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Down With The League Of Nations

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360 Tour: Inside The RNC

The Onion invites you to explore our view from the floor of the 2016 Republican National Convention in Cleveland.

Good Guy With Gun, Bad Guy With Gun Both Excited To Unload Firearm In Crowd Outside Arena

CLEVELAND—As each of them looked around at the people gathered outside Quicken Loans Arena and fantasized about unholstering their weapon and taking aim directly at others, both a good guy with a gun and a bad guy with a gun attending the Republican National Convention reportedly worked themselves into a heightened state of excitement Thursday at the thought of unloading their firearm into the crowd.

Bob Dole Picked Off By Large Hawk Circling Arena Parking Lot

CLEVELAND—Describing how the bird of prey suddenly dived down from the sky at high velocity, sources confirmed Thursday that former GOP presidential nominee Bob Dole was picked off by a large red-tailed hawk circling above the Quicken Loans Arena parking lot.
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Down With The League Of Nations

This blasted League Of Nations folly is about what I'd expect from that devious bastard President Wilson, meddling in foreign affairs when he should be attending to more important matters! What about all these damned Irish and He-brews and Po-lacks who are swarming into our great Re-public and ointment! Ointment! OINTMENT!

What? Why did I say that? It had nothing to do with the subject at hand. Odd. Well, any-way, to hell with all these consarned Europeans, who think they can come to our shores and tell us up-standing natives what to do with our OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT OINTMENT!

Oh, no. But it can't be! Not OINTMENT now! Oh, dear! It is happening!

Nurse! I'm afflicted with that malady again! The one that makes me say "ointment" over and over!

Ointment. OINTMENT OINTMENT!

Drat it all! I haven't caught "the Ointments" in nearly 15 years! I assumed I was immune by now! In fact, Doc McGillicuddy assured me that the likelihood of OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT!

My God, that shook me to my very core. I don't know if I can bear this. When I was a man of 117, yes. But I'm not as strong as I once was, and...

Oh, no, here it comes—

OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT! OINTMENT!

Nurse! Help! Get that quack McGillicuddy on the telephone-voice-device and tell him I'm having a severe attack of "the Ointments"! No, I'm not funning with you! I have "the Ointments"! Didn't McGillicuddy tell you about the "Ointments"? I just said ointment 27 times without stopping! Oh, this is a night-mare! I thought you knew...

Wait a minute. I didn't say "ointment" just then. Well, I did, but what I mean is, I didn't say it involuntarily. Perhaps I caught the 24-hour "Ointments."

Thank goodness. I thought I was a goner for sure.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Damn Europeans, I hate 'em all, including the Flemish! Especially the Flemish! They have ridiculous hair-cuts, and they MARMOSET! MARMOSET! MARMOSET! MARMOSET! MARMOSET!

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