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Dropping A Hint

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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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Dropping A Hint

My man-servant Standish informed me that this upcoming Yule-tide will be the final one of the years that begin with 19. This fact got me to thinking and, although I certainly would hate to impose on any-one, it would sure be nice if I could receive the gift of a nice, new woolen shawl for Christ-mas.

I do have a shawl right now, but it is old and worn, and it has grown rather, shall I say, wretched. I will not go into gory detail, but suffice it to say, it bears at least three successive layers of congealed sputum and leprous skin flakes.

I have saved the guess-work for any potential gift-giver by picking out the shawl I would like. The F.J. Abernathy Dry-Goods Catalogue has a very nice chartreuse-colored one with a pretty diamond-knit design and fringe border for $1.20. It is featured on page 211 of the catalogue, among other shawl models of varying price. If I got one of those instead, that would be fine, too.

This is not the type of present I would pitch into a closet and never lay eyes on again, like those hundreds of mechanical nightingales, jewel-encrusted sceptres and chests of doubloons I've received for count-less Christ-mases past. It is true, the old adage which says that the finer things in life are invariably the simplest. Yet no-one ever thinks to give me a shawl, not even my near-destitute servants, who often spend as much as half their yearly wages to purchase for me some gaudy bauble that, more often than not, goes into the refuse heap.

A new shawl would be quite a boon for me. I think I would wear it in bed mostly, about my shoulders, and secure it at my bosom with a safety-pin. I could also wear it when Standish wheels me about the mansion in my wheel-chair. Or when Nurse Pin-head spoons me my gruel every evening. Or when I look out the window of my bed-chamber for hours on end.

Should I receive a shawl this Christ-mas, I promise I will write the benefactor a very cordial letter of thanks and well-wishes. Said benefactor will also be invited to my estate for a festive Christ-mas dinner. Standish will let you in through the back-door, and you will eat your meal in the servants' dining-room. Stew will be served.

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