PNE Funhouse

The PNE funhouse is where the government keeps the fucked-up parallel versions of everyone during its off-season

By: Heidi Kwok, Staff Writer I’m driving past the PNE, as I do each morning on my way to work, when I catch a fragrant aroma gently creeping in through my driver-side window. My head swivels towards the scent as if under hypnosis. My nose sniffs the air aggressively, trying to pinpoint the source of the smell. Grilled hot dogs topped with cheddar, smoked paprika . . . am I getting a hint of green jalapeños? My boss is expecting me in half an hour to discuss a discrepancy in the pension fund, but it can wait — those hot…

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