adBlockCheck

Exiled!

Top Headlines

Recent News

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.
End Of Section
  • More News
Up Next

Exiled!

Cast into the wilderness for nearly a month now, destitute, hungry and ragged, a man without a home or a name. Hated! Despised! Rejected! Exiled!

Even my faithful man-servant Standish, who has been my sole companion and wheel-chair-puller during my arduous exodus, is not above forsaking his wretched master. Once, as we huddled around the camp-fire, assessing our meagre rations, Standish broke down and, in a manner quite unlike him, tearfully admitted that, on the day previous, he imagined me to be a chicken, albeit an old and desiccated chicken, and attempted to slaughter me with a hatchet as I slept. But a sudden wave of conscience over-took him, and he let the hatchet drop. I was shocked by Standish's display of emotion but decided to show him mercy. "You have been through hell and back, as have I," I said. "I will let you off easy with a mere 7 percent reduction in your wages. But don't think I shall ever forget your thoughts of betrayal, you murderous turn-coat!"

We sojourned for days across the Great Eastern Range, buzzards flying over-head. Almost out of the staples given to us by the Boy-Scouts, we believed our-selves finally done for. Finding our-selves near the top of a ridge, I commanded Standish to hollow out my grave in the hard dirt, after which he could crawl some-where into the brush and expire quietly. But before I could finish, Standish leapt up and gesticulated wildly at an area beyond the ridge. "A town, sir, a town!" he exclaimed.

"A fat lot of good that does us," I said. "That jerk-water burg is probably oozing with constables, ready to clap us into irons on sight."

"It is better than death, sir," Standish said. "And it seems to feature considerable amenities. From here I can spot a motor-court and a used-car proprietor-ship. And look—a Burger-King franchise!"

Burger-King? Where had I heard this name before? Then I remembered: He is the famed plenipotentiary of meat, much beloved across the Republic. I ordered Standish to fetch me the amplified-sight glasses so that I could get a better look at this town. Sure enough, the Burger-King's embassy lay right in the town thorough-fare, beckoning all with its enormous, shiny, revolving coat-of-arms.

It took hours, but we finally made our way to the center of the town. We entered the Burger-King embassy, and I threw my-self at the feet of the courtiers and diplomats in-side, begging for political asylum and a possible audience with the great and benevolent Burger-King.

Sign up For The Onion's Newsletter

Give your spam filter something to do.

X Close