Drop Dead, Every Last One of You!

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How Campaigns Spend Their Money

The 2016 election cycle is shaping up to be the most expensive in American history, with most presidential candidates already having raised tens of millions of dollars for their respective campaigns. Here is a breakdown of just how that money is spent:

Fan Can’t Believe He Left 11 Seconds Into Ronda Rousey Fight

RIO DE JANEIRO—Kicking himself for not staying all the way until the end of the fight and subsequently missing its thrilling finish, local mixed martial arts fan Marcos Acosta expressed both disappointment and regret Tuesday for leaving UFC 190’s main event between Ronda Rousey and Bethe Correia after 11 seconds.
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Just Like Everything Else!: Fox 8 p.m. EDT/7 p.m. ABC Pete's wife is still on him about building that darn shed, these kids are going to be the death of Sheila and Dave, and the hot next-door neighbor is up in EVERYBODY'S business! Sunday nights on ABC couldn't be any more familiar!

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  • How Theaters Are Trying To Win Back Moviegoers

    The number of Americans who went to the movies hit a 20-year low in 2014, leaving theaters scrambling to find ways to incentivize the public to see new releases on the big screen rather than watch films at home or on the internet. Here are some methods theaters are using to win back audiences and increase box office sales:

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Drop Dead, Every Last One of You!

I've been a newspaperman all my life. Printer's ink flows through my veins! As my nurse reads me this commemorative "best of" issue of the great Onion news gazette, tears gush from my eyes. Do you realize that you hold in your hands some of the finest journalism ever created? You do not deserve such fine journalism. I wouldn't even pay you to urinate on me.

How well I remember my very first "scoop." It was back in '04. The Fliegel Shirtwaist Factory was ablaze! While other reporters gathered around the sight of the conflagration, I noticed that Old Man Fliegel was nowhere to be found. My curiosity piqued, I hailed a cab and drove to his vast country estate. Forcing myself in with a barrage of fisticuffs, I discovered Old Man Fliegel ensconced in his study, lit up like a Christmas tree. With a minimum of persuasion, the depraved old weakling admitted that he had the factory set ablaze so he could collect a handsome insurance windfall. I left his estate appalled, cynical and $650,000 richer.

As I have said, the issue before you represents a sampling of the finest Onion reporting conceivable. Some of these articles date back to the old Mercantile Onion, founded by my father, Herman Ulysses Zweibel. Those were the heady pioneer days! For its first 20 years, The Mercantile Onion was printed on buffalo skins. Father could kill 20 Mormons in one blow, and still have enough breath to draw his cider jug to his lips! Would that such men still walked the earth!

The Onion would not have survived had it not been for the tenacious fighting spirit of the Zweibels. We would not have weathered the Big Scare of 1911, or vanquished our despised arch-rival, The Brickton Atlas-Trumpet. Curse the memory of that lowly fish-wrapper! I relished heaving that cinderblock against the skull of its editor, P. Oliver Gummidge! Yes, I killed him. What are you going to do, arrest me? It was 94 years ago! What defense lawyer worth his salt wouldn't rush to the side of T. Herman Zweibel? I'm as rich as Midas! No jail can hold me! Go ahead, take your best shot! I'm waiting! Do your worst!