 Christmas horse socks from Kentucky for Kentucky. His signature wire-rimmed bifocals have been replaced by modern Warby Parker frames. He takes his seat at an authentic reindeer hide throne. He carries a cane with a golden reindeer bone handle and a red ruby jewel for its nose.

Yesterday, a child was removed from Santa’s lap and escorted off the premises by an elf after asking for something from Old Navy. “Look,” said Santa, “Vineyard Vines is the bottom of what we will accept here in terms of clothes requests.” After the boy was removed, Santa took a brief break to change into a spare suit.

One overly hopeful child hoped to improve his chances of getting what he wanted by promising Santa he would leave gluten free cookies and soy milk for him. “Add the three most recent issues of The New Yorker,” replied Santa, “and we’ll see.”

Afterwards, a girl in a Big Blue UK sweatsuit got in line, which has complimentary mocha latte’s and Wall Street Journals. An elf equipped with a Bluetooth earpiece blocked her. “Excuse me,” the elf said in a fake English accent, “you are Fayette Mall material.”