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Tips For Hotel Etiquette

Staying in a hotel can be a fun and luxurious experience, but it requires consideration of the guests around you. The Onion presents its guide to hotel etiquette:

Report: Look How Big Player Is Next To Sideline Reporter

GREEN BAY, WI—Marveling at the pronounced disparity in size during the postgame interview, sources confirmed Sunday that, Jesus Christ, just look at how big Houston Texans nose tackle Vince Wilfork is next to the CBS sideline reporter.

John Kerry Throws Vine Over Pit Of Quicksand To Save Child Companion

PANGSAU, MYANMAR—Thinking quickly to thwart disaster as he ventured deep into the Myanmar rainforest to meet with State Councilor Aung San Suu Kyi, Secretary of State John Kerry threw a vine over a pit of quicksand to save the life of his 12-year-old Moroccan companion, Drumstick, sources confirmed Monday.

Report: This Movie Old Enough That They Might Have Actually Hurt Dog

GARDNER, MA—Realizing the movie was probably made years before any sort of mandatory industry oversight, nervous viewers watching a Turner Classic Movies airing of ‘Home On The Range’ Sunday night told reporters that the classic western was old enough that the filmmakers might have actually hurt the dog that starred in the motion picture.

Best Sports Video Games Of All Time

With titles such as ‘FIFA 17’ and ’NBA 2K17’ expected to be popular gifts this holiday season, Onion Sports looks back on some of the best sports video games of all time.

Can Trump Follow Through On His Campaign Promises?

President-elect Donald Trump made a variety of lofty promises during his campaign as part of a pledge to “make America great again.” The Onion looks at several of these promises and evaluates whether Trump will be willing or able to follow through on them.
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I Am A Mummy

In 1968, anticipating my imminent demise and wishing to go to the grave looking sharp, I took the precaution of having myself mummified. My major organs were carefully removed by eminent Egyptian physicians and stored in special alabaster jars. (Except for my spleen, whose jar was knocked over and subsequently consumed by field-mice, and my brain, which I still need.)

The only problem is, I have lived far longer than anticipated, and have, as a result, had to endure years of weekly embalming sessions just to keep up the façade. I am normally very co-operative with the embalmers, except when they attempt to remove my brains through my nostrils with an elongated hook. But, with my hollow chest cavity replenished weekly with preserving spices and emolients, and my withered skin slathered with a rare, fragrant oil from the Orient, I am secure in the knowledge that the embalmers generally know what they are doing, and I try not to get in their way.

My mausoleum, too, is being prepared for my expiration. Artisans are at work painstakingly hand-carving a sarcophagus of solid gold, and labor daily on elaborate wall frescoes depicting key events in my life. That way, I may spend an eternity blissfully reliving such glorious times as when The Onion reached a land-mark 50,000 circulation and when I stabbed Brickton Atlas-Trumpet editor P. Oliver Gummidge 17 times with an awl. Crate-loads of solid-gold tubes and catheters, cod-liver oil, and a platinum-coated iron lung have been placed in my burial-chamber as well.

There is, however, a slight wrinkle in the funeral plans. When I pass on, naturally, a few dozen of my loyal servants will be buried alive with me so that they may serve me in the after-life. But there is no way that I will permit that hideous metallic ro-bot nurse of mine to eternally insert thermometers up my rectum! I will simply have to find another nurse. But whom? Certainly not my previous one, the foul traitoress who up and left me without notice!

Now I live in cold fear, not of my actual demise, but that I shall die, and that they will ship that evil mechanical ro-bot down to my burial chamber to forever stare at me with its menacing red eyes!

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