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A Shocking Turn Of Events

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Cannon Overshoots Tim Kaine Across Wells Fargo Center

PHILADELPHIA—Noting that the vice presidential nominee had been launched nearly 100 feet into the air during his entrance into the Democratic National Convention Wednesday night, sources reported that the cannon at the back of the Wells Fargo Center had accidentally overshot Tim Kaine across the arena, sending him crashing to the stage several dozen feet beyond the erected safety net.

Wow, Dad Really Went From Zero To 60 With Woodworking This Summer

PAGE, AZ—Expressing their astonishment as they once again heard the sound of their father using his circular saw in the garage despite his seemingly complete lack of interest in the craft prior to last month, the children of area man Sam Morgan, 52, confirmed Tuesday that, wow, their dad had really gone from zero to 60 with woodworking this summer.

Who Is Tim Kaine?

Virginia senator Tim Kaine will be Hillary Clinton’s running mate on the Democratic Party ticket in the 2016 presidential election. Here’s what you need to know about Kaine

Lone Superdelegate Voting For Martin O’Malley Feels Like Total Fucking Idiot

PHILADELPHIA—Sheepishly raising his hand to nominate the man who suspended his presidential campaign back in February, unpledged delegate Bob Shiefke told reporters Tuesday he felt like a “total fucking idiot” for being the only person at the Democratic National Convention voting for former Maryland governor Martin O’Malley.
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A Shocking Turn Of Events

Having nearly been shot to pieces by an impudent member of the yeoman class, Standish and I fled in terror across the valley. I ask you, what-ever happened to the milk of human kindness? Strip a man of his fortune and status, and suddenly he is a marked man, the target of antipathy of every shape and stripe!

What I wouldn't have given to be back on the Zweibel Estate in my cozy death-bed, squatting over my jewel-encrusted bed-pan. Instead, I was forced to fend for my-self in the wild against rabid bob-cats and carnivorous trees.

By night-fall, Standish and I had finally managed to retreat to the wooded ridge. It was sad to look at Standish, who was but a hollow semblance of his former self. His once-immaculate livery was stained with dirt and covered with brambles and nettles. I saw my own reflection in a small puddle of water and could not believe how ghastly I looked. I'm 132 years old, but I looked more like 146!

I had finally come to the end. All in all, it had been a nice life. I had been the publisher of the Republic's finest news-paper; how many can claim that? I also had my own private slaughter-house and a giant oil portrait of Kaiser Wilhelm. And I once kissed Sophie Tucker square on the lips. But now, it was all over. "Let us go to the top of the ridge," I told Standish, "and cast ourselves off. The world no longer needs T. Herman Zweibel, nor his man-servant."

We started up the ridge, but as we progressed, the woods grew thicker and darker. The moon disappeared, and we realized we had taken a wrong turn. We were about to reverse our steps, when we noticed, directly ahead of us, a flaming torch. Approaching the torch, we found that its light revealed a well-trodden path. We followed the path and discovered a long row of evenly spaced torches beside it. "This must lead to some kind of camp, Standish," I said. "Proceed with caution. A posse could be lying in wait for us."

The sound of music and laughter grew louder. Eventually, we came upon a clearing and ducked behind a bush to conceal our-selves. Nothing could have prepared us for what we saw in that clearing.

It was my vast fortune! My gold bullion! My diamonds! My chalices! My frankincense! My diadems! My six Excaliburs!

And, more shocking still, frolicking and cavorting in the middle of it all... the thieving highway-man Black Scarlet!!! ...and Mr. Tin!!!

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