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Hamas Leader Demands One True RingInjured Yassin outlines radical new Mideast peace plan September 29, 2003 |
Gaza City, Palestine Snapper McGee Sheikh Ahmed Yassin waits in line with other costumed fans for the 2001 premiere of LoTR: The Fellowship of the Ring heikh Ahmed Yassin, founder of the Islamic militant movement Hamas, came out of hiding today to reject calls for a cease-fire with Israel. Yassin instead issued an impassioned demand that he be given the "Ring of Power," with which the Muslim cleric would rule the hearts of men and bring about Mideast peace through the total annihilation of all who would oppose him.
The wheelchair-bound militant leader spoke at a Gaza City mosque, flanked by Hamas bodyguards while making his first public appearance since nearly being killed earlier this week during Israeli air strikes.
"The time for playing games has ended," announced Yassin, gesturing to his rickety wheelchair with a resigned shrug.
"Israel can take my legs, but we will take the legs of their countr...
heikh Ahmed Yassin, founder of the Islamic militant movement Hamas, came out of hiding today to reject calls for a cease-fire with Israel. Yassin instead issued an impassioned demand that he be given the "Ring of Power," with which the Muslim cleric would rule the hearts of men and bring about Mideast peace through the total annihilation of all who would oppose him.
The wheelchair-bound militant leader spoke at a Gaza City mosque, flanked by Hamas bodyguards while making his first public appearance since nearly being killed earlier this week during Israeli air strikes.
"The time for playing games has ended," announced Yassin, gesturing to his rickety wheelchair with a resigned shrug.
"Israel can take my legs, but we will take the legs of their country! And eat them, like they were legs of chickens. Delicious Israeli chicken legs!" shouted Yassin, rubbing his tummy in a satisfied gesture. The largely Muslim crowd present cheered to show their support for chicken.
"And we will eat their wings and nuggets when we are done feasting on the drumsticks of oppression!" Yassin continued, making a face described by several onlookers as "kinda goofy-crazy."
Hamas has refused to give up its arms and join the government of incoming Palestinian prime minister Ahmed Qorei, citing the August 22nd assassination of Hamas co-founder Ismail Abu Shanab as the latest unpardonable gaffe in Israeli-Hamas relations.
"In spite of the truce, the Israeli enemy did not stop its aggression, its massacres and its destructions for one moment after we bombed that bus full of children," added Yassin, refreshingly devoid of irony.
"Israel continues their aggressions and the United States has declared war on Islam," Yassin explained, referring to U.S. President Bush's recent "Let's Go to War with Islam" speech. "But Islam will be victorious, because it is stronger than Bush and his country. Or at least it will be once I have the One True Ring and take my place as the King of All Men. The infidels will scatter like cockroaches because I will be a huge Muslim man and they will be small like cockroaches, and I will be stomping on them. Look out."
Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat expressed regret that discussions with Hamas leaders had taken this unfortunate turn into Lord of the Rings-themed dementia, greatly complicating hopes for stability and a lasting peace in the region.
Meanwhile, a group of 27 Israeli air force reserve pilots signed a petition refusing to carry out air strikes against Palestinian targets, citing apprehension about being on the wrong side when Yassin "gets that ring and starts kicking wholesale ass like an unstoppable 9-foot-tall voodoo zealot." the commune news once made our own play for the Ring of Power, but were foiled when the ring-bearer we intercepted turned out to be an adorable tot gone missing from a local wedding. Still waiting for him to be claimed, by the way. Long-dead reporter Mordecai "Three Finger" Brown has finally found a useful niche at the commune, serving as the only reporter on staff who can find the Middle East on a map and is still willing to travel there. Refreshingly, he also has no issue with the legroom in coach.
 | Dateline NBC Blows Up Bridge to Prove Point September 29, 2003 |
Delmont residents evacuate in case of a special report on nursing homes ederal authorities are weighing criminal charges against the Dateline NBC staff members who blew up the Wakasakpie River bridge in Delmont, Wisconsin on Sunday, despite claims from NBC that the terrorist act was merely part of an investigative piece on homeland security. NBC is calling for all charges to be dropped in relation to the incident, which caused over $10 million in damage and left seven dead in the small Wisconsin town.
“In our view, we do not believe we are in violation of the law, because it was not our intent to cause mayhem or destruction,” said NBC News President Neal Shapiro. “Those were merely inevitable side-effects of blowing up a crowded midtown bridge. We were just testing the system.”
According to the video footage shot for an...
ederal authorities are weighing criminal charges against the Dateline NBC staff members who blew up the Wakasakpie River bridge in Delmont, Wisconsin on Sunday, despite claims from NBC that the terrorist act was merely part of an investigative piece on homeland security. NBC is calling for all charges to be dropped in relation to the incident, which caused over $10 million in damage and left seven dead in the small Wisconsin town. “In our view, we do not believe we are in violation of the law, because it was not our intent to cause mayhem or destruction,” said NBC News President Neal Shapiro. “Those were merely inevitable side-effects of blowing up a crowded midtown bridge. We were just testing the system.” According to the video footage shot for an upcoming episode of the NBC News program, staffers received little resistance while rigging the bridge with enormous quantities of high-powered explosives. The lax security did not mean the production was without its difficulties, however, as curious locals were constantly asking “Whatcha doin’?” and a nosy Wisconsin state trooper had to be tied to a large boulder and pushed into the river after being knocked unconscious by Dateline NBC staff members. “It really makes you think,” said victim Dennis Tyson, nursing a severed arm. “If reporters could do this, just imagine what the bad guys could do if they had a whole crew of people and NBC funding behind them.” As part of a Dateline NBC special report titled “Achilles Heel,” the investigative piece succeeded in exposing security loopholes in this northern Wisconsin town, as reporters were able to destroy the bridge after telling local authorities they were in town to tape a fictitious segment entitled “Who Has All the Beanie Babies?” Authorities authorized the crew’s presence after recognizing Dateline NBC reporter Sara James, and then being pistol-whipped and corralled into a back room at gunpoint. These latest journalistic terror actions came on the heels of reports earlier this month that several ABC reporters successfully smuggled 15 pounds depleted uranium into Los Angeles from Jakarta, Indonesia. Although it was unclear what the arrested reporters had intended to do with the uranium, industry observers unanimously agreed that a domestic thermonuclear explosion would have been awesome for ratings. The events in Los Angeles and Wisconsin have led some federal officials to suggest that the greatest threat to national security may currently be domestic investigative news shows. Unconfirmed reports have staff members of ABC’s 60 Minutes changing cars on an hourly basis in an attempt to foil increased federal surveillance efforts, so that they might still bring America a special report on why Harry Potter is so popular. NBC heads have yet to say how the arrests will effect their plans to fly three hijacked airliners into rival ABC’s network headquarters as a test of national security on the upcoming season finale of Dateline NBC. the commune news admittedly has a terrible track-record when it comes to investigative journalism, though we did once trick the mayor of Chillicothe, OH into sitting on a toilet seat that was covered in superglue. Few could blame us for giving up after we tried to get reporter Ramon Nootles to fix a greyhound race last year, only to have that moron mistake the laxative dog treats for Keebler cookies and spend the entire race clinging to a men’s room toilet for dear life.
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 May 31, 2004 And Justice for NothingThat Jerry Nascar is a dangerous motherfucker. Dangerous as in smart. And, he plays with fireworks and only has a total of seven fingers. But I wasn't talking about that at all—I just mean he's smart.
My trial started three weeks ago, the libel case, where I'm being sued by Jayme Kristofson for calling her words I shouldn't repeat here. Not until I win, and can say them wherever I damn well please. It's an inevitability with Jerry Nascar as my attorney. This guy must have taken every law class they have at Pine Bluffs Community College, 'cause he knows all the tricks. He parked his car in a handicapped space in front of the courthouse and then put a sign on it saying "no engine." How ingenious is that? Technically, the car is handicapped now. That's what lawyers call a "loo...
º Last Column: Ransom, Lose Some º more columns
That Jerry Nascar is a dangerous motherfucker. Dangerous as in smart. And, he plays with fireworks and only has a total of seven fingers. But I wasn't talking about that at all—I just mean he's smart.
My trial started three weeks ago, the libel case, where I'm being sued by Jayme Kristofson for calling her words I shouldn't repeat here. Not until I win, and can say them wherever I damn well please. It's an inevitability with Jerry Nascar as my attorney. This guy must have taken every law class they have at Pine Bluffs Community College, 'cause he knows all the tricks. He parked his car in a handicapped space in front of the courthouse and then put a sign on it saying "no engine." How ingenious is that? Technically, the car is handicapped now. That's what lawyers call a "loophole." And Jerry's got more holes than he knows what to do with.
It was Jerry's idea I wear the neckbrace—which I would have done if I had gone to court for a traffic accident, I'm no dummy, but Jerry says you can get neck injuries from anything, even emotional stress, and it never hurts to get crowd sympathy. The judge has even gotten mad at Jerry because he talks to the gallery instead of her, turning to the large number of people and saying stuff like, "You can see what all this huss'n'fuss has done to my client's verbitry—her neck is all outta a-whackment."
Jerry loves surprise witnesses. Sometimes I think they're more for his sake than for mine. He calls people out of the phone book ahead of time and gets them to show up, but they have no idea why. That's the surprise. So they get up there and Jerry asks them questions about what they do, what's their area of expertise. Then the questions get real juicy—do you own any sexy underwear? Have you gone all the way on the first date? You would be surprised how far he gets before the judge says the witness has no relevancy. But you gotta admire his guts.
But he's doing Jayme some damage, too. He somehow wrangled it where Jayme had to wear the Metallichick costume on the stand, and then asked her if she thought she had the figure to pull it off. Under oath, she completely broke down and admitted she didn't. That's got to help the case, if the Honor can look at the big picture.
Jerry may have finally crossed the line last week when he announced he was calling witnesses from the Kennedy assassination to "put this whole mess to rest, once and for all." The judge told him she was sick of his bullshit, so to speak, and demanded he make his final arguments for this particular case, after which she was going to talk to the Bar Association and find out just what bar they held their meetings at. But that was all fine, a bit of a slump for Jerry, but he started into the final summary of the case.
When Jerry launched his closing arguments, brilliance is the only word that comes to mind. He approached the jury and his hands clapped together, then moved to his waist, then waved in the air, then clapped together again. And his words were good, too. He said something like, "What is a 'dildo,' ladies and gentleman of the jury? Who doesn't like a dildo? Tell me that. I fail to see where my client's compliment can even be misconstructed as an insult. Plus, I think if you knew her, you would have called her dildo. Everyone knows she's a pain in the ass."
At that point the judge had to tell Jerry it wasn't a jury trial, and he was delivering his closing remarks to the plaintiff table. Jayme didn't look none too happy, but was too busy crying to tell him off. It's all incidental, I'm sure. I got a good feeling this thing's going to go my way, if the judge ever gets back from deliberating. Or maybe she did, while I was writing this column—do any of you dildos have the time? º Last Column: Ransom, Lose Someº more columns | 
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Milestones1988: Future commune staff photographer Junior Bacon takes a photo that shocks the nation, until experts determine that the Sasquatch-looking thing in the picture is actually future commune editor Red Bagel.Now HiringExperienced Spelunker. Needed to find a way into Ned Nedmiller's office and see if there's anyone still alive in there. Ability to speak Dutch a plus.Top-Selling Pamphlet Books1. | Women Who Are Happy with Their Weight | 2. | The Reagan Memoirs | 3. | The Joy of British Cooking | 4. | A Complete Guide to Montana's Gay Bars | 5. | The Tao of Vince Lombardi | |
|   Father of H-bomb Dead at 95  BY red bagel 4/19/2004 A Fist Full of Tannenbaum Chapter 4: Different Day, Same BulletsEditor's Note: Jed Foster and sidekick Reilly have found their lockbox, for whatever it matters. But before the story could be successfully closed, some asshole named Fango popped in, with a buddy and a gun.
Projectiles projected everywhere as Jed and Reilly ducked for cover, behind a duck. But the yellow-belly mallard skirted away from the firefight, leaving Jed and Reilly scrambling. The two flipped a table on its side, spilling salt and pepper shakers and dumping a plate of bread, and shielded themselves behind it.
"It's amazing we haven't been hit yet!" shrieked Reilly.
"Yep, better to not let the reader dwell on it." Jed drew a handgun from his belt and pulled back the trigger. "You packing heat?"
"My balls are a little s...
Editor's Note: Jed Foster and sidekick Reilly have found their lockbox, for whatever it matters. But before the story could be successfully closed, some asshole named Fango popped in, with a buddy and a gun.
Projectiles projected everywhere as Jed and Reilly ducked for cover, behind a duck. But the yellow-belly mallard skirted away from the firefight, leaving Jed and Reilly scrambling. The two flipped a table on its side, spilling salt and pepper shakers and dumping a plate of bread, and shielded themselves behind it.
"It's amazing we haven't been hit yet!" shrieked Reilly.
"Yep, better to not let the reader dwell on it." Jed drew a handgun from his belt and pulled back the trigger. "You packing heat?"
"My balls are a little sweaty, but other than that, I'm alright," Reilly said. He brandished a weapon. "Thank God for my reliable thirty-eight."
"Amen to that!" said Jed. Then, in a John Woo-esque display of imaginative poetic violence, he leapt aside from the table, firing well-targeted shells into the henchman not given a name. The anonymous drone cried out weakly and tumbled to the floor.
Fango, startled by his partner's demise, hugged the wall—a little too tightly, you ask me. He fired a barrage to keep Jed pinned behind a pile of dustbunnys, where he had taken cover. Rats! he might have thought. In one swift, commendable move, Jed had halved his enemy's numbers and put him in a fight with two fronts.
Before Fango had a chance to articulate his respect in the form of applause, or perhaps a "bravo!" Reilly had rolled the table toward him until it solidly crunched his foot. The big toe—no way to get out of a big toe hold. Jed crossed the floor quickly, a little less graceful than before, but nobody's complaining, and held the gun to Fango's temple.
"Well, well, well, old friend," said Jed, "it looks like things are going my way now."
"Damn your sharp wits and manly beauty, Foster!" snapped Fango, throwing his gun to the ground. "I told them not to saddle me with that unnamed flunky! That slacker always goes down the first bullet anybody fires."
"They? So you are working for someone?" asked Jed.
"Drat!" cursed Fango. "I fell for your clever trap!"
"Not really a trap, I didn't even bring it up. You did."
"Then apparently I'm just a bigmouth." Fango ran a finger along his waxed mustache. "Yes, Jed, it's true. I work for Ostrich now."
"Ostrich!" exclaimed Reilly, who hadn't said anything for a few minutes. "The giant flightless bird who buries its head in the sand or the elite corporate oligarchy who really makes all the decisions that affect the world?"
"That's the one."
"The bird?"
"The oligarchy.
"Ah. That makes more sense."
"We don't have time for this," interrupted Jed, although actually they did and he just didn't want to hear it. Jed held the lockbox aloft for them to see and rattled it. "Ostrich can do what it likes now. We've got the lockbox, and we're not giving it up without a fight."
"Oh, it will be a fight, I assure you, Jed Foster," said Fango, smiling ominously, with bad teeth. "In fact, keeping that lockbox out of the hands of the world's most powerful group will be the fight of your life!"
Jed and Reilly made haste as they left the cabin and started down the mountain, leaving Fango to clean up the place before calling for a helicopter service to pick him up.
Next Chapter: Surprise Truck   |