Picking a name for Industry’s NFL team? That’s hard work

So, as you may have heard, the latest plan to attract an NFL franchise is to build a stadium in the City of Industry. I’m sure the citizens of Industry -- there were 700 of them in the 2000 census -- are excited.

But the question is: What to call the new team?

Can’t be the Industry Rams, the Industry Raiders or the Industry Chargers, obviously, because those nicknames were taken by local franchises that vamoosed.

Well, the world of fiction has a few suggestions.

In “Bump and Run,” a novel by Mike Lupica, the NFL expansion team here is the L.A. Bangers. “Everybody knew the nickname was short for Gangbangers,” Lupica wrote, “though nobody would come right out and say it.”

And then there was the movie “The Garbage Picking Field Goal Kicking Philadelphia Phenomenon,” in which trash-man-turned-football star Tony Danza makes a reference to L.A.’s team. He says: “We’re the Philadelphia Eagles, not the Los Angeles Whatevers.”

I like the Valley-girl sound of the Whatevers.

Make that: San Gabriel Valley-girl sound.

Whatevers (cont.): The sad thing is that the NFL’s Tennessee franchise took the best name. Otherwise, we could have a team called the Titans of Industry.

Fight on, Industry! If the build-a-stadium-for-an-NFL-team report seems familiar, it may be because you recall similar proposals for football fields at such locations as Hollywood Park, Irwindale (in one of the lovely gravel pits) and Carson (in a former toxic waste dump).

Business mogul Michael Ovitz unveiled plans for the Carson stadium, which was to be called the Hacienda and would feature six mission bells that would sound whenever the home team scored a touchdown.

Alas, the NFL wouldn’t face the music.

Unclear on the concept: Randy Holt of Burbank noticed a dentist’s office that apparently needs to be notified a few days in advance if you’re going to have a sudden toothache (see photo).

Menu item of the day: In Israel, Gloria Greengard found a restaurant where a hamburger is served along with a panhandler (see photo).

Dessert item: What to do if you’re pulled over by a cop? Ryan Patrick, a police officer in Central California, recommends handing over his creation, the Anti-Ticket Donut (see photo).

The way he figures it, you could keep the fake pastry in your glove compartment. Then, when you’re confronted, you could say something like: “I can’t find my car’s registration. I only have this tasty doughnut.”

Cost of the ersatz sweet is $8.75 (or $105 a dozen, if you want to get some for the gang at the office).

It’s possible Patrick means it as a gag gift.

The small print on the container says that the Anti-Ticket Donut “will probably not get you out of a ticket. In fact, its use will probably guarantee a ticket or a trip to the pokey.”

Unclear on the concept (II): Jerry Hill of Anaheim chanced upon a shop advertising a “genuine fake watch” in Turkey (see photo). Now, I have heard of signs for a “genuine fake Rolex.” But a fake watch? Does that mean it doesn’t tell time?

Sounds as useful as the Anti-Ticket Donut.

miscellany: I hinted that I deserved a Pulitzer Prize for my coverage of Chicken Boy, the former plaster mascot of a fast-food joint, who has a new life in Highland Park atop the Future Studio design shop. Bob Sell said that considering Chicken Boy’s genetic makeup, I’d more likely be a candidate for a Pullet Surprise.

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Steve Harvey can be reached at (800) LATIMES, Ext. 77083; by fax at (213) 237-4712; by mail at Metro, L.A. Times, 202 W. 1st St., L.A. 90012; and by e-mail at steve.harvey@latimes.com.